British Sea Power - Interview - Winter 2007
By: Dan Monsell
Something that we didn't expect when we called British Sea Power front man Scott Wilkinson (or Yan as he's known to most) for a bit of chat, is that we'd catch him in the middle of working on a horror-comedy movie in his make shift editing suite-cum-living room situated in his house in Brighton. It seems Yan has many strings to his bow.
"Part of the video for (new single) 'Chasing Flags' is also from my footage" he proudly informs me, "we did it all in between recording sessions when we were in Cornwall".
The recent Cornish visit of which Wilkinson speaks was only one of the places the band took in during the recent recording of the triumphant new album, Do You Like Rock Music?. The locations chosen for the record's creation consisted of classically bizarre, back-to-nature sites you'd usually associate with the band - ranging from Czech forestry and a former fort on a cliff on the Cornish coast, to the predictably interesting and artistic cities of Montreal and their hometown of Brighton.
In short, album number three is fantastic. It's more daring and experimental, similar to the band's debut, whilst still capturing some of the grand euphoric pop sentiments of album two, Open Season. In fact, like any good third album should, it seems to equal the sum of the previous albums and take big progressive forward-steps.
Yan happily tells me that the band put in immense efforts to making the record as good as it could possibly be. For them, they felt like that this album should be made "as if it could be their very last". When the original plan - "go to Montreal, adopt a no messing approach, play loud and all in one room" - didn't pay off, they simply decided to have a few more goes. The band went on to "tweak sounds" in Brighton, re-record in Cornwall and finish up mixing it all down in a forest in the wilderness of the Czech Republic.
I ask Yan whether the record was as liberating this time around as you might expect. After all not many bands in this day and age get to even make a third album, with a bit more funding than usual, and a loyal fanbase under wraps. He responds incredibly positively.
"This is definitely the one I've been most proud of. We could experiment with recording techniques, inventing a whole bunch of studio noises, like weird soundscapes. The other records we've made I've always had some problems with, but not this one."
The re-recording in Cornwall seem to give the band what they wanted, and "being in amazing places out in the middle of nowhere did seem to provide us with great experiences that we could then put into the recording process." Mixing in the mystical, totally barren forest in the Czech republic, "just seemed like a reward more than anything else for all the time we'd spent on it."
The conversation gets a little heavy and serious for a second as I quiz chief wordsmith Wilkinson about some of the lyrical content of the album. Much has already been made of this record's intent to tackle the gloom and doom ridden nature of the current world, by confronting these problems with optimism, and a joyous big sound on this record, rather than mope themselves into useless apathy. Jan is quick to support this sentiment;
"It's clear that when you open any newspaper there's a lot of pretty apocalyptic stuff, it's pretty obvious that there's a lot to be pretty worried about." He sums the record up as being one of "apocalyptic optimism".
I can't hide my delight at that little sound-bite, and we both agree that such a phrase would look good highlighted in the middle of any article in big letters. Let's try it...
"The record is one of apocalyptic optimism..."
- Yan, British Sea Power
Beautiful.
The band really seems in a good, optimistic and happy place at the moment (enough that they can do the odd interview when they feel like it, whilst making horror comedies in their downtime). Yan enthuses that a recent 'secret' gig in south London (at New Cross' Amersham Arms) "was one of the best for a while - in fact, they've all been really good recently."
Despite the band seemingly getting bigger and better each day, I quiz Yan about how the band still seems to have constant desire to play 'secret" gigs in places like beach coves, the highest inn in Britain, and all manner of village halls. Is getting a bit commercially 'big' perhaps in a bit of a conflict with the happiness they have with a more underground kind of fame, harking back to their 'club sea power' days? Yan's keen to challenge this.
"It'd be a misconception if you thought that we'd want to be just some British indie band. We're not opposed to being successful, essentially, it'd be nice to have a few more pounds in our pockets".
He adds, "Some of the most lovely things are those that you just need to look a bit harder to see, like the highest inn in Britain with those great Yorkshire fires they had there, or the fact that we used to be quite obsessed with finding things from the past and trying to make them useful. Gigs in different places like that are mostly just done because we like the different character of places. We don't really think about why, but I guess it's just our way of being creative and doing things as we see them. It makes things interesting."
What if someone offered him a sold-out stadium tour?
'I'd probably jump at the chance. At least then they'd have enough money to do something interesting with those shows. But it hasn't happened in six years, so I don't see why it would."
Although it'd be right to admire his modesty, I'm not so sure if he's so right about that one. Time will surely tell...
Wilkinson is not so modest however, when it comes to the question of their ever-loyal fan base. When I ask him why he thinks the bands fans are so unbelievably dedicated, he tells me pretty straight up;
"There just aren't really that many bands with as much depth out there as us, that kind of harbours a long term-interest.'
We're inclined to agree. Their famous live shows are a result of everyone really being there for one reason, "to have a good time". I challenge the uniform nature of the crowd, mentioning that I saw them at a festival once when their "meaningful chaos" seemed to have been a bit misinterpreted by a portion of a significant laddy, pissed-up section of the crowd. The band noticeably retreated into themselves a bit. Yan agrees, admitting it can happen every now and then, but insists that now you just do what you can to stop them ruining it for everyone else.
"In the old days you'd probably hit troublemakers with a branch, or maybe a peregrine falcon. Otherwise maybe just a pair of socks."
Wilkinson is full of interesting and intelligent comment. He also finds time for us to chat about the importance of history to the band. When I ask him when in the past he'd live, he went pretty extreme and chose medieval, possibly even Neolithic times. With regards to current listening, he explains he likes "people who seem like they really come from a certain place, currently, Hawk and a hacksaw or silver Mt. Zion". However, enough's enough, and we decide to let the voice of the BSP get back to making his horror comedy, despite the fact it feels like we could chat for days. One thing's for sure, this is a band that really has something interesting and important to say. They move to their own wonderful and creative beat, and have a fantastic new album under their belt to boot. Most of 2007's albums haven't actually come from Britain, but this one gives us a great deal of hope for 2008.
Artists in this article: British Sea Power