UNKLE’s
James Lavelle has been at cutting edge of dance music for over a decade.
Magazine’s Rob Stares waxed lyrical with the electronic-maverick
before his set at Nottingham’s Rock City:
Tonight
is one of the first nights that show the noticeable shift in the pattern
of the seasons, as the cold winter air blows through the streets.
It all feels a million
miles away from the vast expanse of the Joshua Tree desert, situated
outside of Los Angeles, California where the seeds of UNKLE’s
third studio album were sewn. As the public file past the entrance to
Nottingham’s Rock City, occasionally one steps out of the twilight
crowd and adjust their eyes to see who is playing.
Occasionally, one
of these bright-eyed individuals is transformed. More than one fully-grown
male was reduced to an infantile state as they cling to their peers
and practically beg for entrance to the gig. There is a near-comparison
to the startling video for UNKLE’s very own ‘Eye For An
Eye’, where seemingly innocent human-like figures are destroyed
by alien beings after being drawn to a giant form of their own self.
It’s this
sort of sub-conscious psychological domination that has seen James Lavelle,
the man behind UNKLE, rise from the cool of London’s club scene
to an undisputed titan of the dance arena. A brief history of the Oxford-born
musician reads like this. In 1992, he formed the Mo’ Wax label
that gave early releases to artists like DJ Shadow, Air and Blackalicious.
He teamed up with DJ Shadow for UNKLE’s debut release, 1998’s
Psyence Fiction on Mo’ Wax. Five years later, and album two followed
in the shape of Never, Never, Land, before this years’ third LP,
entitled War Stories arrived. Collaborations have been an integral part
of the UNKLE makeup so far, with artists ranging from Radiohead’s
Thom Yorke, the Beastie Boys’ Mike D and Josh Homme of Queens
of The Stone Age appearing.
If the name still
doesn’t ring any bells, there is a good chance you would’ve
heard a number of recent tracks on the BBC. ‘Chemistry’
features on the advert for BBC One’s new series of Spooks, and
instrumental versions of other highlights from War Stories regularly
appear on the new series of Top Gear.
Meeting up with
Lavelle before the start of the briefest of UK tours in Nottingham (Glasgow,
Manchester and London’s Roundhouse are the only other destinations),
it is firstly noticeable how tired he is. After jetting back from a
DJ set in China only 24 hours previous, he’s slightly bleary eyed
as he settles down on the back of the tour bus. With under an hour before
the show starts, it feels slightly unnerving that he’s not concerned
about it.
He yawns a few times
during our chat through necessity rather than ignorance, but with only
the sound of a paused Xbox 360 whirring in the corner and the arid veil
of second-hand smoke in the room, it’s not exactly an atmosphere
of urgency; more lethargic nervous tension.
After creating two albums that didn’t necessarily lean toward
live production, with Psyence Fiction focussed on hip-hop, and Never,
Never, Land breaching the electronic threshold, War Stories breaks into
the rock genre, and according to Lavelle, it is something that is here
for a while at least:
“I’ve really enjoyed it. It’s all pretty unique really,
but it’s different from in the past where I’ve done DJ orientated
sets whether it being related to UNKLE or not, or just playing other
people’s records, so when it comes to UNKLE, I wouldn’t
want to go back, from doing it as a live band,” he says, with
solid conviction.
The live band itself
is a steadily rotating hive of activity. When the show starts this evening,
between the stunning light show and giant video screen backdrop, Lavelle
and other mainstay Richard File are the visual kingpins as guest vocals
and musicians revolve around them like they’re on a micro solar
system. It’s an enthralling sight, as well as sound, as they not
only shadow Queens of The Stone Age musically, but in sheer volume too.
The other new addition
is seeing Lavelle taking on vocal duties on a number of tracks both
on record and on stage, which has been a big step: “It’s
totally different with singing songs, whereas usually you’re playing
other peoples’ records. It’s a totally different buzz. They
balance each other in different ways, so you get different experiences
from them, but I’ve enjoyed it.”
“I didn’t
have any expectations to start with, I didn’t know what to expect,
so in that way it’s gone beyond the album.” He stares into
the distance briefly, with a gaze that looks toward the future.
It’s also
a slight surprise to find that he had issues of self-confidence when
it came to stepping up to the microphone previously, and it wasn’t
until the decision was made to work with Masters of Reality member and
‘desert rock’ super-producer Chriss Goss, that this original
barricade was deconstructed:
“I guess when
you reach a certain point you realise that you can put up a lot of walls
and guards to things that you then realise how you shouldn’t really
worry so much,” says Lavelle. “In that way it was really
good to work with Chriss because (pauses) he made everything feel just
a lot easier. He was very encouraging in that way.”
“In retrospect
now I realise how important that was to be able to move forward and
to be able to take from what we’ve learned from all those experiences
now and put it into a more focused way into the next record. I think
he’s an important factor in (pauses) being able to change, I think.”
His hands twitch and gesture slightly as he explains the reasons, with
his immaculately painted black fingernails absorbing the light.
Considering Lavelle
is someone seen as a musical leader in some parts, it’s humbling
to hear that even people who appear to be ‘ultra cool’ are
humans too. He also finds suggestions from previous articles that he
is arrogant as wide of the mark: “I think being shy and not wanting
to talk about certain subjects isn’t arrogant, I just tend to
want to avoid certain conversations,” he states, in a naturally
defensive tone.
He’s got every
right to be defensive too. His falling out with DJ Shadow during the
production for their second album saw Shadow depart and go off on his
own steam, whilst Lavelle has since had troubles with major record labels
that helped put the final nail in Mo’ Wax. Add in criticisms from
over-zealous fans about the musical direction of UNKLE, and there’s
a cocktail difficult for most to handle.
A chance to record
the new album in the desert provided a great chance to unwind, have
some space, breathe and re-focus attention, as Lavelle mentions during
the course of the interview, but it didn’t stop him from sometimes
giving into temptation and reading reviews of UNKLE in the press after
War Stories’ release in July:
“I’ve
read a few, but I find it very hit and miss, so I tend to not. I’d
be a liar if I said that I read ones that I knew were really good reviews.
I find them up and down with UNKLE, and I just have to ride it through.
You have the occasional night where you start trawling through the net
when you’re bored and I just get frustrated and turn it off usually.
I take the negative, that’s what seems to be the problem really.”
A rueful smile rolls
into his face for a matter of seconds. The negativity does also stem
from a moment in his life that occurred before the recordings of War
Stories, where he describes himself as being burned out. Past relationships
and other personal issues had come to the fore, meaning that Lavelle
needed to take five:
“Right now
I’m still dealing with a lot of stuff from the past, but it’s
definitely more manageable now, just a lot of changes in a lot of relationships
and a lot of stuff that’s had to be dealt with head on. I think
it reached a point where I had to address where I was at in my life.
I suppose it’s what a lot of people go through at some point or
another in their life,” he says philosophically, whilst keeping
his cards close to his chest.
It’s not because
he doesn’t enjoy interviews either. He openly admits and enthuses
about interviews, and how he enjoys good journalism, but is then quick
to note how this is often found outside of the UK. A visible frustration
is stressed in every intonation of what he then says:
“Most people
want to talk about business and failure here [in the UK] rather than
the music, and I find that very frustrating. Most of the interviews
I read about don’t focus on what was made musically on the record,
they talk about the past, they talk about Mo-Wax, they talk about DJ
Shadow, they talk about Psyence Fiction or they talk about (pauses)
financial things or what the state of the record industry is in.”
He continues: “It’s
like the real matter in hand is about what you have done musically,
and if that’s something you like or not. That is essentially what
it’s about and people don’t really do that when it comes
to UNKLE in my opinion, here. Maybe I can seem arrogant with English
journalists because again I just find a lot of the time a lot of the
interviews miss the point.”
The door suddenly
splinters open, sounding like cardboard on dried Sellotape. They’ve
got twenty minutes until they’re on stage, and Lavelle needs to
get ready. It’s an impossibility to wait any longer, and there
is a slightly stunned undertone to his voice when he realises its a
good cue to say our goodbyes.
As timing would
have it, his final words leave a level of hypocrisy hanging over this
article, with no chance to alter it. In some ways, it’s fitting.
James Lavelle has always had a level of mystery surrounding him, but
you can’t begrudge a man from keeping his private life separate
from his work.
Spending a short
amount of time with Lavelle shows that he is a man that has evidently
been burned in the past by the music industry and the media mouthpiece.
He picks his words carefully when describing somebody (whether this
is down to his tiredness or his reservations of British journalism is
unclear), and seems to be unsettled by the tougher moments in recent
years.
On previous albums,
UNKLE have sounded deeply psychological, spiritual, ethereal; creating
synapses through musical bombasts that seem detached from reality and
create an other worldly presence. With War Stories, he’s succeeded
in creating a body of work that is organic, and for the first time,
mortal.
He’s almost
landed back at square one again, with a new label, and a new act in
the form of the live band. Just before he leaves, he mentions that the
collaborative elements of former releases may have to be re-thought,
which would notion toward Lavelle taking a leading role on vocal duties.
It’s a statement
of quiet confidence from Lavelle that speaks volumes, as he seems to
be re-building his world from the ground up once again with renewed
purpose. The well-versed bridges that have been burned have given him
a chance to take stock and re-generate.
It also
suggests that he believes in his abilities to a level not seen before
by himself musically, which is a startling and thrilling prospect. With
James Lavelle conquering his wrangles with self-confidence, you have
to feel incredibly optimistic for his, and UNKLE’s, future.
Rob Stares
edits Bandige.com
