The Troubadour of the Western World

Rock Sound, February, 1995
By Yves Bongarçon
Submitted by Ananula
Translated by me

He is the only new artist to have been really acclaimed this year and especially almost unanimously by the public and critics. Jeff Buckley began his European tour in Dublin, Ireland this mid-January. The opportunity to see firsthand, on site and on stage, the strong impression left by the album "Grace" this summer. A moving report between the scent of beer, impressions of Ireland and the revelation of an immense talent. All just before the French performances of the artist in February.

Baile Atha Cliah

Dublin, the Cité Du Gué Aux Claies, unrolls its British geometry through the taxi window. Saturday, January 14th, half past four, it's dark and raining. As often in Dublin. No problem. It's just as if a few green Victorian doors, yellow or red come to cheer up this particular atmosphere that, elsewhere than here, would automatically be called cockroach. But by making a detour through literature, from Joyce to Henrich Böll through Anthony Burgess, we see that from generation to generation, the city retains its mysteries, its appeal, its charisma itself and acts instantaneously on the mood of the traveler or the native. Those who attended a rugby match in the pouring rain in the stands of Landsdowne Road know what it is about. Of love, of passion, of warmth, of the spark that only provides the well-being of a rare moment. From an Irish moment. Yet, difficult to ignore the misery, there, next door. Kids with snotty noses begging on the bridges over the Liffey, the Tinkers from the north-west, confiscated in utter destitution and whose wives sell flowers on the sly in old children's carriages in front of the General Post Office on O'Connell Street. The old ones too, dry as branches, with admirable dignity, cased in tweed, dark cravat on checked shirts with moiré necks of grime. These old men, who sit under the porch of some Betting Office, spend their days reading and rereading the "Turf" pages of the Irish Independant always dreaming of the ideal nag. Black Beauty or something like that...When the universe of Delly unceremoniously telescopes that of John Ford, sorry, Sean Aloysius O'Finney. So, it seems that since Liam O'Flaherty or Sean O'Casey, things and time are frozen. That Ireland will be Ireland forever. Red fire. On the palisade of a construction site, some colorful posters, half-glued flapping in the wind, Foreigner and Doobie Bros at the Point Depot, no thanks; Ian Dury & The Blockheads at Olympia, must see; Richard Thompson also at Olympia, yes, surely. And then the new Irish attraction, the group everyone is talking about, Pet Lamb, both protected and direct competitor of Therapy? No doubt soon on our decks...The taxi driver inquires about the reason for our presence in Ireland: "Jeff Buckley?", he does not know, but in a surge of kindness and sincerity, assures us that "he must be very good." Normal, according to him, since we have come to Dublin to see him...It's called hospitality and, after the Stout, it's Dublin's other specialty. And it starts as soon as you have your ass on the moleskin of a taxi seat. In short, not like in Paris.

Take That

At the Westbury Hotel on Grafton Street, just steps from the famous Trinity College, the atmosphere is buzzing with excitement: five hundred girls have taken over the street in front of the hotel, protected by a cordon of police since they learned that the four twinks from Take That, a kind of British New Kids On The Block, have elected residence there. Whenever someone appears at a window, hysterical cries fill the street. Exit the Dublin immemorial, that of Parnell and that of Easter 1916, that of Leopold Bloom and Swift, poor us! The record company had warned: no interview with Jeff Buckley, no pictures, the man is tired, he is coming out of an exhausting American tour. Perhaps there will be a quick meeting after the show in the middle of the night and a few snapshots at the beginning of the show. Procrastination. Wait and see. A few hours to spare while waiting for the scheduled concert in Tivoli around midnight. Quick, go out on the street. And first buy the press, including Hot Press, excellent city magazine that skillfully combines music, politics and society with great writing quality. As many dailies as the Irish Independant and the Irish Times do not care about rock and thus Jeff's concert, so much Hot Press is the event of the week, photos in support (on the sidelines of a long paper on Pet Lamb!) Hot Press will be the companion of the weekend even if Time Out, the London newspaper, draws a little more attractive with a beautiful photo of Adjani on the cover with this title "The ice queen finally melts". Obsession. A detour by HMV on Grafton and Virgin on the docks to realize that the two stores are broadcasting at the same time "Grace", the album of Jeff and announce with much support of PLV the evening concert. Good augury. Back to the hotel after a beer at O'Donoghue's and impromptu meeting on the steps with the three Human Leagues visibly in full promo for "shamrock" off their new album "Octopus". Not heard it yet. Too bad, we could have talked five minutes and had a drink. In memory of "The Lebanon", nothing else.

The Tivoli

The Tivoli, 135 Frances Street, five minutes drive from the city center is a funny place. First, you do not access this old theater and cinema by the main entrance (typically Irish!) but by a stealth entrance on an adjacent street, two hundred yards away. A dark and rather dirty porch, a long and tortuous open-air trip between walls covered with posters of concerts which seems to take pride in the place and finally the right entry. Admittance. The ticket is reasonably priced, £ 7.50. A competent and energetic girl scrupulously verifies the accreditations, escorted by a bouncer, fat and bearded, sort of a cross between Carlos and Philippe Seguin to locate. Which does not make you want to bring him back anyway. The room, finally. Crowded is a weak word. How many people have piled in here tonight? Hard to say. Entering this vast shed converted into a forum, a beer in hand, quickly, is impossible. The audience, half female, is quiet and in a good mood, there to spend an evening with friends rather than emptying some cans. Students for the most part, with an average age of around twenty-five. T-shirts and jeans de rigueur, little or no leather. Jeff Buckley has already sorted out his Irish fans, it's clear. 11:30, the first part accesses the scene, it is provided by The Mary Janes, a local trio of bass, electric guitar and a dreadlocked leader perched on a bar stool with an acoustic guitar. The set is good and organized, strangely layered, songs quite relevant, skillfully combining neo-folk fighting and noisy temptation. They are on the track for an album (Setanta?), Which on the strength of their performance tonight is well deserved. The reception that the public offers them is in any case extremely warm.

State Of Grace

We do not really know what it's all about. The magic of a moment, a stylistic brilliance, a second of weightlessness or eternity. Or, finally, just an attitude. Simple, determined. Like the unique way that Jeff Buckley casually enters the stage. White shirt with long sleeves, bright green, short sleeved shirt, scrupulously crumpled, ad-hoc jeans, chain and biker wallet, ivory Telecaster worn very low, messy hair, an outfit seen thousands of times in the rock scene but which, on Buckley, adds to the authenticity of the character of the artist. This is probably what is called natural elegance or, to borrow from Buckley himself, grace. He appeared on the platform with guitar, cables, beer, the room still lit, Buckley immediately shows he's far from artificial. Following his band, he sets his Marshall amp, tunes his Tele, tests his pedals and returns. The surprised public did not immediately notice but give him a standing ovation as soon as they realize that the guy over there is not a roadie like the others. A rudimentary approach to the public that appears spontaneous but shows Buckley has good knowledge of the stage and almost controls his own character, his own image. Impressive.

Instant Karma

He approaches the microphone, makes a few grimaces and in response to a girl who shot out a warm "We love you Jeff!", He answers in a deep, sensual, broken voice, able to capsize the heart of any horde of Huns, "Thank you, I love you too". That's it! Buckley has won the game before it even started. A tour de force. A natural charisma that will allow him to start his concert with "Dream Brother", an almost intimate title and continue with "So Real" his radio hit of the moment. Almost chained entirely to his art without a word, without a look. For Buckley, that's what it's about, art, artistic creation, performance in the 'plastic arts' sense of the term. Of a Herculean combat that the artist delivers to the material, body-to-body, with bare hands. In the space of ten minutes, the old Dublin theater is thus transformed into an arena where the life of a man will play out, in the Brechtian sense of the term. "Last Goodbye" and his slide guitar, bass and oriental effects, diabolical zeppelinizims, and above all the charming voice, a muscular version of "What Will You Say", and Jeff takes to the microphone to finally address the audience. To do what? Present and showcase his musicians, Mick Grondahl (bass), Michael Tighe (guitar), and Matt Johnson (drums)! Smart, Buckley, over-mediated prodigal son, hides behind the group. Nobody is fooled but it works, we want to believe in the humility of the man. A likeability that this one will hurry to exploit while gently playing. The very grunge "Eternal Life" followed, as to definitively thwart any attempt at classification, the very delicate "Lilac Wine", "Listen to me / I can not see clearly..." is almost a profession of faith.

Vampire

From the first chords of "Grace"-title song-the audience roars with pleasure, shows its excitement but also, one feels it releases the tension accumulated during the first part of the show. Because if Jeff Buckley gives himself without reserve to his audience, going so far as to put into play and sometimes in danger his status as artist, abandoning all modesty, he also asks a lot to the people who listen to him, a lot of focus and their attention, monopolizing for their exclusive benefit their emotional state. This guy is an emotional vampire and sucks the blood, the energy of every human being fallen under his spell. In this context, the familiarity that is already in a song like "Grace" is a happy fall in pressure that has become for many (deliciously?) unbearable. And it is not "Lover, You Should Have Come Over" with its fits of fever and moments of appeasement is a perfect example the sexual intensity of this New York musician. End of the show. A panting audience takes a few seconds to react to the disappearance of the young Adonis. Especially since Jeff returns almost immediately on stage to perform alone with the Tele, his magnificent cover of "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen. "I've seen your flag on a marble arch/Love is not a victory march...", every word is weighed, felt, lived with a prodigious sense of dramaturgy and surrender. Upsetting. A version so intense, so personal, so haunted that it definitely puts the public on their knees before he superbly jumps into the crowd.

Fucking Good Concert

 Fionna, Twenty-three-year-old biology student, her eyes on the wave in the direction of the stage, lost in the middle of the empty room, triturated her empty Holstein Pils box. She has just received the Buckley concert right in her face. She stammers "He is so...He is so...generous, so intense! I discovered him just a week ago, a friend lent me his record, I cracked. He is even better in concert...". Anne-Marie,  twenty-one, a fan of Therapy? she wears a beautiful T-shirt but is disappointed: "He's doing too much on the cursed poet side, we do not believe it. I find that he can not manage his image of the tortured romantic along with the energetic rocker. He's trying to play both games, it's risky." Eamon, twenty-seven years old, architect student, a beautiful red beard carefully cut is downright charming, he explains: "Given his age, Buckley is astonishingly mature, juggling his image, his music, and the emotions he inspires as an artist already at the top of his game. It's magic. We had been waiting for someone like him for a long time. He is very involved, how far can he go? That is the question. To give so much, we'll ask him more next time, that's for sure." The analysis is relevant, the concept of risk taking seems not to have escaped the public. Janine, Liz and Moira, twenty-eight, twenty-four and thirty years old respectively, bank employees on a night-time outing, have failed by a little luck, to drink a beer. Jeff Buckley left them mixed impressions: "He's handsome, very natural but his songs get boring after a while, he puts too much stuff inside. We'd rather it be simpler sometimes. The last one (Lenny Cohen's cover) was superb." The Tivoli finishes emptying discovering a floor littered with hundreds of crumbled plastic cups and almost as many empty beer cans. Gilbert, red giant, leader of roadies, forty years old, a respectable belly, lights a Silk Cut, puts his hands on his hips, solemnly adjusts his black Metallica T-shirt before putting his gloves back on and asserts with the definite assurance that belongs only to earthy men: "Fucking good concert, huh?! This guy is really impeccable." Finally, the last bit of recognition that was missing for Jeff Buckley, that of a roadie. Three o'clock in the morning, the night is icy and wet. Dublin tries to fall asleep. The taxi driver is in great shape. He turns around, red-faced with sparkling eyes, looking at our bruised faces and asks, with a mischievous eye: "A last drink before bed?" Always the famous Irish hospitality. How to resist?

The Life Ahead

Rock Sound, September, 1994
By Yves Bongarcon
Submitted by Ana
Translated by me

Jeff Buckley arrived without warning with an admirable four-track EP, "Live at Sin-é", at the beginning of this year, and this fall he is back with his first full-length album, the highly anticipated "Grace". A fan of total commitment, a disciple of the "guts on the table" formula, a fierce supporter of music with a human face, Tim Buckley's son sets the bar very high from the start. And between pathetic candor and juvenile fury, claims to provide much more than a freeze-dried music for cathodic use: a vision of the world. As the teeth first start to chatter, a freeze-frame in Washington DC during the US tour and interview on the background.

What does being an American mean to you?

(interminable silence) Well, I think America is a reflection of the world, a pretty fair reflection. I see America as a bright, gifted child. In fact, it was more like a gifted orphan, without a very definite racial background, a half-breed of many colors in a way, a kind of biological curiosity. An orphan, with, inside it, an immense reservoir of possibilities but which it cannot really exploit because it is not completely unified. Certainly the English language is a unifying force in America like music and violence. And sex...Language, music, sex and violence are the things that bring Americans together. I have experienced them myself, I can speak about them. Of course, I didn't go to the end of each of these experiences, but I went far enough to touch the reality of them. I can say that there are amazing extremes in our society between an elegant and intense sensuality and a senseless puritanical repression. Both exist, sometimes from one house to another, sometimes from one neighborhood to another, pretending to ignore each other. You can have both sex and race mixing like nowhere else and at the same time injustice, inequity and rejection of the other like never before. And all this sometimes in the same building. I don't associate this with tribal behavior, it's different, it's typically American. That's why America is so crazy, so infuriating, it doesn't know who it is yet, it's too young.

America lacks landmarks?

Yes, in a way. Since it was born, a very short time ago, it has not stopped transforming. Like an organism if you will. And an organism needs time to know how it works, what it tolerates, what it does not tolerate, what it is able to assimilate and at what doses. America is too young to be like France. You are French in every way, in the way you eat, talk, walk, fuck and so on. An Irishman or an Italian, it's the same, they know who they are. Can you tell me what an American is? Personally, I don't know a damn thing about it. Americans don't know who they are; being American is more a state of mind. The people who are here, except for the men who were brought by force as slaves until the last century, are here by choice, of their own free will. America is not a tribal concept, it is a conscious and deliberate decision. We are in chaos here. And that's good in a way because chaos is a fabulous source of energy. But on the other hand, it can also be paralyzing because we know that anything can happen, hence the temptation to turn inward.

You were born and raised in California. Today, you are located on the Lower East Side in Manhattan. What does this choice mean? Europeans often imagine New Yorkers to be quite close to them, different in any case from other Americans, what do you think?

It's true that New Yorkers are different from other Americans, there's no doubt about it. I don't know if they are close to Europeans or to a European mindset. For me, what I call the European state of mind is linked to an emotion. To art if you prefer. Europeans as a whole have a centuries-old experience of art that allows them to approach it with a certain naturalness and in even the most banal aspects of daily life. In America, this table is a breakfast table, period. In Europe, it is more than a table, it bears the seal of the craftsman who made it, it has a style that links it to a school etc. This is what I mean by a European mindset. New York is a land of excess (laughs), it's different. There is everything and its opposite in New York. It is a place where ultra-conservatism and ultra-liberalism rub shoulders seemingly without much animosity. New York, for me, is the city where everything is possible, the city of "why not?!" You get up in the morning and say to yourself: why not go to the gym? Why not start such a religion? Why not kill this innocent old lady? Why not get married? You take a cab and you're five minutes away from a new experience. It's not healthy, it's not safe, but it's alive and that's what we demand in New York. This city is not a cradle of creativity as is often said, it is the cradle of tolerance, of acceptance. Which in a way necessarily encourages creativity. There is no question about this city. If you want to walk around with a toilet brush on your head, no one will ask you any questions. This city offers extraordinary opportunities and at the same time can create serious harm if you are not careful. Because if it does not ask questions, the medal also has a reverse side, New York ignores you until contempt. But that's part of the game. I chose New York for all this, for this freedom, for this breath of fresh air, this very stimulating "do or die" aspect. It is a unique place.

As a musician, are your goals only artistic and musical? Are you concerned or attracted by more political or social things?

No. My commitment as a musician is a human commitment, a commitment to life.  I don't feel I have the right to be a kind of conscience director, to tell people "follow me, I have the truth!" And then frankly what's the point? Today, everyone exposes their views on the world, says what they think about this or that thing, from the creamer to Jeff Buckley, I find it indecent. To mix music with this would be almost a sacrilege. This doesn't mean that I don't care and I must admit that sometimes I've even been tempted to write songs about these themes. In everyday life, it's easy to be influenced by a rape or a particular atrocity, something that's been hyped up by the media that makes you want to use the weapons at your disposal, a song, a text in this case, but I've always been able to resist. Sometimes it's not easy. How can we resist writing a song, how can we resist committing ourselves when we massacre children or kill whales? It is cruel. Then, we can engage in a crusade and shout everywhere "Stop killing whales!" and ask for coercive means to stop the massacres. And then what, man forgets and starts killing whales again! No, if you really want to change something in the world, to stop killing whales, to change a state of mind, the most emotional thing to do, the most urgent thing to do, is to change your own state of mind and try to understand how people are, how they think, how they live, how they feel things, how they cry. After that, you might be able to do something for them...and for the whales. No, I never joined a political movement, I never joined a mafia...Look at Lenny Cohen (he shows a picture), he never claimed to do or say anything. He simply states the things he knows. He is perhaps in this sense the most accomplished politician. He says nothing, he promises nothing, he shows, he is content to be each man, to put himself in the place of each man. And he makes poetry out of it...

Do you clearly identify the difference between Jeff Buckley the man and Jeff Buckley the artist?

 I think that the man has more facets than the artist who is probably more monolithic. The man is also expressed more eloquently than the artist.

Between the tutelary memory of a famous father and a very musical mother, how did your own musicality develop?

My musicality developed mainly thanks to my mother because I hardly knew my father. I was only four years old when he left. My musical background and my most vivid musical memories were provided by my mother and my stepfather. During the three or four years they were together, they had a child, my younger brother, and above all we lived in this house where there was always music, all kinds of music. I think that was key. My mother played the piano constantly and my stepfather had a solid musical culture and great taste. I remember asking a lot of questions about the music, it intrigued me. But I had to do it myself and ask questions because my mother would never have imposed theoretical lessons on me to become a musician. She did not believe in this kind of forced teaching but rather in natural interest.

Were you what we call "a natural", an instinctive musician in a way?

I don't know. Yes, probably on reflection, as I have learned and retained things in music without any effort on my part. I must have had some natural ability in this area.

What have been your main influences since the beginning in the arts and more particularly in music?

When I was a kid, the things I enjoyed most were the Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Joni Mitchell, Judy Garland. Then, growing up, pop was the thing that attracted me the most. Pistols, Smiths, Siouxsie were the tapes I always had with me. I also loved Bob Dylan, Miles Davis and the music of Bartok and Malher. Especially Malher, what a genius! I love his symphonies. Edith Piaf too, even if, I must say, I am not very familiar with her work. As far as painting and literature are concerned, I have always been fascinated by Picasso and by Federico Garcia Llorca. I also love Rogert Altman as a filmmaker and Brando for his composition in "On the Waterfront", Cocteau for his work as a filmmaker, image maker, Cocteau for his work as a filmmaker, as an image maker, Ingrid Bergman who has always moved me, especially in her "Notorious" period ("Les Enchaînés" by A. Hitchcock)...what a slap!

And her neo-realist period with Rossellini?

Um, I don't know yet, I'll have to get into it. It is a mature woman period, it is said to be totally different from the Hollywood period but perhaps even greater. You know, I still have gaps (laughs) and this kind of film is not easily seen in the United States. I like Werner Herzog a lot too, especially for "Aguirre" and "Woyzeck"...And then Woody Allen who I was about to forget and who I've loved since I was a kid. I have an unwavering affection for him.

What is the difference between poetry and song?

Contrary to what is often said, I do not think that poetry belongs to the written word (he shows a book). In my opinion, poetry is meant to be said, read aloud, declaimed almost like a classical text. The vector of poetry is the voice. Poetry is an art of ecstasy, not a literary genre. It creates and develops its own language on the ruins of common languages. Of what they are usually unable to express. Poetry is alchemy, it is a kind of philosopher's stone, creating gold from simple pebbles. Poetry manages to say the unspeakable, to catch eternity, to capture the human soul in a sentence and to expose it. Contrary to what is often thought, I believe that song has a lot to do with poetry because it is about rhythm in both. Similarly, poetry has a lot to do, in my opinion, with why music works. This is called lyricism. Look at the South African songs, what are they about? Going to church, a lost wooden spoon, what else?! From the text, words chosen at a primary level of temporal social meaning but also at a purely rhythmic level, with very learned vocal inflections, the whole emerging towards a great poetry, towards something unique, completely timeless which touches the soul. That's why I play with my voice, I try to transcend the ordinary, to add poetry. Poetry is a solitary art.

The fact that your lyrics are very cryptic is a further step towards a poetic implication of your music? Or is it a more spontaneous process?

I think all great, good poetry, at least the kind I like, comes from spontaneity. The one that lasts also comes from there. The great sonnets, the best alexandrines come from spontaneity, look at Shakespeare, he had studied, defined his structure and then he wrote on inspiration, spontaneously, leaving aside all his technical baggage if you like. And that's why his poetry has crossed the centuries. What I'm trying to do in a modest way is to shape my own poetry, to make it fit with what's around me, and at this point I'm not sure there's any major difference between a song and a poem. Simply, the fact that the emotions generated by a poem or by a text set to music are not the same, that they do not address the same part of our sensitivity, makes our appreciation more confused. I hope to deepen this duality or similarity in my next works, it is one of my ambitions.

How do you write and compose?

In fragments most of the time. I am relatively undisciplined. Suddenly, I'm eating and the inspiration comes, it's irrepressible, I'm forced to drop my meal and rush to a sheet of paper or an instrument. It can't wait. Other days, I'll feel like I'm "pregnant" with lyrics, melodies and I'll spend the day or night giving birth, literally giving birth to what's inside me.

There is a notion of pain in this...

Yes, absolutely, sometimes it is clear, smooth, effortless and at other times it is terribly painful. Sometimes annoying, often a source of great joy even when in pain. It's also sometimes just a kind of "work at home" like a kid coming home from school: tedious but necessary. Salutary at the end of the day in any case. But there is also a lot of fun, it's probably even the dominant feature...fortunately! (laughs)

How much of your creative process is real life?

 The base. That's where all my creativity comes from.

Can you tell me about the genesis of your album "Grace"?

"Eternal Life" and "Last Goodbye" are fairly old songs, "Mojo Pin" and "Grace" are a bit newer, "Dream Brother" and "So Real" were practically written for the album, as was "Lover, You Should've Come Over". But for this one, it was more like a kind of formatting because the song already existed in fragments for several years. But strangely enough, I was only able to complete the rewriting work with the pressure of the studio. The covers were chosen according to what these songs meant to me, for strictly personal reasons that I don't have to relate here...(silence) Because these songs remind me of people I have loved and lost. That said, these covers say a lot about my tastes too. "Last Goodbye" was the most difficult track to put together, a real ordeal. As for "Eternal Life", it is my favorite, I am very proud of it. It was the most pleasant to record, the one where we had the most fun. This song was like a lesson for us, it taught us a lot about ourselves, about our possibilities, about our work. It gave us faith. A true initiation. Especially since the song itself refers to an intense experience that I had and that is very close to my heart...A love story...I was twenty-one, she was thirty-seven and it didn't work. The song is a kind of flashback that stigmatizes the small facts that we don't notice at the time but that we realize afterwards lead us irreparably to the dead end or to the exit. At the end of the thing anyway. And you wonder why you didn't realize it before.

"Last Goodbye" is a very obvious soul song, "Mojo Pin" a more personal work. How did you manage to keep the album coherent between ambitious and personal things and others, let's say, intended for a wider audience?

Do you think "Last Goodbye" is a song for a wider audience? Interesting. I don't know how I did it, it wasn't conscious. I didn't ask myself the problem in terms of coherence, what I know is that my personality probably balances between different things as the record seems to show according to you. I need this duality because I am not the same guy from one day to the next, like you, like everyone else, I guess. Sometimes I'm serious, sometimes I'm lighter, you can feel it in the writing, in the interpretation. And on the other hand, I am convinced that a song exists as a song but also as an affective, emotional charge. That a song without all the emotional weight it acquires with the listeners over the years remains a dead letter, that it has no interest. From there, many songs are interesting. Not only musically but also emotionally. This may partly explain my choices.

How did you choose Andy Wallace as producer?

His manager had taken a close interest in what I was doing and had organized a meeting with me, but more than that, we realized that we were both used to doing things in the same way in different fields, that we had the same appetite for things. We met several times, and I realized that I had confidence in him, that this guy inspired me, that he had qualities. Andy was enthusiastic about the project very quickly. I think that made me feel better. On the other hand, he has a very important technical knowledge and that was necessary for me, because I scatter a lot and even more in studio than elsewhere. Andy was able to frame me, ask me things, make me work usefully. It freed my mind to focus on the songs and nothing else. I was very impressed that someone could put an idea I had in my head on tape very quickly. It's a very strange process, almost magical.

On stage, you appear sometimes very sensitive, very fragile, sometimes very aggressive and even cynical. Is this a trait of your personality or is it more of a set-up?

Hard to say, I don't know. I suppose that in everyday life I am probably, like many people, subject to various feelings, going through periods of depression, of great physical and moral fragility and at other times being full of spite and a solid dose of cynicism. Cynicism is to protect oneself I think, to prevent disappointments, so many promises are made, so few are kept that it is necessary to raise a defense system, to release decoys, to give in the artifice to avoid being fucked, to preserve its food, like the animals. On the other hand, at the same time, when you recognize that something is pure in intent, you have to let your guard down, make yourself available to people, not be so impenetrable. On stage, I don't really have a reason to hate or try to destroy anyone or anything. What I express are sensations that come in flux because of the interpretation. I try to live what I sing, to be honest with the spirit of a song. It doesn't automatically mean that I'm really fragile or full of anger, but simply that I'm in my song. I get drunk on my songs, I am literally drunk on stage, intoxicated. After a show, I assure you that I am chemically transformed.

 Seen from Europe today, one has the impression that the American youth is into a kind of "slacker" philosophy where trash-culture, cynicism, to-what-good-nism, etc. are mixed. What do you think of the phenomenon?

I'm not sure. I think that every generation has this kind of reaction, that it is not peculiar to every youth, at least in the western world, to have a kind of nihilistic philosophy of life during a period. However, I believe that the phenomenon is accentuated today because the youth are not given any reason to think otherwise. What they see on TV, in magazines, around them, only reinforces this more or less natural disgust they  already have for life. I don't know how it works in Europe, where you live, but here, the media, which has taken an inordinate place in everyone's lives, maintains a kind of permanent disgust. On TV, they only give you shit, stories of people who are in trouble and it has nothing to do with a sociological study, it's just to revel in miserable situations. Kids are the prime targets of this kind of subculture, they are constantly bombarded with it by the media. And that, inevitably develops a great apathy in them, the TV has such an anesthetic power. This is what we call "slackers", guys who don't have the strength to react anymore, who drag themselves from their TV to their fridge and from their fridge to their TV. This is dramatic.

Obviously you use your voice as an instrument in its own right, where does this desire, this need come from?

My voice is an instrument of expression just like my guitar. This is not the result of chance, I worked hard to achieve this result, to this result. I did not suddenly discover that it was something that was given to me as it was, which I could achieve without effort. It is a conscious and deliberate step. And what interests me is not the performance, it's the emotion that this voice can bring, the very sound it generates and which is necessary for my music. It's a need, you're right. I think I never imagined my own music without an optimum use of my voice.

On the cover of Alex Chilton's "Kanga-roo" on stage, your notion of groove is very close to that of a certain chaos. Can you explain to me this choice or this drift?

I'm glad you told me that, that you felt that, that desire. I think they are of the same nature, that they belong to each other, that the chaos is full of grooves (he starts tapping a tribal rhythm on the table). The beat exists, all the time, it's in nature, in the air, you don't necessarily hear it, but it's always there. When I materialize it by tapping on the table, I don't create it, I introduce myself into it, I give it a sound expression. When I stop, it's always there. You just don't hear it anymore. But it still exists, it's in the air like the gods and goddesses of Olympus. The beat is never something you create, it's something you discover, a walk on Olympus with the gods to which you invite yourself. If you're lucky, they might invite you to stay for a while, but to do that you have to be pure, you can't cheat. If you play along, you can dance with them. There are many of them, and that's what chaos results from. But in the chaos, there's always the groove, the rhythm. The rhythm is everywhere, in a volcanic eruption, the time between two beats can be a thousand years, but the rhythm is still there. It's the sign of life, it's not something new...The rhythm is feminine. I perceive it as feminine because it's linked to life.

What do you expect from business? Is it something that scares you?

I do not expect much. I was very scared at a certain time but it calmed down with work. Today, I do not really think about it. It turns out that people who had money were interested in what I was doing and that we signed a contract to put on a record what I can give of myself. I do not know if it will work, I have no idea, it's not my job and let's say I do not care. But I am not irresponsible, I have the sense of the commitments I made, I will honor them. But I will only do my part as an artist. If you want me, what I expect is to have the means to be able to express myself as an artist, to be able to write, compose, sing. I do not expect to make money with it, just gain independence so I can continue to do what I have in mind, keep exploring.

Was playing solo was a kind of dress rehearsal for your group work?

After playing my own music for a long time, I think I came to the conclusion that I still did not know what it really was, and it disturbed me. I almost had an organic need to get closer to a band, to live these songs together. So, I stopped working solo and I looked for good musicians. Today, I think I can play solo again but I need the group relationship. From the human relationship, I mean. I need this contact. With a band, I feel stronger with more possibilities for my music and basically, that's what I've been looking for for years.

Psychologically you think you are prepared for success?

What is success!? It's already there in a way, I have a record, you've traveled thousands of miles to see me. It means that my music has touched people, that's the success, it's already on the way. I am already focusing on the next success. What will it be? I do not know, that my music is present in every home in North America? (smile) If it's music I'm proud of, fine. If I'm not proud, what's the point? The money? I'm fleeing this idea and these concerns.

Are you ready to see your face, your MTV heavy rotation all day, to the point of disgust?

No chance for now, thank goodness! (smile) My songs are out of format as they say, too long. My face is not nice, too tortured.They want trash but as soon as it looks like real life, it freaks. That said, I like the visual aspect that can work on a music, I like video, images, especially. I really like Björk's videos for example, there's a freshness, an ingenuity that I like. But I do not like TV, I do not like MTV, it's made for TV addicts, it's not for music, it's for selling toothpaste and Coca Cola and , incidentally, we put videos in the middle. It's the ad the purpose of the thing, it's not MTV they should be called, it's CTV, Commercial TV. It's about selling CDs, selling clothes, lipstick, selling a certain look, selling what Eddie Vedder represents for people, to make kids think they're rebels, sprawled all day in front of their receiver! The old gray whistle, Live At The Appolo, that's MTV, music television. You see living people playing music with their fingers, their hearts, their guts. It's made of flesh and blood, MTV is the culture of anemia in all its forms. But it works and even very well since it is becoming the norm. It's attractive, colorful, fast, you can easily succumb to it. It is the culture of my generation, I am not exempt from this fascination. But I am rebuffed, I am a bad bedfellow, touchy. it is enough that I am praised the qualities of orange juice all day long so that I want red wine, champagne, a fucking different thing, unique. I am a resistor in the video market because I do not like what is being said in the video. I do not like being taken for an idiot. Take me for a fool who will speak, Colgate, Coke light, Elisabeth Arden and Alice In Chains after without flinching, without reacting. I get off, I'm out, bye! And then, there would be a lot to say about the videos themselves, this side flashy, ultra fast, falsely dilapidated, the videos are made by guys who come from publicity who use it as a personal springboard, for the swagger and who hope to be noticed to get a bigger caché next time. They are careerists. The guy who set up MTV is a marketing genius, in ten years he made it the opium of the people, the ultimate drug, legal and planetary. That even a president in campaign can not ignore anymore. A fucking pretty shot. I have other priorities.

Which ones?

Go a little further, deepen things a little more. Go a little closer to the bone. To learn, to sing, to love, to be a right type, to give a little more magic (to smile), to think straight, to be a better human being. Get to use a bigger part of my mind without drugs. Reach this higher state. Imagine, if I can use a little more than only half of my brain, what will happen to me? Will I have six fingers on each hand? Will I turn gray? I want to know! Can I fly using my muscles? Can I converse with dolphins? I want to understand for myself, to live things by myself, that's why I like live. I want to stop feeding bad things. I refuse to be fed. Let them do things for me. I refuse to be intoxicated...(silence) And then, I would like to be a dancer, I always wanted to be a good dancer. Like Balanchine.

Your favorite word? Integrity?

No. Unity. Because we can fall. I can fall. Everyone can fall.