Johnny Marr – U.S. Tour Interview

Photos by Pat Graham

You are now a professor, a doctor, and a Godlike Genius. Which title are you most proud of?

Well, Godlike Genius seems to have been more important to fans so that’s been nice. I’m called “Johnny Fuckin’ Marr” all the time now anyway.

What was the biggest highlight of your UK tour?

There’s been quite a few highlights; for “Getting Away With It” in Glasgow there was a mirrorball the size of a car and that was quite a moment when we went into the guitar break. The whole place looked like a black and white movie — very beautiful. Hmmm…I think the Manchester Ritz weekend was a big deal for everybody. The homecoming always feels like an event and the shows were pretty charged.

It must feel different touring as the frontman than it does touring as the guitarist for a band. What are you finding to be the pros and cons of being the frontman?

There aren’t too many obvious things. My own situation has been pretty set for a long time. I kind of do what I want, but the one thing is that I can’t slope off quite so easily. We did a TV date the other day and the camera crew were with me all day, everywhere I went. I can’t take off so easy when journalists show up. Festivals are tricky for that stuff because I want to check out other bands or have a look around while someone else takes care of the media. The band go and find pancakes.

How do you cope with jet lag?

I don’t really cope with it, I just go with it and see what happens. I get jet lag even when I’m not on tour now. It’s become a habit or a syndrome or whatever. I can go to sleep at midnight and wake up at 1:15 A.M. and goof around playing or reading. I often rope a friend into going out for a long drive and park up somewhere to watch the city wake up. I’ve always liked driving at night. My sleeping patterns are interesting.

“Say Demesne” is my favorite song off ‘The Messenger.’ I was shocked when I first heard it because it reveals another side to your songwriting. It’s pretty dark sounding, and a little ominous. What can you tell me about the genesis of that song?

I had the music for that song first. It suggested a movie or a cinematic situation but I wanted to keep it about something real and grounded in reality. I didn’t want it to be virtual. I thought it would be good if it was saying something about the streets where I’m from or about real life. Even though it’s a story about someone who works on the street, it’s also about friendship, and about being broken inside, but trying to find beauty… in friendship, self repair, strangers…hmmm.

Were there any obstacles you had to overcome to create this album?

There were some obstacles but they’re technical boring things like getting the equipment right for the sounds. There are responsibilities and it takes time to be the producer of all the music. Technical things can be obstacles when you want  to get on with singing and playing. I produced the album and engineered it as well as played and sung, etc. That’s quite an undertaking work-wise. Doviak engineered and co-produced it with me so that was a help.

You’ve said in a few interviews that you prefer writing songs that are less emotional and more intellectual. This seems counterintuitive to me since you seem like the kind of person who is in touch with his emotions.  Can you explain this preference?

I didn’t want to sing about my emotions particularly and I had to explain this as there is nearly always an assumption made by people that songs must be about deep emotions. Weird. Why should they? If you think about it that’s a very narrow idea. That’s a bit like saying all graphic design must represent your emotional state, or all novels. Also, I’ve had to deal with people, and particularly people interviewing me, coming to this record with tons of assumptions, you know, like I write a track and then sit by a window chewing on a pencil and saying to myself “Hmm, now what do I write?” Funny. So many of the songs are led by the words.

How do you write lyrics? Do the concepts or the words come to you first? Do you write the lyrics or the music first?

I write things down that I think would be interesting for a song — a phrase or subject. Sometimes the music leads the way to an attitude or will suggest something. Songwriting is such a good thing because a notion can be made into poetry, poetry that moves at the speed of life, and works with electric guitars and drums. That’s the best poetry to me.

Will there be anymore singles or videos from this album?

“New Town Velocity” will be the next single. I have to make the video for it. I’ve enjoyed making the videos for this record, which is unusual for me but makes sense as they’ve been under my control — myself and my friend Mat Bancroft from Subset. Mat DJs at the shows sometime. He also did the sleeves with me.

Will there be any guest musicians joining you on stage during any of your US shows?

Yes, I think so. I like the moments when you can invite another musician and friends up to play. It’s a nice thing for the audience too. Justin from The Vaccines played with me recently. And Ronnie Wood.

Do you have any guest musicians planned yet?  Or anyone in mind?

No, I’m not sure yet. Nick Zinner (Yeah Yeah Yeahs) is someone I’d like to do something with. I love Nick.

Are you recognized less often in the US than the UK and, if so, does this afford you more freedom to explore the cities you visit?

I’m recognized less in the US and that does make it easier when you’re looking around. Most people who recognize you are very very nice and that’s fine. Getting pictures taken in airports or when you’re in a gallery can be awkward. It’s not a big deal though.

What are your favorite US cities and why?

Portland Oregon, obviously. I have friends there and I really like the atmosphere of the place. It’s quite easy going. I have a good connection with New York that goes back to the first Smiths shows and my time with The The. The speed of New York is stimulating. I mixed my album there.

Is there anything you look forward to in the US that you can’t do/buy/eat/etc. anywhere else?

Sriracha. I am a fan, as you know. I hear there are a few varieties around so I will be checking that out for sure. I like the galleries in New York. I’m always interested in good electronic music. Berlin is usually good for that.

Have you heard about the new Sriracha flavored potato chips by Lay’s?  You might want to bring an empty suitcase just in case they’re fabulous.

Yes, I have tried them. Pretty spectacular.

What can you tell me about the guys in your current band?

The band are really great. I’ve known them all a long time. Iwan Gronow plays bass. He was with me at the Patti Smith Meltdown shows at the Royal Festival Hall in 2005. Jack Mitchell I first met when he was in Haven, with Iwan, and I produced them in…2001? I’ve always loved Jack’s playing and his sound. He plays the drums on the album. Doviak is on guitar and keyboards. A friend told me about him when I was getting the Healers together in 2000 or something. He is a clever guy.

Are there any noticeable differences between your UK and US fans?

There are quite a few younger people at the UK shows at this point. I don’t know if that will be the same in the US. They know the new songs better than the old songs and that is pretty cool. There are, of course, people who go back with me who have been there since The The or Electronic and from The Smiths days too. It’s a nice mix.

Has your presence on Twitter had any effect on your relationship with your fans? Has touring made these changes more obvious to you?

Sure, I’ve got to see that quite a lot of them are pretty funny, and quite quirky, which I like of course. I feel like I have a good relationship with fans. I do like them.

What songs from your new album do you enjoy performing the most? 

“Right Thing Right” is a good kicker-offer. “Upstarts” gets everyone stomping. “The Messenger” is an unusual sound, I guess. “New Town Velocity” is often a nice moment. I could go through every one of the new ones and say something good. All the new songs were written with the live situation in mind a bit, so it’s logical that they work for me.

Which of your older songs are the most fun to play?

There are so many old songs to choose from now. “Bigmouth” is fun as I always liked it. The band really do a good job of it, as they do on all of them. I’m very happy to be playing “Forbidden City” as Electronic never got to play that song live. “Getting Away With It” goes down very well too.

Do you plan to keep up with your running while on this tour, or do you think you’ll be too busy?

I always try to find the time to get out and see the environment. It’s good for the mind as well as the body. I’ll pull the hoodie up and get out when I can.

At this point in your life what is your worst vice?

Good question, er… I hit the Coca Cola during shows and after too. I’m a bad, bad man. Crazy rock ‘n’ roll. I don’t think pot is a terrible thing, to be honest, but I myself always have so much stuff going on that I can’t be bothered with confusion, or slowing down too much. I need a vice, a new one. I’ll get one.

 Johnny’s U.S. Tour starts April 11, 2013

Previous Interviews With Johnny Marr:

Johnny Marr, part 1

Johnny Marr, part 2

Johnny Marr, part 3

Tulips

Fred Einaudi

At what age did people start to recognize that you had artistic talent?

By second or third grade I can remember some of my classmates (boys anyway) showing interest in my monster drawings. And while there was probably no denying that in this area I was a step or two ahead of my peers, its hard to say whether this was due to a natural born talent or just the fact that I spent so much of my goddamn time doing it.

I recently put your question to my parents, and all my mother could come up with was that she recalled my older brother showing a lot of promise from an early age but that he didn’t pursue it, whereas I did. Not exactly the answer I was fishing for, but it does illustrate my point.

The Chocolate Donut

Did you go to art school? What kind of artistic training have you had?

I did one year of art school, but then dropped out. I’ve never felt that academic environments were particularly well suited towards my temperament, and even the relative permissiveness of art school just ended up feeling like the same tedious continuum of the previous twelve years.

It was actually my high school art teacher, John Robinson, who had the greatest influence on my early development and subsequent pursuing of art. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have crossed paths with the man. My parents were very supportive as well, but because they were my parents, I naturally took any encouragement from them with a grain of salt (particularly as I never seemed to be excelling at much else).

Paddy Paws

Do you currently have a job or career outside of painting?

Odd jobs, here and there. No career to speak of. If you’re willing to be poor, it’s pretty easy to get by without working much. I don’t have a cellphone, never owned a car, I live and work in a crappy apartment on a bad street; so my cost of living is pretty minimal.

Do you paint in oils or acrylics? Or both?

Oils were my first real love, and to this day they’re what feel most natural and what I understand best. In the last few years though I’ve managed to deep-six a long-standing superstitious prejudice of acrylics and have found them to be not nearly so sinister as I once thought. Theres a prevalent tendency to regard oil as somehow more valid or compelling than its less charismatic younger sister acrylic, due in part to its historical record, but also to some less tangible quality that seems to border on alchemy. These days though, I’m trying not to subscribe to the sentimental hierarchy of art supplies. I’d like to think that any given medium is merely a tool at the disposal of the author, and has no inherent virtue of its own. Even something as lackluster as a dog turd should, in the right hands, be able to be used to good effect as a crayon…

The Mermaid

Are you working on any paintings currently?

I usually have about a dozen or so in varying forms of incompletion (though right now I believe the number is closer to twenty), of which maybe half will live to see the light of day. I can sometimes sit on a painting for a year or more before I figure out whats wrong with it, and correct it (or scrap it altogether), so it’s necessary to have other pictures I can turn to in the down time.

Which of your paintings is your favorite? Why?

Whichever painting is in its earliest stage of development is generally my favorite (which is another reason for starting more pictures than I finish). It is then that its most open to change, and that’s kinda exciting. The possibilities naturally become fewer as the painting moves further along towards its inevitable conclusion. By the time I am done with the picture, I am usually well over it and am tired of looking at the thing (and after a time, if and when I do, all I can see are the aspects I’m unhappy with). For this reason I seldom look at my finished pieces (though of course, even referring to a painting as “finished” is already a bit of a misnomer, as pictures are rarely anything more than the visual evidence of an uneasy compromise the painter has made with the canvas, and thus incomplete by nature. Really, any given artist’s body of work is just a long series of aborted attempts at an ideal. All the same, this is not so depressing as it sounds, and is perhaps what lies behind the drive to continue to the next piece: the desire to finally get one picture exactly right.).

Hunger

If you hadn’t become a painter what do you think your career would have been? Did you have any interests that rivaled painting?

When I was in high school, there was a “career day” in which each student filled out a questionnaire, and from the answers a line of work was suggested that was considered most applicable to him or her. According to my results, I would probably have been better off driving a bus.

Do other painters mostly inspire you or discourage you? (I ask this because I went to art school and I tend to get discouraged when I enjoy other painters, including you.)

I will admit that some of Andrew Wyeth’s paintings make me consider traveling to Maine in order to dig up his corpse and consume whatever rot remains in his brain case, on the off-chance that doing so would make me a better painter (allowing that it didn’t kill me first). In truth though, I’m not much for travel, and the last time I dug something as deep as a grave it took me the better part of a week and blistered the hell out of my hands, so Im afraid I will probably just have to learn to live with my jealousy.

That being said, I think one ultimately paints, not in order to become as good or better than ones influences, but because there are pictures out there that don’t exist and which you have a need to see. So you work with what you have, “talent” be damned. Coming from this perspective, being inspired or discouraged by someone else’s work isn’t particularly relevant. Personally though, if viewing others’ artworks fucks with your ability to make your own, I would stop doing it, as I think it preferable to make pictures than view them.

Patriot

Do you ever feel discouraged or unhappy with the world of fine art? If so, why? Would you change anything about how art is produced and experienced if you could?

(Again, I ask this because I went to art school. I felt unhappy in that world due to the narrow view of what constitutes good art at any given time, the art-speak that I was expected to adopt in order to communicate with artists, galleries, art historians, etc., and the hard-assed, dog-eat-dog attitude of many people I encountered.)

‘Art’ and ‘the world of fine art’ are two very separate beasts, and I find it best not to bother myself with the one which feeds off the other (as any organism interacts with parasites at its own peril). Though I wouldn’t go as far as to say that all institutions surrounding the sale, collection, instruction and/or discussion of art (and those who work within their walls) are inherently evil, the art world does tend to attract more than its fair share of both the greedy and the shallow. Artists, who by their very nature spend a disproportionate amount of time by themselves (and are therefore less practiced in the art of communication), tend to be easy prey for those looking to take advantage.

But truly, the business end of things has very little to do with the actual art itself and its creation (unless one is talking about corporate or public funded art, of which I know next to nothing, and therefore cannot speak of). Your artwork, my artwork: its all in the making; in the solitary hours of thought, play, and material manipulation. What comes after, when “culture” moves in and has it’s way with the remains, cant have any effect on that.

Regarding the art-speak you mention: I see it for the most part as a fairly bogus language that’s been created in an attempt to fill the perceived gaps inherent in a medium that’s not given to straightforward reading. The problem being that the basic impulse to expect that anything can eventually be decoded given enough verbiage, while perhaps understandable on the surface, is woefully ignorant of art’s true value, which is far more elusive than simple translation would ever allow for. As a tool language is about as useful at parsing “meaning” from an image as a fork would be in delivering a baby.

As for what I would change about the world of art, if I could… The Internet has already done so much in the last ten years to redress the public’s relationship to art, art viewing and the artists themselves, I’m not sure anything really need be done, other than to let time continue to run its course.

Buttonmaker

What would you change about the world if you could?

To my mind, probably the simplest approach to the worlds ills would be to just randomly neuter 99.95% of the population. There’d still be more than enough virile humans left to breed us back up to damage doing numbers in a couple millennia, but in the meantime it would give the earth a little time to rest and recuperate.

Extinction (study)

LINKS:

The Paintings Of Fred Einaudi

(Read Part 2)

PART 3: THE MARR SOUND & STYLE  / THE HEALERS / FANS & CRITICS / JOHNNY’S SIGNATURE JAG / AUTOBIOGRAPHY & LEGACY

When you play you have a certain sound. What is that sound? What are you doing?

No matter what equipment I’ve gone through, I tend to sound the same. That’s maybe because I’m attracted to a certain kind of thing. It’s probably easiest to tell you the things I try to dial out. I don’t like a sound that’s too forceful. I don’t like a sound that’s too standard. I don’t like a sound that’s too macho. That’s the main thing about it. I’m looking for something that’s got attitude in it, but it’s beautiful at the same time. It has to be beautiful but certainly with attitude. If I’m talking about what I’m doing now, I don’t want it to be terribly emotional but it has to have a sense of refinement about it… and has to be emotive. There are groups like Sigur Rös — their sound is entirely emotive, soundscape-y, and quite epic. Very, very beautiful and dramatic. I like a lot of that but I’m glad I try to wrap up what I do in a sort of punchy, 4 minute power-pop song. I could write very moving, slow, emotional music all day long and maybe I will do that at some point… but, well, I’ve got the desire to do some punchy stuff. It has to be good to jump around to on stage as well. Also, I have to write music that I can sing.

Music you can sing?

I like singing and I like singing a certain way. Not all music is going to be right for me to sing over. I don’t really want to croon too much. I don’t want to be too ballad-y. I like that stuff but it isn’t really what I’m about and I want to do what I’m good at. That’s a consideration in my mind. I have to do what I do naturally as a guitar player but I want to write songs that I want to sing over – not for somebody else to sing over.

From what I can tell from hearing bootlegs of some of your recent shows, the lyrics on your new Healers songs seem more complex and poetic than the lyrics on The Healers’ first album.

On the first record I was just finding my way, I think, and I think I was too cautious – I know I was too cautious. It was a scary prospect. It was something that had to be done, but I was definitely over-cautious. Now, I can’t wait to do more and more. It’s not that I’m reckless about it, but I really want to be the best I can be and I really want to fulfill my potential for myself. I know it’s going to be judged in public– I’m grateful to have that opportunity. I want to be great on my own terms.

Do you care less now what people think than you did when you made the first Healers album?

In some ways, yes. I want people to like it and I do care, but I think I’d be less affected by it then I would have been back then. It’s been quite a while since the first record. There are new people who I want to like my stuff.

Did you start performing The Smiths’ songs again because you reconnected with them while remastering them? 

No, I reconnected with them before that because of Neil Finn and Ed O’Brien from Radiohead. They have a mentality that I respect, so when I was asked if I’d play The Smiths’ songs when I was in New Zealand, my reservations seemed pointless.  Also, other people do them and sometimes not very well. Don’t get me wrong, there are lots of people who’ve done Smith’s covers and done a really good job of it. That’s an incredible thing. Low’s version of “Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me” is just beautiful and Placebo did a version of “Bigmouth Strikes Again” that was really good. Supergrass did ”Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others”, which was really good too. Other people were doing the songs and I thought, well, why shouldn’t I? I just dropped the attitude, really. I think I was right not to do them for so long. It just didn’t feel right to do them before that. Chrissie Hynde got me to sing “Meat is Murder”. Because the context was a celebration of Linda McCartney, who I will always have great respect and admiration for, the idea of turning that down because of some petty politics was ridiculous. It put it into perspective. All I had to do was sing a song that I’m really proud of in honor of a fantastic person – It really was an honor. I just felt it was time to change. I thought Chrissie Hynde was going to sing it until the day before. …I think she tricked me. [smiles]

Who are The Healers?

They are endearing oddballs who are really loyal and really sweet.

Tell me about  Doviak [James Doviak - guitar]. How did you meet him and what is he like?

I met Doviak in San Francisco. A friend of mine turned me on to a website that he did back then called Radio Laos. He was playing all this really strange music. Doviak is a really interesting person. He’s very educated, very well read. He’s the studio science guy. He’s a boffin. He’s a very, very good guitar player. I’ve known him since about 2004. He played on the Boomslang tour. The first Healers were a six piece. I wanted it to be this trance-y, heavy band that played long songs and that I was just one sixth of, but people just weren’t that interested in that.

James Doviak

Why did you want that?

Because that was the sort of group I wanted to go see. Really simple. I wanted to see a group that did that. At that point, I was sick of one guy up front holding the microphone or even one guy with the guitar and the microphone and everyone else behind him. I just wanted a big equal group. We did a couple of gigs that were really great and really heavy, but I learned that people aren’t really that interested in me doing that because it didn’t have enough of my sound in it. And they were right.

How about Max [Max James – bass]? Who is he? He seems very serious. Does he ever smile? 

He does — in private. Max is a really interesting guy. He’s really into writing stories.  He’s a real DIY person who likes the underground music. He likes rock ‘n roll. He reminds me of when I first started to go to New York in the ‘80s and there was a lot of performance art around, and a lot of aggressive, un-commercial but rocking music. These are the things I really like about him. It’s kind of like he’s from a different time — like something from a ‘50s novel.

Max James

Do you have a drummer?

Not yet.  I’m trying out a couple of different guys at the moment.

You’ve put a lot into your personal style, and it’s changed a lot over the years. Do you have a style icon? 

I don’t want to give all my secrets away. [smiles] I think a lot of musicians have a connection to their early inspirations. I think most creative people are like this. If you make such a big deal of artistry and inspiration then I suppose it makes sense that you’re not going to throw it away too easily. A big thing that happened to me was glam rock – I might start wearing glitter on my eyes and such – and I guess that’s why I started wearing nail polish again.

This shirt that I’m wearing now – my sister and I used to wear these shirts in the late ‘70s. These guys called the Perry Boys used to wear them. They always made quite an impression on me. In the Smiths, when I used to wear a sheepskin coat and these necklaces over a sweater and sweaters around my waist — that all came from the Perry Girls. That’s something I saw girls on the street wearing. They weren’t very rock and roll. They were sort of street. Rock ‘n roll in the late ‘70s in the UK – there were a lot of students involved. It was kind of an intellectual thing. I’m talking about working-class people who considered music press to be pretentious. They were probably right. I always liked and admired their style even though I was into music press and rock ‘n roll.

When you were in Electronic you looked very different.

I think I was just done with rock ‘n roll at that time. I look back, and in hindsight it seems like I veered off and went down some kind of side road, and that might actually be the case, but I’m really, really glad I did. I was very lucky to do that. In the ‘90s rock music in the UK was very boring and obvious to me. Even though I was young I was fine with the new bands coming up and doing it. The groups who were really taking over rock music like Oasis and Blur – it was their time to do that. I wanted to explore something else. I suppose that was reflected in the way I looked. I didn’t really want to know rock ‘n roll. I’m really glad I did that because it got me back into Ennio Morricone in a really big way. These things are connected. For example, “Say Demesne” would not have happened if it had not been for Electronic. All these things are around me and they’ll go back into what I do now. I suppose it’s the same with what I wear — my aesthetic.

Electronic

Not wanting to be a part of rock ‘n roll — was that a reaction to having been in a really successful and iconic band?

Sure. Yeah — and just not wanting to do things I’d done before. That idea of searching. I got the idea for that orange center parted haircut from — [searches - holds up a still of David Bowie from “The Man Who Fell To Earth”]

That’s lying around my studio because I like looking at these things. So, there’s a consistency going on there. Maybe if people google and look at some old pictures they’ll think “What was he doing there?”, but I was just being kind of mod, really.

I thought rock ‘n roll was really old-fashioned at that time. I wasn’t exactly recoiling, but I thought a lot of rock bands were old-fashioned. Bernard and I, we weren’t hibernating. I had a sense, not of pioneering but of crusading in my own life. It would’ve been terrible if I had gotten stuck looking the same and sounding the same for ten years.

For the longest time “Get The Message” by Electronic was my absolute favorite thing I ever did. I used to say that a lot. That wasn’t me trying to be perverse ‘cause I know people really loved The Smiths, but I really, really loved that record. It doesn’t sound like anybody else. To this day… It doesn’t sound like New Order, it doesn’t sound like The Smiths, and it’s got a really amazing atmosphere about it. Whenever I hear it I’m super proud of it. There’s a few like that but that was particularly special.

Tell me about your goggle collection. 

Johnny Marr in "Dashboard"

You’ve said that you’re very DIY. Tell me about that. 

I can iron on the sidewalk and shave in a puddle.  I ran Johnny’s Laundry on tour. I fixed Andy Rourke’s suede jacket. I remember doing that. He was always coming to me — sometimes Mike too — asking me to help out with sewing things. So I know all of those tricks from growing up. I fixed Gary Jarman’s shirt, pierced Ryan Jarman’s ear, and stuff like that. I learned some pretty good skills when I was a teenager.  Being left to my own devices as a kid was really good. I recommend it.

Johnny Marr, ironing.

This kind of thing makes you seem more accessible. You don’t really act like a pop icon.

Is that a good thing?

I think it’s a very good thing. 

I think the job is to be good on stage, be a good artist, be good in a group, and do your work.  The work’s the important thing for me and part of my work is being good on stage. I like staying in fancy hotels and I like traveling in style but I like that I can fix somebody’s jacket for a video shoot as well. These are things I picked up from my sister. Guys aren’t usually good at this stuff.

Does your sister still go to your shows?

She came to see me when I played with Chic recently. She turned me onto Chic, so I think that was the biggest thing for her. For her, seeing me play with Chic was bigger than anything else I’ve done.

Was your guest appearance on Portlandia fun for you?

It was ridiculous because I was that guy who was laughing too much. That’s got to be so annoying but Carrie [Brownstein] and Fred [Armisen] seemed to like it because, well, maybe they were just being nice, but they said that’s how they knew it was funny. I knew that the first rule of being filmed is to not blow it for the others, but they’re both just too funny. I had a really, really good time. It was cool. The director’s a cool guy too. I was in London a couple of months ago and these two guys walked past me and said “That’s not my bike!” [smiles] I like that I’ve got a catchphrase now.

Did I read somewhere that you were on a TV show when you were a teenager? 

Yes. I was on TV every week for about eight weeks on a show about disaffected youth, mostly because of the way I looked. A couple of guys and a woman came into the shop I was working in — not X Clothes but the one before that — with a clipboard, and said they were doing a program with about 100 unemployed teenagers. They wanted their opinions. “Do you want to come and be on the show?” I said “Well, you’re in my place of work, so how does that work?” They said they needed somebody who looked like me, so that was it. I got paid £35 and lunch and I got a free suit from my boss every week. So that was a pretty sweet deal. Around the same time I was on another local TV show talking about fashion. There weren’t too many people who looked like Angie and me at that time who were our age. People who looked like us were usually older.

Disaffected Youth

At the time did you think of it as breaking into the business?

No, I didn’t really take it seriously at all. I didn’t ever want to answer questions. For eight weeks I only made like one comment, so I did pretty well at avoiding any responsibility. I didn’t really want to get my opinions out there, I just wanted to make £35 and get a free suit.

What did Angie’s family think of your influence on her?

They were a little nervous at first because she was so young and so was I, but they saw how serious we were about each other. When I look back on it now I think they were amazing. I’m really close to Angie’s family. They kind of just went with it. Any young people who click so well — good luck to them. People shouldn’t stand in their way. No one should stand in the way of that. It’s great.

Who are you writing your songs for? Is it the fans in your mind when you’re writing?

Mostly I’m writing for my mates and for fans. The band, and my slightly wider circle of friends — who aren’t a vast army — and then the fans — people who I think are like me. I want my peers to like it and I want my peers to play it and I want my peers to be impressed, but I want fans to like it, really – fans of what I do. There are people now who like the Smiths, they like Modest Mouse, they like Morrissey, they like me, they like The Cribs, they like Radiohead, and… I don’t know… Elliott Smith – just a whole sort of group of people.  That’s really cool. That’s come over time.

Do you get feedback directly from fans?

No, it happens over time. I’m very lucky that The Smiths’ fans were really passionate straight off. We attracted a certain kind of person who was very into the group exclusively. It made me feel like I had a connection, made me feel like I was living in a world that was different from the regular world. I’ve never known any different. That’s pretty fortunate. It was never about critics, although obviously we were very lucky there too.

I’ve been around a long time — anything beyond 3, 4, 5 years is a long time, doing what I do. I go to Japan and someone will talk about a B side that meant so much to them when they were in college — they had this romantic encounter — I’ve had that with Boomslang.  When that happens to you you know that’s more important than anything else. Other things might matter a little bit. The critics do have a bearing, but compared to what I’m talking about that’s way down there. You can’t design this stuff. You can be a clever musician and be clever with your career, but when someone comes up to you years after the fact to say “I just want to say that this song meant this to me” — and in my case it’s unusual because it’s not usually about the lyrics, it’s about the tune and the riff and all that. It puts all the other stuff into the shade, really. I’m very lucky because all of that other stuff that has a bearing on my career is secondary to much more personal things. Also, the stuff I want to do as an artist — it’s pretty much the same feeling I had when I was 14 and 15.

You have a very positive effect on your fans. I’ve spoken to some who have met you and they tell me that the conversations you’ve had with them after shows are always uplifting and encouraging. One woman told me that a brief talk with you raised her self-esteem and made her want to finish the novel she was writing.

Well, it’s a two way street though, isn’t it? I just think when I meet people, especially if they’re being nice to me and they’re fans, that they’re giving me something too. They’re really giving me something… and I’m not talking about compliments; I’m talking about how they’re so open. That’s an amazing thing to give to somebody. It’s trust. Trust is a fantastic thing.

I’d imagine it must be difficult for you to trust people though.

I have a pretty good instinct for sussing people out. I got that from my dad. I’m pretty discerning. It’s got nothing to do with fame or anything. Maybe it comes from the same place as being an artist. Most of us are pretty good at sussing people out. You know what? Most people who come up to talk to me — fans — are really nice. Really, really nice. That’s a good thing for me.

That woman you’re talking about would have been giving me her trust, would have been being gentle and kind, etc., so if I don’t reciprocate I’m the one who would lose. People who like me… I like them too. [smiles]

I know you’re very proud of your Signature Jaguar.  Did you always dream of creating a custom guitar, or was that something that hadn’t occurred to you until it was suggested?

The second thing. It had been mentioned a couple of times during my career, but I never took it seriously. It wasn’t proposed to me like Fender proposed it to me. Other companies just liked the idea of having my name on the guitar for marketing reasons. I never took those offers seriously. I resisted the short-term vanity buzz of that. It didn’t seem real enough. This one turned out so well for so many reasons… because I was already designing and building the guitar that I ended up having my name on. I was already doing it of my own volition and Fender heard about it. “Why is Johnny buying all these parts? Why is he playing with all these Jaguars? He’s playing the blue one …now he’s playing a black one …now he’s got one with stickers on it and he’s talking about it. What’s going on here?” I think it was so great of them to just help me out when I needed it and let me go away and build this thing myself with my guitar guy who’s been working on my guitars since 1987. This guy, Bill Puplett, is the best in the world. And he’s such a humble person. That was a big part of it for me — working with Bill.  He understands me really well. Fender said they’d do anything they could do to help. They were great about it, so it was such a great process. It was built on a really good foundation and people are taking it in the right spirit. People really like it. People are playing it who wouldn’t normally play it. I saw a picture of The Beach Boys — The Beach Men– The Beach Fellas playing it the other day and that was so cool. Troy from Queens Of The Stone Age was playing one and he’s cool too. Occasionally I’ve had people say “Well that’s all well and good, but why is your guitar so expensive?” Well, it isn’t. It’s the same price as their regular one. It’s very important to me that they at least try to make mine at the same price as one that doesn’t have all that work on it. We can’t do any better than that. Everybody involved has been really great and it’s super successful. I really can’t believe it.

Do you have any plans to play with Andy Rourke ever again?

If Andy and I were living in the same city, which may happen again at some point, then we’re going to play together. Definitely.

Andy Rourke & Johnny Marr, NYC, 2011

How would you like to be remembered?

I’d like to be remembered for being a really really liked guitar player. That’s what I’d like to be remembered for.  A well-liked guitar player who played unusual pop music. There are so many rock guitar players and it seems like if you’ve been known for playing the guitar anytime since the late ‘50s, then there’s a lot of cultural baggage that comes along with that and I don’t think that that’s part of my time. My time is a different time. I believe that my time from the early 70s, from the time I was 11 or 12 or so, had some quirks that regular rock guitar culture and all its baggage doesn’t include. I really liked Peter Green, the original guitar player from Fleetwood Mac and I really admire what Jimmy Page did, but my being 11 or 12 with the desire and the knack for it was strange timing. Everybody thinks that their era was fantastic – and I’m not talking about Smith days – I’m talking about my formative years. The things that I was really drawn to do when I was a formative musician still sound pretty quirky to me till this day. Almost more so now. Things like the T-Rex big A sides and some Sparks songs — all that sort of early stuff that I was really mesmerized by and inspired by. Not that my music sounds like a copy of that, or even that people can hear that in my music, but I’m a product of those times and of course I’m really happy to be in a lineage of great musicians for being a guitar player. I want to be remembered for playing guitar pop.

I know you’ve been asked to write your biography.  When might that happen? 

I really want to do it well. I know what I’m like, so I’ll get absorbed in it. I’m going to give myself 6 to 8 months to write it, which I think is realistic. I want to do it full-time when I do it. I’m probably going to write it at the end of 2014. Yesterday I was asked by management for a serious answer on that and I said 2015 at the latest because I know what I’m like — when this record’s done I’ll want to do two more. A year goes by so quickly, so 2015 at the latest. I also don’t want to absorb myself in the past at this point. When I do it I’ll be ready to really do it.

What’s going to happen next for you, say in the next year or so?

Well, I don’t want to say things that might not happen. I just want to carry on trying to be great.  Success seems like a different sort of thing to me now. I want to be successful for the people around me. I want what I do to be successful because there’s quite a few people who rely on me. I want this record to be successful… I want people to understand what I’m doing. I want for fans to like it. I want my fans to like it. Something happened a few years ago. Some corner got turned and I didn’t notice I was turning it, but it happened and it’s great.

You mean you turned a corner in songwriting or…?

Yes, and the way I feel about performing and the way people who are interested in me know more about me now… and have a different opinion about me, I think, than the people who followed me years ago. …If I’ve got something to prove it’s not a negative thing. It’s just a desire to do good stuff.

LINKS:

Official Johnny Marr

@Johnny_Marr on Twitter

Official Johnny Marr on Facebook

VIDEOS:

(Read Part 1)

PART 2: TWITTER / TATTOOS / TECHNOLOGY / HUXLEY / AMERICA / CREATIVITY

People seem to really enjoy your tweets. I enjoy your ranty tweets in particular.

That’s why I don’t tweet so much anymore though. I’ve gotten a bit more guarded about it.  Twitter started out as a fun experiment for me. It’s something I never thought I’d do. Some strange things happen on Twitter though. Like, it occurred to me that when guys start going on about Led Zeppelin records and The Who records and all of that, it’s like when they go on about cars, but the girls I know are really pretty smart and they don’t like classic rock. I thought that was funny and I tweeted about it. The next thing I knew I had 400 people, mostly women, calling me sexist because they think I’m saying they’re too stupid to know a bloody Jethro Tull record, when in fact, I’m kind of making fun of the boys for being silly train spotters about stupid stuff.

When that David Cameron thing happened it was about 20 minutes to 8 in the morning and I was about to go to bed. I’d been working all night and I was jetlagged. I’d only just started on Twitter then. I had like 7,000 followers or something.  I thought “It’s been a few days since I’ve said anything and these people who have been kind enough to follow me might think I’m sort of being lazy.” I had just come back to the UK from working with Hans Zimmer. …It just came to my mind. I wasn’t too bothered about David Cameron. I thought it was silly what he was saying about being a fan of The Smiths, so I just said it and then I went to bed. I woke up about noon, phone ringing like crazy. My manager was asking me what he should do about all of these requests from TV news programs. I looked at my iPhone and I had about 20,000 more followers in five hours. I didn’t know what was going on. What I learned from that experience was that there are a lot of fundamentalist people out there. So many people were saying things like “Johnny Marr, where do you get off telling people they can’t like your music?! Everyone can be a fan of your music! You can’t just tell people that they can’t be a fan of your music!!” And “You’ve got to get your politics sorted out!” I was like — Woagh! So many people just like to complain. They’ve had a sense of humor bypass. I was just being glib, as I often am. It’s a shame I have to be careful what I say, because most of the time I’m just trying to be funny. Loads of people caught it, don’t get me wrong. Mostly it was girls who got it. Around the same time I saw an article in the newspaper that said that social networks suit women more than they suit men. Girls are able to be succinct, and quite funny and poetic and have a dialogue in a way that guys just don’t.

I get the feeling that you don’t like men as much as women. Is that true?

Well, other than my first 11 months I’ve never not had a girl in my life. That was my sister until I was 15 or 16 and at 15 I had Angie… Then at 30 I had my daughter. I’ve never not had a girl with me. Maybe that’s something to do with it.

Does it bother you that so many people tweet you only to ask you when you’re going to reform The Smiths?

It’s just so dumb, but I try to remember that each one of those people is an individual and they’re not aware that I was just asked the same question ten times. I try to imagine that if I were to reply in an irritated way it might be hurtful to that person. They don’t understand it in the right context… and they certainly don’t care. The bigger problem is that I sort of have to try not to get disillusioned with a large amount of people. I have to consider everybody as being sort of one-dimensional. Sometimes I just go ARRGH  – [smacks forehead].

How many tattoos do you have?

Why did you wait so long before you got them?

I needed an idea to get me rolling. The first one that I got, Shiva, happened because Aldous Huxley explained it as being the greatest symbol. Anyone interested can hear what he has to say about that on the recording called “Speaking Personally.” What he said about it was incredible. It was better than getting Aldous Huxley’s face on my arm, which I toyed with.

Because (The Shiva tattoo) has metaphysical and religious connotations I wanted to balance it out with my own metaphysical and religious connotations to remind myself, as an old man, that however holy I get with the holiest of holy symbols not to forget that as a young child that that was just as religious to me. To never forget my religion whether I’m a musician or not and to make a commitment to the first half of my life. Putting that 45rpm on there was me committing to who I’d been up until I was about 45 years of age. It’s a reminder of who Johnny Marr’s been. It was also taking the high-mindedness out of the enormous symbolism of the Shiva. I know that my 45rpm is just as transcendent.

The next two I got were the North and South. I didn’t want the Ying and Yang, but it’s a similar kind of thing. Also because of my children, Nile and Sonny. And the Alexander Technique as well, being grounded but… And now I’m thinking of Casey Kasem.

… Why?

Because he said to keep your feet on the ground but to keep reaching for the stars. [smiles]

LINKS:

Official Johnny Marr

@Johnny_Marr on Twitter

Official Johnny Marr on Facebook

VIDEOS:

This interview was conducted over the course of several sessions, May – July 2012.  The interview will be published in 3 parts. Thank you, Johnny, for your time and for the depth of your answers.

PART 1: MANCHESTER / SCHOOL DAYS / FAMILY / TROUBLE / DRUGS

How are you?

I’m OK. I’m pretty good. I’m working really hard, as always. The record’s going all right. It’s a lot of work, but I like work. I kind of forgot that I’d be the producer and the singer and all that. That means I have to be there for everything, really. I’m not complaining. I’m spinning all these plates, but I still wake up in the morning really happy that I get to make music.

When you wake up is it usually morning?

Well, that’s a figure of speech… But I do. I wake up really really early. For the last five or six years I sleep in these little three or four hour bursts and then I get these creative ideas around three o’clock in the morning. Sometimes I go to bed late and then wake up two hours later and I’ve got a better song.

Are you happy with that or does it feel like a sleep disorder?

No, I’m happy with it because I’m sure I’ll get to do lots of sleeping when I get older — too much sleeping. I’m happy with it because I’m overrun with ideas. They might not all be good, but it’s nice to be flooded with ideas about things. I think that’s why I stay awake. I have sort of strange sleep patterns. Sometimes I’ll just go on these jags, go for walks around the city in the middle of the night.

You mean when you live-tweet your adventures? So these adventures actually happen?

It depends. The helicopter one was real.

How about when you were tweeting from a train station at night?

Oh, yeah — that was fantastic. I do that a lot. Manchester’s great for that kind of thing. I don’t know how it is in America, but in Manchester it’s not too scary out late at night. It’s kind of scary if there are lots of people coming out of bars, etc., but in the dead of night it’s all right.

When I was a teen I thought Manchester was the most exotic place on earth.

Well, it was for me as well… And I lived it.

Really? Why?

That’s one of the reasons why I’m here — I’ve got an affection for the city. I’m really proud of coming from Manchester. One of the reasons I’m here is because I think it’s the best city to be in. I still see things about it that were romantic when I was a kid. It’s still kind of romantic now, really.

It’s changed a lot though, hasn’t it? It used to seem more grey and sad to me. It no longer seems quite that way. Am I wrong?

No. That’s right. I have kind of mixed views about that. I’m glad for young people — that they’re not standing around in litter, and they’re able to get a tram and enjoy the advantages of the modern place, but it doesn’t look quite as poetic. The interesting thing is that in the late ‘70s, when I was in my early teens, there was a feeling around the city that the future was going to be a sort of dystopia, and part of dystopia was this poetic landscape… But the thing that happened was that we all got a lot more comfortable and the poetry got killed off by luxury.

Yet you’re still there.

Well, it’s the best place to make music and that’s why I came back from Portland. My family will support me and be excited and involved in whatever I’m involved in… And they’ll be wherever I am. There’s no separation between my work and my family. Just like there’s no separation between me and my son’s work. We’re all sort of in it together, really. We’re a pretty creative family. There’s no distinction between family life and work life.

What were you like as a child?

I was really sensitive and really quiet. My sister is 11 months younger than me, which is known as having an Irish twin. Me and my sister were very very close up until age 15, 16, 17 — which is quite unusual, I think. I grew up in an environment that was intense. It was intensely religious, intensely Irish, intensely musical, and intensely young.

My parents were very young when I was born. They were about 17 or 18. Growing up I had very tight relationships with several women who were very young as well. My memories of being, say, 5 and 6, are of spending a lot of time hanging out with 22 and 23 year old women. They were enjoying a sort of liberation after coming from little villages in Ireland. It was very working class and very Irish. There wasn’t a lot of money around, but it was a lot compared to where they’d left.

They were full of vibrant energy. They were from the country. They weren’t quite hell raisers because they were very Catholic, but if they weren’t Catholic they would’ve been raising hell. There were a lot of parties. There was a lot of struggle. I’m trying not to sound too melodramatic, but I really felt a lot of intensity and drama around me. There were a couple of streets where my relatives all lived. This big family of young Irish kids all moved to Ardwick Longsight. My mother comes from a family of 14 and my father comes from a family of 7. They came over en masse and I was one of the first kids, so I was often in charge of younger children.

When I was ten I got moved out to the suburbs from the inner city. I’d already started playing the guitar and because I’d come from the inner city I was already pretty into my clothes. My relationship with my sister was quite important. The two of us looked a lot alike. We arrived in this suburban town that had a reputation for being pretty tough, but the place we’d come from, Ardwick, was much much tougher, so it was like arriving in Beverly Hills for us.

The other thing about my childhood, I realize now, is that I was spoken to like I was an adult. Nothing was really off limits in terms of what the adults talked about. They weren’t too paranoid about what they would discuss in front of us in terms of who had been fighting with who and who hadn’t come home for two days and which uncle had been thrown out and which uncle was about to be thrown out and why. So there was a lot of very grown-up conversation around me all the time. The language was very colorful and the drinking was even more colorful… as was the dancing. In that order.

When the adults asked me about my guitar playing it was in a quite serious fashion. Things like “how long have you been playing”, etc. They all played — not professionally or anything like that — and it was assumed that you were going to be good. From a musical point of view I had these part-time musicians and full-time obsessives assuming that I was working towards being very good. It was never assumed that I was ever going to make money at it because that was for people on Mars. The mindset of my environment was that we were lowly. Because of the class system, and particularly when you’re from another country, it was unthinkable that you’re going to end up with a big house or anything like that.

You often speak of your mother, but you rarely mention your father. What’s he like?

He’s really quiet. When I got to about 10 or 11 he didn’t really know how to communicate with me. He’s not a great communicator anyway, and that’s all right. He’s a quiet guy. As I’ve gotten older, you know, …my dad’s a good guy. I like him.

Do you hang out with your parents and siblings much?

Not really. They let me sort of live this sort of artistic life and don’t trip on me too much. I really appreciate it because when you get into adult life a lot of people’s parents make them feel guilty for not calling. My parents don’t do that. We don’t even live that far away, but they just know I’m really busy. They’ve been pretty consistent with that. They let me do my own thing from the time I was 14 or 15. Younger, really, because I was going to concerts when I was about 11 or 12.

Do you ever see your extended family?  Aunts, cousins, etc?

No, never. Never. I haven’t seen them since I was 14 or 15. When I started to imagine the reality of being able to get away from my environment I did everything I could to do that. It started out with getting into the City Center and hanging out there, seeing whatever shows were going on, hanging out in shops and bars and then hanging out in strangers’ houses because they were people I could write songs with. Mostly musicians. I was pretty fearless like that. I spent a lot of time at Andy Rourke’s house at the time. I slept at his house a lot. That was pretty wayward because his parents didn’t live there. They split up and his dad was away on business all the time. So we were like brothers. It was Andy and his three brothers and me and Angie. I spent a lot of time at Andy’s from the time I was 15, then, as soon as I knew how to sneak onto the train from Manchester without paying, I just extended my travels to London. That was very handy because Billy Duffy, who was older and a musician and had a little flat in London, was working in a clothes shop. Billy was kind of my go-to in London… whether he liked it or not. So he had this kind of little truant friend who would just kind of turn up on a Friday and crash at his house until Monday or Tuesday.

Johnny Marr & Andy Rourke

Were you still in school at this time?

Yes.  Well, we were supposed to be, but in the last couple years me and Andy didn’t really go to school very much. Then we were invited to continue our absence. We weren’t expelled because they just couldn’t be bothered bestowing that honor on us — “If you’re not going to bother coming we’re cool with that.” So the last year we really didn’t go to school.

When you became a parent were you more protective of your kids than your parents were with you? Does it shock you how unsupervised you were?

I was more protective, but I think we live in a tougher world now. My mother was very young and coping with two children without a lot of money. The fact that I was quiet and I was able to escape through pop music, that meant pop music was, in a way, like a babysitter for me. From the time I was about five I’d stand upon a chair and stay stood on the chair in front of the radio for 2 or 3 hours after school. My mother would clean the house and just leave me to it, completely uninterrupted. My family used to tell me stories about how obsessive I was about music, how I was unusually drawn to it. …A movie came out about twelve years ago called “East Is East” that’s set in the UK in the late ‘60s. There’s a lot of corny pop songs from the day as the soundtrack — songs I wouldn’t have heard since I was 5 or 6. While I was watching this movie I knew every word to the songs. If an oldies station is on and a record comes on that I’ve got no business knowing — some Drifters song that I don’t even know I like — I’ll know all the words inside out. So I know they’re not exaggerating.

When you do a lot of interviews over the years you start to wonder how much of what you’re remembering is mythology or whether you’re just trying to make yourself sound more interesting at times. So, a few years back I checked with my parents about this story I’ve told about how they’d leave me in a department store and take off. My mother said it’s true. I said to her “It’s weird — I must have just been drawn to the shape of the guitars.” She said it wasn’t just the guitars though; it was the amplifiers as well. I don’t know why that is… I always wanted to escape.

Escape from what?

I wanted to escape the world. I wanted to escape what I was around and what I was hearing… the conversations I was having with people… people’s personalities — life. I wanted to escape my consciousness, my feelings, what I was seeing. It’s like how Wordsworth wrote The World Is Too Much With Us. I had a love of music and a love of melody and rhythm and sounds and all the things that make up pop music. I needed it to escape normal life. I still do, but I really did then. It’s more of a need than just an attraction.

Did your parents support that or were you told to be more sensible?

The second thing you said. They loved that I was passionate about music because they’re passionate about music as well. They were proud of that, but I had to fight with them quite a lot as a teenager because I wanted to be a professional musician. It must have been hard for my dad because I was kind of wild in a way. I was nice, but in my teens I was kind of wild. I was so idealistic and very energetic.

When we moved to the suburbs I changed a lot. It was like starting over for me. Moving really set me free. It was amazing. No one knew the real me and because I played guitar everyone assumed that I was very confident, so I learned how to be confident. I just reflected what they thought I was. I suppose it was the other side of me.

That’s interesting because I’ve always felt like our personalities are mostly formed at birth, but it sounds like you did a lot of changing. 

That original side of me that was there when I was born and when I was young is still there. That side’s never gone away. I just learned not to be timid.

Did you make an effort not to be timid?

No, I got lucky — this vivacious side just came out and I got kind of brave. It’s all because of the guitar. It gave me an identity. I didn’t know it was such a big deal until I moved to a new place. I was a new kid who came into a school… I came from the inner city… I had this guitar and I got quite a lot of attention, so I just rolled with it.

Is it true that you had some trouble with the law when you were a teenager?

Oh, [shy smile]…yeah.

And now you’re an upstanding citizen. What changed?

I was never a bad person. I was never not a nice person, I don’t think. I was just a little wild and very daring. I wasn’t scared of anything. But I always liked people and I was never violent. I would never do stuff like stealing from a person or anything like that. I liked a bit of devilment and a little bit of being dangerous and pushing the limits, but I have a good survival instinct as well. When I was younger I was always around people who were much crazier, but I was able to draw a line and not go too far with things… whether it was drugs or any kind of recklessness. I always wanted to experience a lot of things.

May I ask what you got in trouble for?

Were you ever arrested?

Yes. A couple of times.

Did that scare you?

It did the last time because it looked like it was really serious. The big trouble I got into was not because I stole something; it was because one of my friends stole some art. I had introduced him to this dodgy guy and I got caught in the middle of it… But that was just me being a nice guy. This guy was just bothering me so much. His friend had acquired some stolen art. He thought I would have some contacts in the underworld… which I kind of didn’t. [smiles] But I’m quite resourceful, so I found out who the local contact was in the underworld who specialized in these kinds of matters and put Mr. X with Mr. Y and all shit broke loose. It was really quite serious. It was kind of a learning curve. It sort of toughened me up. Years later I can say that I do have the honor of having been busted with my guitar plugged into my amp, so several million rock ‘n roll points to me. [smile]

Johnny Marr, 1978, Age 14

Why did you legally change your name to “Johnny Marr?” Was your family upset about that at all?

I was so young when I decided to do it. It didn’t really occur to me at that age that it might hurt my parents’ feelings. I’m not sure whether it did, but when I got to be well known, at first, I think it was a bit awkward for them having to explain that I had a different name. It’s very simple — the first time I thought it would be cool to have a different name was when more people started to call me “Johnny.” My parents still call me “John.” It’s kind of endearing, really. It makes them different from everybody else.

Also, it was because I was so into Marc Bolan. He changed his name from M-A-R-K to M-A-R-C… And because my name could work with an M-A-R I think there was quite a bit of that in it as well. I used to write it on my books. It’s not that far from M-A-R-C to M-A-R-R. I think that was subconsciously in my mind. Then when The Buzzcocks came out and their drummer had the same name I knew I had to change it even though I was only maybe 14. I thought OK, this person’s in the same profession as me… even though it was a long way before I was professional. That shows you how determined I was to make my living as a musician. That was the main reason I changed it. I even told school that they had to change my name. There was one other thing as well — if you’re called “Maher” it’s only people in Ireland who can pronounce it. They know it’s pronounced mar. In England everyone says may-her… or mayer or mah-ther. I changed it legally as soon as I could afford it; I changed it when The Smiths started.

People who change their names are a certain kind of person, don’t you think?

Yes. People who are aware of their identity. A lot of people don’t care about their identity in that way. They’re not objective about it. Also, a lot of people would never dream of it because they think it’s a disloyalty to their family. None of that ever occurred to me. Everything was just about being a glam rock guitar player, and then later it was about being a new wave guitar player… and I’ve never shut that off.

So, if you drew your new name on your books, did you also draw guitars all over everything as well?

I did, yeah. I have to restrain myself from still doing that now. [smiles] I was really into, in this order — playing the guitar, records, clothes, girls, football, and pot. Sometimes it shuffled around a bit. Sometimes all at once.

When I talk about drugs — it wasn’t really too sordid. That was part and parcel of the culture I grew up in. Everybody in my neighborhood smoked pot and took pills like loads of musicians do. Particularly working-class British musicians, I think. It was just something to do for fun. I was never one of those teens standing around the street messed up. I did have some kind of sophistication about it. It was just regular teenage stuff.

It was the lifestyle I wanted; it wasn’t random. It all seemed to make sense. In that regard I’m really the same as I was then. I see a lot of value in what I pursued. Pretty much all of that has been useful for my life as an adult.

Yes, you seem too smart to let drugs stop you from doing what you wanted to do. 

I’m also not that interested in it. I never really was. Doing something creative was always way way …way way more important. During the Smiths days — you don’t get to make that many records at that kind of speed and quality if you’re goofing off.  …On anything. You just don’t. The work always comes first for me. It’s the same with my family. We all understand, as a group, that the work comes first. I was saved by loving work, my survival instinct, and just common sense… and also a kind of decorum — I’m not into getting messy. It’s good to have a certain amount of dignity even when you’re partying.

What changed you into a healthy sort? Did you just wake up one day and say “I’m not going to smoke or drink and I’m going to run 20 miles a day?”

Kind of, but it wasn’t just one morning. It was a gradual thing in the early 2000s. It started sometime earlier when I met some hip-hop guys who used to work for the band Naughty By Nature. I asked them why, in hip-hop videos, everyone was so buff and working out all the time. In the videos, while they were singing, people were almost doing press-ups. It was explained to me that it was the idea of progressive strength and wanting to be on top of your game. Particularly because amongst urban blacks at that time there were a whole bunch of guys walking around, with brown paper bags, sucking on a 40, and then there was a reaction against that – a more pure sort of lifestyle. The idea that it’s a tough world out there and you need to have your wits about you to survive because the powers-that-be would prefer for you to be in a bad place so you need to counteract that. It made me consider that the paradigm of rock musicians is not only indulgent but kind of old-fashioned. I’d always wanted to be a rock musician and to achieve things, and I felt lucky to achieve these things I’d wanted since I was a kid, but I didn’t want to fall into some sort of cliché. I’d been seen as an archetypal rock guitarist and people liked that about me, but it seemed reductive. I didn’t want my self-image as a person to be like that. I’ve got a lot of respect for the guitar players who came before me but I felt that it was a different time and I wanted to be of my time. When I met these guys, who were around the same age as me, I thought it just sounded like an inspiring way to live and a really good way of not being a clichéd musician.

People may look back at photos or videos or some of the music I was making and wonder where I was going with that. I just didn’t want to live an obvious life and make obvious music. I had just come out of a rock band and I wanted to do everything that wasn’t the obvious path of a guitar player. I wanted the pendulum to swing really far the other way… Now it’s kind of come back.

I remember on the first Healers tour we were opening for a British rock group who will remain nameless. Their tour bus was next to ours. It was rocking with the sounds of some Beatles bootleg — very loud. Maybe there was some pot going down on our bus, but we were listening to some really interesting music. I remember Zak (Starkey – drums) said to me “They’re the ones who are straight.” We’d just been given a load of shit in the dressing room for being non-alcoholic and for all running and stuff. (We were really into psychedelics too, so it’s not like we were AA or anything.) I remember what Zak said made me feel kind of good, kind of progressive… But a lot of my friends stay up drinking and I love hanging out with them. I’ll stay up to 4 or 5 a.m. partying with them. I’m not a judgmental person.

Johnny Marr, 2012

What do you like about yourself?

I assume people are quite nice even if they’re being shitty — that there’s a reason for them being shitty. I like that about myself because it’s useful. It stops you getting too weighed down. It’s handy, though I know it sounds virtuous. I just like people. I know there are really difficult people. Some people enjoy being difficult… they really enjoy it, but snarky is not my default setting.

Do you enjoy being in showbiz — being famous, or would you rather just be a working musician?

I went through a long time in my 30s, in Electronic, when I tried to just be a pop musician while avoiding interviews, photo sessions, touring, and all that. It was interesting, but it didn’t really work. I don’t think it brought out the best in me. Bernard Sumner is an amazing friend. He had to deal with the consequences of me not wanting to tour and put on shows, etc. He’s a very patient person. It seems like a shallow way to answer your question, but I kind of thought to myself “No one wants me to be shy. If you’re going to do what you do, do it with some life and conviction.” I think it was just a phase though, because I’d been lucky enough to get attention for a number of years before that.  Sometimes it would be nice to just make really great records. I’m in the studio now in the midst of that process and that artistry, if you like, and I really believe in it. I’m very lucky.

I don’t need the attention and fame to be the person I want to be, but I’m really grateful that people are interested in me and that’s the most important thing. Despite what I’ve said, the scales really go the other way because I’ve never forgotten what it’s like to want to be heard. It doesn’t seem like it was long ago to me — not long ago at all — that feeling of wanting to connect with people through music and playing the guitar.  It was so frustrating that to complain about it now would be wrong. I’m really lucky. There are downsides — being judged and people misunderstanding you, but I get a real easy ride.  For a really long time I’ve been known more for what I play than what I say.

That’s changing.

It seems to be changing, yes.

NEXT in Part 2: Johnny talks about breaking out on Twitter, America, and the symbolism of his tattoos…..

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Official Johnny Marr

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Photos by Pat Graham

Kristeen Young

What was your childhood like?

Well, I started out in a foster home and was then adopted…..but it was the kind of adoption that was just basic needs oriented. I was kept at arms’ length and the atmosphere was pretty harsh.

I wonder why they adopted you if they weren’t going to fully embrace parenthood. 

My adoptive mother has always been a bit flighty when it comes to interests. She gets focused on something for about a year or two and then erases every trace of its existence. That’s a little difficult to do with a child. They did stop being a foster home, though.

Oh, your parents were the foster home?

Yes. So I would see kids come and go for a very short while.

Was it a religious foster home?

No, it wasn’t connected to religion…..surprisingly.  She probably saw a movie that influenced her or something.

They were very religious, right? 

YES…..extremely.

Was there a time when you embraced their religion, or did it always feel foreign to you? 

I was raised in it and extremely affected by it, so — YES.  I believed it until I was about 15 when the brain moves into the abstract reasoning phase.  (I think that’s the phase at that age). I remember the exact moment when I thought “I can’t believe this anymore and I know it’s going to be tough.”  I knew they would be even worse to me.

Was your family so religious that it was cult-like or was it just normal Protestantism? 

We were always in church. I was only allowed to do recreational events if they were church related. I wasn’t allowed to go to school dances, etc.  I wasn’t allowed to join the Brownies because it was “worldly.”  It was very Carrie‘s mother.

When you no longer believed in it did you tell them?

Yes.  I probably didn’t state it in a real straightforward way as I would have been too afraid, but she could tell by my questions.

Can you tell me about the moment you stopped believing? Was it due to some event? 

No. I was sitting in a car and it just came to me — all the contradictions that made no sense.  I just put it together all of a sudden.

Did that upset you or did you feel relieved? Or something else? 

I felt like my life would become more difficult (not going with the flow and all), but I knew I had no choice.

Were you an only child?  

Yes, I was an only child (after Mark, my foster brother was taken back by his mother).  Needless to say, but I will — I’ve always had trouble bonding with people.

What’s Missouri like? Do you feel connected to it? 

I feel emotionally connected to Missouri, but I feel very different (for some reason) than the people there. I often don’t understand their reasoning. I don’t know why I would be so different being raised there and all.

What do you do when you go back? Is there any culture going on? 

I’ve noticed a big change in the city of St. Louis. Many more art spaces in the last few years. I really like the food there, as one usually does in the place they were raised.

What kind of food?

They have pizza unique to that city. Italian food is very popular there.  It’s better than NYC’s, I think. Also, there is an ice-cream place I like where it stays open really late and people sit in the parking lot and partake like it’s the ‘50s or something.

It sounds so wholesome.

HA!  Well, it’s the murder capital as well. Mostly, I am just very emotionally inspired there. Songs attack my brain there. I don’t have to think about writing — it comes to me.

Do you remember the first lyrics you ever wrote? First song? 

I used to make things up throughout childhood. I would make stories up on the old spinet piano that was in the house — the top of the keyboard being little birds and the bottom being some sort of troll who eats them.

You made that up or… there were little birds on it? 

I would make it up. I’d tell stories using the piano to demonstrate and set the ‘mood’.

When you’re on stage you take a little breath before starting each new song and then you seem to go into a different mode within yourself. What happens inside your mind when you’re performing? 

It’s funny because people do tell me that I seem like a completely different person when I’m talking than when I’m playing and singing, but I can’t feel the difference.  Mostly, when I’m singing and playing I’m trying not to think about it because when I think about it I mess up. So, if I happen to see video of myself (which I try not to do) I am always surprised by what I see because I really don’t know what I do.

Do you get nervous before a performance? 

Maybe. I get more nervous about talking than singing. Morrissey is always encouraging me to talk more.  Hmm. I don’t know why that is……because I go see bands all the time and they rarely speak.

Has anyone in your life ever recognized themselves in your lyrics and confronted you about it?

Oh my gosh! That used to happen all the time when I lived in St. Louis. People were sure that a song was about them. It never was.  I remember one person — I had written the song before I even knew them.  If they had paused to think about timeline they would have figured it out.

What formal musical or vocal training have you had over the years and do you think it has benefitted you, or would you have been the same performer had you not had it?

I would be the same performer, but the vocal lessons I had in school have helped me maintain my voice. I haven’t damaged it because of certain things I learned — mainly vocal exercises and where not to tighten muscles (throat).

When did you have vocal lessons? In college? High school? 

I had a bit of training in both.  I went to art schools.  High school was an arts magnet school. Visual and Performing Arts.  It was very inner city though, not like Glee.

How were you chosen for that school? Did you apply and were chosen or could anyone go? 

It was mainly for weird kids to escape the horrid public schools they would be attending. I had to have an interview.  It wasn’t a pay school or anything.

I’m shocked your conservative parents were okay with you going to an arts school. 

They were okay with it because they knew the public school I had been going to had a lot of drugs and drinking going on.  Also, my mom started working in the library of the Arts School when I started going there.  There really wasn’t much “drugs and drinking” at the Arts school.  People were focused on their “craft” and everyone seemed to enjoy it there. No one really wanted to cause trouble. The teachers there actually encouraged outrageousness – storming out of classes and all — if you can imagine!  They thought it showed character. I know that seems too good to be true, but that was the school atmosphere I thrived in.  Same thing in college — I went to a school that had a reputation for being avant-garde, so they let me run wild with projects. Not surprisingly, I loved school. This was the opposite atmosphere of my home. I tried to stay at school as much as possible. This wasn’t difficult in college.  Of course, I moved out of my childhood home as soon as I turned 18. I ran away a couple of times before that.

You’ve attracted some fans who are slightly gothy. Do you identify as goth at all? 

I seem to have a way of looking at things that others sometimes think is dark.  I have dark hair.  I like to wear black… I like some of the more emotional classic goth music, but besides that I’m not sure what being goth really means.  Also, I’m a bit of a contrarian. If you book me on a goth bill, I swear to God I’ll wear white or something colorful. I don’t consciously do it, but I do it. I just can’t stand joining a group.  I always kick against…..whether I want to or not.  I’ll go in all lollipops and moonbeams, but then something turns.

“Life’s Not Short, It’s Sooo Long” is one of my favorite songs. It touches me because I read the lyrics as being about pining for a different life, wanting to be rescued from one’s circumstances, which I relate to. What were you longing for and have you found it? 

Well, that feeling goes way back and has been consistent in my life. Morrissey says it’s my life’s theme song, but I don’t know. I do know that nothing has been quick in my life and I’ve always felt imprisoned by something. When I was living at home it was home and waiting to get the hell out of there, then, as an adult, it turned into other things — waiting to be acknowledged, waiting for kindness.  I finally feel like things are starting to open up a bit for me for the first time after all this time.

That longing seems to be a common feeling among artists.  I remember when I first heard “Comfort Is Never A Goal” I thought “Yes it is! It’s time I had some comfort finally!”, but then I realized it wasn’t aimed at me. 

“Comfort Is Never A Goal” is sort of a mantra for getting through it all. And yes, artists often lose their perspective when too comfortable.

Do you collect anything? 

No, I don’t collect anything. I try to do the opposite.  I try to not be attached to anything.

You live in New York City.  Do you enjoy being a New Yorker or is it just convenient to live there if you’re a performer?  Is the music scene there important to you?

I live in New York, but I’m rarely here because of touring and when I am here I am usually working day and night in my apartment, getting ready for the next tour. Also, it’s a very transient city….so many of the friends I have made in the past are now gone. But, I do love many of the shows I’ve played in New York. Some of the Santos Party House shows (I’ve played) are on my All Time Favorite list.

You’ve said in the past that you adore Rome.  Why is it such a magical place for you? 

It’s difficult to say. It’s just the feel there. The light is golden. Everything looks too beautiful and old to be real. I love Italians — they’re so emotional and demonstrative about it. Think I got my first real standing ovation there (in Milan). I cried, of course.  I’m sure I didn’t deserve it.

Who are some of your favorite artists?

I’ve got taste that’s all over the place… and very mainstream at times. More mainstream than people usually think.  I don’t care about categories — never have.  I grew up listening to a lot of hip-hop and R&B. I didn’t really get into anything “underground” or hardcore until college. I mostly just had the radio before that.  I would buy records and my mom would throw them away as soon as I got them…., but I was allowed to listen to Christian music at home — Oh goody.  I even had to sneak the radio.  At the same time I was playing classical stuff on the piano and I was hearing a lot of jazz.  I was in a vocal jazz group in school and gospel choir.  I also liked musical soundtracks.  I like a bit of everything really.  It’s all just music to me. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes not.

Jazz?  Interesting.  Jazz forces me to vacate my compound. 

Well, most of the jazz I like is classic jazz if that makes you feel better. I like Ella Fitzgerald a lot.  I can listen to Ella all day long.

What is something you like about yourself?

The one thing I like about myself is probably the one thing that’s been my biggest problem: I can’t do anything about being me. I can’t change who I am at the core. I’ve tried. I am the big mouth who speaks out even when I don’t want to because I get this feeling in my stomach that won’t go away until I do. I am the same musically. I’ve tried to be something else.  I’m not sure who I am really…..but I truly am whatever that is.

And you like this despite the trouble it causes?

Yes, because…I think it’s rare. Most people just go along.  Most people do what’s most popular. I like people who aren’t like that — people who have a built in individuality.  I think I’m that too. At least, that’s what I surmise from the feedback I get from those around me.

What is it about old movies that you love?  …And what are some of your favorites? 

I like snappy dialogue and I like snappy clothes.  Most movies now have imbecilic dialogue and ugly clothes.  I like a lot of movies that were written by members of the Algonquin round table — “The Man Who Came to Dinner”, “Stage Door Canteen” …I can usually tell by the dialogue — I’ll look up the writers and usually it’s an Algonquin Round Table member.  I go through phases with favorites. Right now those are them.

Has this been a lifelong thing or have you only recently gotten into classic movies? 

I’ve pretty much always liked them. I’ve gotten a more thorough education as of late, but I was always attracted to “Little Rascals” and Groucho and stuff like that as a kid.  I know that some people think “Little Rascals” have some racist overtones and maybe there could be a phrase here or there, but I always noticed that all the kids played together equally (black and white kids). There never seemed to be class difference with the kids.  I think that was unusual back in the ‘30s, to show something like that on screen.

Also, I have always loved “I Love Lucy”, which again, was ahead of its time, or maybe we have been de-evolving.  To show a white woman and a Latino man married (on prime time) and having it be no big deal really, well, I think they would think twice about that now even, which is sad. I think any show that practices exclusion is horrid. This country is comprised of so many different people — it’s repulsive that only one type is constantly displayed.

That new show, “Girls” on HBO is so excellently written and so popular, but none of the main characters are non-white. It’s so strange to me.  You can say “I don’t see color”, but that’s not how non-white people see it. Believe me, they see color and they notice.  It’s easy to say “I don’t see color” when you are in the control group.

Your outfits are works of art. What kinds of things inspire you to create a new one? When you’ve retired an outfit do you store it somewhere or get rid of it?

Thank you. I have no idea what inspires me. I just get ideas.  Sometimes I’ll see something and I’ll try to copy the neckline or something or sometimes an idea just comes out of nowhere, at least consciously. Maybe I’ve seen it somewhere years ago. I don’t know.  Right now I just throw old outfits in garbage bags and throw them on a shelf or in a corner.

Do you also make your own street clothes or do you reserve your sewing talents mostly for your costumes?

I re-work a lot of street clothes. I don’t really have time to make any from scratch.

Your last two videos, “Fantastic Failure” and “I’ll Get You Back”, were shot in Missouri? How did it feel to be shooting at home? Are you a local celebrity? 

No, I’m not a local celebrity.  I’m known other places a lot more. I think the press there has issues with me that I don’t understand.  When I lived there they treated me like such a joke — making fun of me all the time.  Then, when I left and started working with artists they respect, they seemed like they resented it. I remember one time Tony Visconti guested at one of my shows there (in St. Louis).  He played bass on a couple of songs. The press said “Are we supposed to be impressed and feel privileged that she brought some big time producer to play with her.” Umm, maybe I just thought it would be a treat because so many tours skip St. Louis completely. So, I guess, YES, you were meant to enjoy it.  I learned my lesson. Never again.

It’s puzzling. In 2009, I think, Morrissey played there.  I wasn’t opening, but he complimented me (on stage) and the press reported it as being sarcastic. I mean, it was such a leap to say that it was sarcastic. That’s the old hometown. Everyone has one.  I can deal with it. There are worse things.

You’ve toured quite a bit with Morrissey. How have you changed since first meeting him? Has he influenced your work?

Oh, gosh.  I was a mess when I met him. I don’t know what he saw in me and I’m sure many feel the same way.  He’s taught me so much — how to talk to people, how to talk at all. I was always a decent writer, but I had problems with actual speaking. Also, life had been so hard for so many years — I was always on the defensive — just ready for the shit to be slung — always ready for the fight. I was a wild thing. He dealt with me in a very loving way and I became warm again. Strange how that works. Also, the validation I feel from him has changed my life. I am stronger.

Do you plan to remain a solo act or do you think you might get a band together in the future? 

I’d like to get a band together in the next phase.

You mentioned possibly having an all girl band once. Is that still something you might do? 

I like the idea of changing the live format to keep it fresh.  I would love to have that experience. Rock and Roll (whatever that is now) is still very much a male dominated field. I’m often (usually!) the only female (on the tour or in the studio, etc.)…which is fine, but I always wonder what it would be like to be in a band that’s all my own gender as that’s what men experience all the time.

Do you have any plans for after the Morrissey tour? 

I want to record a new album later this year. I’m very excited about my new material.

Can you tell me anything about your new material?

I am very confident that my new material is the best I’ve ever written. I know that artists always say this….because they want people to buy their new album,…..but in this case, it’s true. I am getting better, as a writer, with each new project. I am not deteriorating as most pop/rock artists do. I am getting better and stronger. I am learning……like an unnatural reptilian alien.

If you could travel back in time and tell your younger self one thing, when would you travel to and what would you tell yourself?

I would go back to my involvement with my first boyfriend and tell myself “Run as fast as you can away from this person.”  He was really a continuation of what my parents had done to me. He almost killed me twice — this is not a cutesy overstatement. He was abusive and suffocated me on two different occasions until I was passed-out and dying….then…..he would shake me until I was conscious again. I had such low self-esteem then. I had it in my mind that he was the only one I could relate to, but he stole a lot of my life. After him I never put up with anything that resembled abuse of any kind. I did learn. Some people don’t.

You’ve said in the past that you don’t change, but you did.  And for the better. 

Well….yes.  My behavior changed. I learned things. But I am the same person …..at the core.

(photos by Tony Visconti)

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