ALISON MOYET
In the ’80s, Alison Moyet pioneered pairing cool electronica with warm, soulful vocals in the pop group, Yazoo. A solo career of chart hits followed, until her pop flame faded. Then, in 2013 she reignited with a brilliant album of grown-up electropop; The Minutes. Now, after a massive life re-boot and another amazing album, Other she’s headed to Australia for live shows (and words with Margaret Court). She spoke to Andrew Creagh.
DNA: Hi, you sound a bit breathless! Alison Moyet: Everything’s been bonkers-fullon-crazy at the moment! I’ve just done this album but I’ve also been at college full-time. At college?
Yeah, I’m studying sculpture. It’s brilliant! I just finished my end-of-year piece and it’s off to the foundry to be turned into bronze. College, a tour, a new album; things are not
Margaret Court… she’s a bit of a wanker, by all accounts. It’s good she knows that people abhor her attitude.
slowing down you for, are they?
No, not bad for a renowned couch potato. I’m just finding myself interested in too many things and each one triggers a new thought that I want to develop.
Congrats on the new album Other. It’s much darker than The Minutes – did something terrible happened?
No, quite the contrary. For the last 30 years I lived in a big place in the suburbs – I didn’t even know my neighbours – and I decided to change my life completely. I trashed all my belongings, all my gold discs, my stage clothes and photographs – I just burned it all in the back of the garden.
No!
Yeah, it was brilliant! And we moved to Brighton, a gay hub, brilliant diversity, and I really felt for the first time like I’d found my people; where I belong.
Did that effect the writing on Other?
In the past, I’ve been looking inside my own head. In this instance, it’s more about observation and empathy. I’m walking the street and I’m watching. As a middle-aged woman, you
can become invisible. I’m very good at looking not like me when I’m on the street.
What does the Alison Moyet of Other have in common with the Alison Moyet of Yazoo’s Upstairs At Eric’s?
My otherness. Feeling “other” when you’re young can be a difficult and lonely place to be. When you get older feeling other is something to celebrate because you realise that the mainstream is not something to aspire to. I’ve always been slightly different from my peers – even down to my femaleness. In fact, being “other” is a strength?
It is. You have greater empathy for the human condition, greater wisdom, more independence, you need less approval from others. Brilliant! There’s a song on the album called The Rarest Bird and it’s about the gay and trans community here in Brighton. I love Brighton because I’m moving among young gay people who are in love and can express it without judgement… the trans community are completely free; the song goes, “In this town forget who you are and remember who you were meant to be…” It’s me saying, “Come on, we’re going out, and you are a rare bird and these are your skies.”
When you come to Australia, in Melbourne you’re playing at the Margaret Court Arena…
And she’s a bit of a wanker by all accounts! I’m a diversity role model. I’ve been playing gigs for Stonewall [UK LGBT rights organisation] and Gay Pride before they were fashionable. I didn’t even know who Margaret Court was until this happened.
It was a bit of a shock to everyone!
Isn’t it good that it’s out in the open? And that the LGBT community know how many people abhor that kind of attitude? She has no connection to the venue other than the name. I checked it out! I’ll be making it very clear that we are defiling her hall!
Beautiful Gun from the new album seems to have the lyric “there’s a gun-toting gay.” What’s that about?
[Laughs] No, it’s “gun-toting gate!” My manager, a gay woman, thought it was gay, too. No, it’s my accent. I drop all my consonants! It’s not a song about the Orlando massacre. No, but it is derisive about gun owners.
Do you write for other singers?
No, because I don’t write mainstream pop songs. As a songwriter there’s nothing that honours you more than someone else singing one of your songs. I just did a radio show where they asked me to sing a cover of a song I’d never done before and I did George Michael’s Jesus To A Child. George is our icon and completely beloved and no one really wants anyone to touch George’s songs so there’s a challenge in that. I know George would have liked it. He had asked me to go and sing with him but we never got it together. I know some of his fans would have liked it but others probably thought, “Hey, don’t shit on our doorstep.”
Have you been to Australia before?
I did one tour in 1987. I had this big band, they were all fighting with each other, it wasn’t a happy time. But this time I’m at the top of my game, gigging is what I do and I’m really excited about it.
What are people going to hear? There’s so much in your catalogue: the Yazoo hits, the solo hits, the jazz…
The jazz isn’t going to happen! I’m working with a mostly electronic pallet. You’ll get Yazoo, some stuff from Alf, from the ’90s, and The Minutes and Other. There are hits but I don’t do Invisible – I haven’t done that for 30 years, it’s just whiney! You will hear Love Resurrection and All Cried Out. There’s going to be dark, and there’s going to be euphoric. Speaking of the Yazoo songs, who was the beautiful, despairing boy who inspired your Ode To Boy?
Vincent [Clarke, Alison’s collaborator in Yazoo]. I’m an observer and always writing poetry and I was describing the strange relationship we had: we were doing this rather intimate thing of making music together but we didn’t know each other, and didn’t have time to get to know each other. How do see the role of the artist in this turbulent Trump era?
I have two thoughts on that. I always say what I think and if you follow me on Twitter you’ll see what I think about the rising right wing. I’m very happy to fight. But the thing we need to be careful about is that celebrities are given a voice that is greater than their political nous or their articulacy. I’m a liberal, I’m left thinking, and fuck it if people don’t agree with me. When I speak out it’s me as an individual not me as a performer. I need my liberal leaders to help show me the way. We need to be honest, but I need to be careful about not spurting things I know fuck all about.
Do you think your voice has changed much over time?
Yes. I’ve learned how to control my vibrato. I can make it fast or slow. I’m not as histrionic as I was when I was younger. I tend to choose a voice that suits the essence of the song rather than just showboating. If I’m writing a song that has a dead-eyed feel, I’ll sing it dead-eyed. I don’t show off for the sake of it. We can’t wait to see you and hear you live on your Australia tour.
Brilliant, because that’s what I love to do.