DE FY ING GRAVITY
CROWDED HOUSE’S NEW ALBUM, GRAVITY STAIRS, IS A LATE-CAREER TRIUMPH. BUT MAKING MUSIC SOUND SO EFFORTLESS REQUIRES AN INCREASING AMOUNT OF EFFORT NEIL FINN AND NICK SEYMOUR TELL CLASSIC POP.
Approaching five decades into a career as one of the world’s most successful and respected singer-songwriters, you might think Neil Finn would have this whole business of making music figured out by now. But no: 47 years after joining his brother Tim in New Wave art rockers Split Enz, and 39 since forming his own band, the Crowded House frontman is no closer to unravelling the cosmic mysteries of the song. Don’t imagine for a second, though, that he’s going to stop trying.
“As life goes on, it gets harder to feel the moments of inspiration are worth it – especially when physicality becomes more difficult,” reflects the laidback New Zealander when Classic Pop meets him and fellow Crowded House founder, Australian bassist Nick Seymour, at their record label’s London HQ. “It’s understandable that some people want to retreat and get their hands in the soil and be a gardener in their advancing years.
But for some reason, I feel more compelled than ever to chase that elusive mystery that is music making.”
It’s this quest that informs the title (and much of the attitude) of Crowded House’s new album – only the eighth of their stop-start career – Gravity Stairs. Though initially inspired by an actual stone staircase leading up to the Finns’ holiday home in Greece (“I’ve lugged bags up there many times,” he recalls), it’s the metaphysical ascent that is Neil’s real concern.
“The first song on the album [Magic Piano], refers to ‘the bells ringing in the temple above’,” he explains. “That’s about waiting on the promise of a great new magic tune to appear. But being aware that you actually have to climb these stairs to get to it.”
This is not a new theme in Finn’s work: a decade ago, he released a solo album called Dizzy Heights, during which he spoke about being “addicted to trying to climb the mountain”, citing his esteemed countryman
Sir Edmund Hillary as a possible inspiration.
“It does seem to be a comparatively consistent thread,” he says. “I work pretty obsessively over stuff, and Nick will probably vouch for the fact that it’s not uncommon for me to take something which we’ve worked really hard on, and has turned out really well, and go, ‘I’m going to take it apart and reassemble it again’.”
GOING THE DISTANCE
Nick, an equally youthful 65, nods his agreement. “I think, in the band, we all have a fundamental understanding of the integrity of the work process – so if Neil makes a decision to change something that shifts from that integrity, we will mention it. And he’ll take it on board. Which is great. We all respect each other’s ability to make a call on these things.
“Neil’s songs are more like working drawings when he brings them to the band,” he adds. “Then we have a very short window of a few days here and there in the studio. It can be incredibly stressful to just believe in yourself in those moments. That’s when the imposter syndrome kicks in. And then there are those moments, where you just suddenly break through the threshold...”
Today, the job of making a Crowded House album is complicated by the fact its members are scattered across four different countries: Finn is in New Zealand, Seymour lives in Ireland, keyboardist Mitchell Froom and Neil’s guitarist son Liam live in Los Angeles, while his other son, drummer Elroy, is in London. “We’re trying to be as far away from each other as possible, and we’re doing it very well,” laughs Finn. “But it does elongate the process. To the point where I said: if we do
another record, we have to commit to being in the same place for six weeks continuously.”
“The most frustrating issue is that we’re at exact opposite ends of the clock,” says Nick. “So, when
Neil’s waking up, I’m about to go to bed. I’ve had a couple of drinks, or am just really tired, and he’s just having his morning coffee.”
However imperfect the process, and however tricky the climb, Crowded House have emerged at the end of it with an album that stands among the best of their celebrated career. From the opening strains of the gorgeous Magic Piano to the dying embers of the jazzy, playfully experimental Night Song, its 11 tracks deliver the lush harmonies and deceptively effortless melodies that have helped the band shift more than 15 million records around the world, without ever sounding like they’re treading water or going through the motions.
Is it, wonders CP, time to retire that old saw about pop stars doing all their best work in their early years, and acknowledge that, of course you’re going to write some of your finest songs when you’ve actually lived a life? When you actually know stuff?
“A late flourish?” says Finn. “I don’t think it’s universally true, because some people just lose the desire early on, and fame destroys the soul that some people have for it. And almost all the people who end up having a late flourish go through a mid-career slump in notice and attention. But for the people who do make it through, there’s this feeling that they’re given another moment of regard by people. I’m banking on that,” he laughs.
As for those “effortless” melodies (which, of course, are anything but), there’s an illuminating insight into Neil’s working method on Magic Piano, in which he sings, ‘Words matter but they get in the way, when you’ve got some stories to tell/ Let the melody reign...’
“I grew up revelling in melodies – way before I got interested in lyrics,” he explains. “For me, the battle of being a songwriter is making words that don’t ruin the melody. I’m not a natural lyricist,” he adds, self-effacingly. “I didn’t start off writing poems. So ‘let the melody reign’ is sort of my manifesto.”
REACHING BEYOND WORDS
For the generation who got their musical awakening through punk, and would go on to dominate the rock press for decades, melody was often viewed as a dirty word. But Crowded House never worried about being fashionable. “I’m far more attached to the idea that the melody itself tells a story and has a transformative ability to get people through difficult times, or whatever,” says Finn. “To reach out beyond what words can do.”
And reach out they surely have: for Crowded House fans of a certain vintage, honeyed classics like Don’t Dream It’s Over (their biggest international hit, reaching No.2 on the US Billboard chart in 1987) Fall At Your Feet, Distant Sun and Weather With You (a Top 10 hit in the UK in 1992) aren’t just songs: they’re the soundtrack to their entire lives.
“It’s a huge gift that keeps on giving – that idea of being able to offer comfort and inspiration and joy to people throughout a whole lifetime,” reflects Neil. “To have people writing letters to you when they’re going through tough times... I would never take that for granted. It’s a very beautiful exchange, and I feel blessed to have it. Sometimes the strangest things become important for different reasons – the same song will get played at a funeral and a wedding.”
Alongside Finn, Seymour – a talented artist who provides most of the band’s artwork, including the Revolver-inspired Gravity Stairs cover – is the only surviving member of the Crowded House class of
“For me, the battle of being a songwriter is making words that don’t ruin the melody. So ‘let the melody reign’ is sort of my manifesto.”