6 Interview, inspiration and examples

INTERVIEW: 

Before writing the interview I had a look at some examples from other magazines, here is an article that I recently read on the NME website: 

Miles Kane has confirmed that he is working with Paul Weller on his new album. 

'It's like mod heaven, his studio' he says of his older counterpart

Rumours of a collaboration between Kane and the Modfather have circulated for some time and, in an interview between the pair which you can read in this week's issue of NME, the Last Shadow Puppets man confirmed that they would be collaborating on a track for his new LP. 

He said: We'll just see what happens when we get into that room. We're going into Paul's place and I can't wait to get in there and throw some ideas around. It's like mod heaven, his studio.

Weller also revealed why he was a fan of Kane, explaining that the singer's live performances reminded him of himself. "It's just good to see someone giving it one," he said. "So many bands are drippy, it's nice to see someone perform really, there's a lot to be said for that. So I recognised the energy in that and the commitment to what you're doing.

I also looked at an Interview from THE FLY, here is the article: 

As Graham Coxon arrives at our east London rendez-vous, En Vogue’s ‘Don’t Let Go’ is blaring out from behind the bar. In terms of entrance music, its sassy flashiness is entirely un-Coxon-like.
However, this briefly inappropriate soundtrack is nothing compared to the mortifying 3mins and 15 secs that follow. Just as we’re seated comfortably and about to ask our very first question, someone presses play on Phil fucking Daniels.
“…Confidence is a preference for the habitual voyeur of what is known as…”
Parklife? No!!! Graham?!
“How horrible,” he mumbles, grimacing. “Hooligans. Drunken bastards at the Brit Awards…” As the penny drops, the bar staff rush around in desperation trying to find the guy who works the iPod, frantically pointing in the direction of Graham and mouthing the word ‘shit’ quite a lot. But it’s too late, ‘Parklife’ continues and the evidently anxious man before us speaks with a sudden urgency, trying to block out the sounds of his own fretwork as they resound around him.
“I’m a bit sleepy. I’m finding it a bit difficult to go to sleep, my mind is whirring,” Graham begins, gently rocking. Despite now having eight solo albums under his belt and being a member of one of the biggest bands in the history of music, does this mean that the rigmarole of releasing an LP still excites him?
“I guess so, but I still feel a bit of anxiety. When a lot is happening I have to fight my tendency to run away and hide,” he shifts in his seat and shines us a self-knowing smile. “So, you know, it’s the same old thing really…”

Even after ‘Parklife’ fades out; Coxon still speaks with his arms wrapped around his body, his voice quiet and childlike. It’s a demeanour we’ve grown to adore, and this excellent new album, ‘A+E’ seems to be the best conduit for his personality to date; fidgety conversation and all. Especially next to the pastoral delicacy of its predecessor, 2009’s ‘The Spinning Top’, ‘A+E’ finds Graham sounding nothing like he has before. Abrasive, paranoid, Krautrock-flecked and fiercely fun, how did these songs arise?
“It was influenced by some touring I did in 2005 and 2006 when I was playing in clubs with my band,” he starts. “There were places which are actually under the arches of railway lines. The sound would be really loud and harsh and echoey and there were a lot of really cool-looking kids, they looked half-mods and half like robots and they had really nice haircuts,” he realises his hand’s been over his mouth for most of this sentence and shifts to talk towards the Dictaphone. “Some people were getting really drunk so they could dance and were being sick. And people were passed out, these really beautiful kids, some of them were lying on the floor swimming in god knows what. The sound was bafflingly loud and you’d hear more of the echo of the music than you did the music itself; something that coincided with how I wanted to treat the music with Ben [Hillier, who produced Blur’s ‘Think Tank’ and Graham’s ‘The Golden D’].”

Although the sounds of splatting sick are at arm’s length from ‘A+E’, the schizo-jittering (‘Advice’), burbling bass (‘The Truth’) and throbbing electronics (‘City Hall’), almost show signs of Graham turning his hand to the odd floor filler; or maybe a gawky floor shuffler.
“I’m one of those self-conscious people who needs drink before I can [dance]. I used to dance a lot to The Smiths when I was a teenager. And The Jam, I used to go to a lot of mod clubs and stuff. But as soon as I got mildly famous it just stopped, I got self-conscious. I dance at home…”
So, do they never subside, the freakouts and the fear?
“Well, I used to drink a lot,” he says slowly. “And that would be the only thing really that would stop all the mayhem in my head. The old top lip would go into a beer or something and it’d be like ‘Oh, OK!’ It’s kind of dangerous.” He readjusts: “You know this thing where you go into a void of concentration, into a zone; I guess that is when you are totally unaware of anything else. And that comes through writing, through painting, all the rest of it. Everything else disappears apart from that. It’s very temporary. I think I really used to like the feeling of being under the influence of a bottle of wine at all times – and that makes everything worse too – but being at home and watching the news with people talking about a Binge Britain culture, I suppose a lot of the album comes from that. It’s about my observations from my anxiety-ridden bubble.” Graham realises he’s squirmed away from the Dictaphone again and shuffles back, “it’s because I’m mildly embarrassed and anxious at all times, you know?” he smiles and takes a big sip on his cranberry and orange.
“It’s quite difficult.”

And Finally I looked at a Q&A interview taken from SPIN magazines website: (The interview was very long so here is an excerpt) 

He may not be Oasis' frontman — that'd be his little brother Liam — but Noel Gallagher has never been afraid to shoot off his mouth. "Ten years ago we told everyone with a mic we were the greatest thing ever," he says. "Now we just quietly believe it."

A beaming Noel Gallagher strolls across the floor of a North London photo studio enthusing about a new and exciting phase of his life, looking lean and reasonably healthy in every­bloke casualwear: blue checked shirt, jeans, and desert boots. It's not just that he has a seventh Oasis album, Dig Out Your Soul, ready for release or that he has spent a morning play­ing with his one-year-old son, Donovan, whom he describes as "an absolute diamond." It's the fact that he has started sleepwalking.

"Last night I got into bed with me missus and woke up on the middle floor of the house on the couch," he says. "Amazing! I'm 41 and I'm starting this whole new nocturnal adventure." He and his girlfriend, Sara Macdonald, were out drinking beer and tequila with British comedian Russell Brand until the early hours — Gallagher doesn't remember anything after climbing into a rickshaw in London's Soho district and being cheered through the streets. "Maybe that counts as a drunken stupor," he muses. "Is that the same as sleepwalking?"

Dig Out Your Soul sounds like you ordered in the ingredients, and all the labels on the jars read rock or more rock.

 I'm glad you said that. Yes, we wanted a rock'n'roll album...with grooves. Making records should be fun. I remember seeing Radiohead on the cover of a magazine in the U.K. whenIn Rainbows came out, and it said, radiohead: the pain. And I thought, "Won't you fucking give it a rest, you bunch of moaning children?" The pain? Of making an album? I don't buy it. If you're not having a laugh, then don't do it.

Surely the whole process wasn't all fun.

 Well, no, there was a problem on day one. I had seven songs I was putting forward. They weren't pop songs; they were bluesy. We had a meeting and I said, "Let's concentrate more on bass and guitars and have more keyboards and get some remixes done." Liam immediately had a tantrum in the studio and was dancing round saying, "No one told me we were making a fucking dance album! I'm not having this shit. We're a rock band." One day he saw some crew unloading keyboards into the studio and went mad: "What are those fucking keyboards doing in here? That's too many keyboards for a rock'n'roll band." How long has Liam been doing this? He has an irrational fear of keyboards. But this is the man who thought we had gone too dance when I wrote "Wonderwall" because the drums didn't go boom-boom bap, boom-boom-bap. Liam is very institutionalized by being in Oasis. He's been doing it for so long. Me, [guitarist] Gem [Archer], and [bassist] Andy [Bell] were helping him arrange his song "I'm Outta Time" and tried to ease him away from the clichés. But in the end, he can't resist them.

Liam told me he hates "Wonderwall." It's the one song he literally hates singing.

 That's interesting, because he would never say that to me. Well, I hate him singing it, too. Liam doesn't sound like he did ten years ago. Your voice and your body change. We've never got it right. It's too slow or too fast. I think Ryan Adams is the only person who ever got that song right. I'd love to do the Ryan Adams version, but in front of 60,000 Oasis fans that wouldn't be possible.

Liam is finally pulling his weight in the songwriting department, isn't he? He wrote three for the new album.

Yeah, he's a good songwriter. I think he regrets not starting earlier. For years I've said, "If you're so convinced you're John Lennon, then prove it."

Why don't you ever write together?

We don't see each other very often. And I like writing on my own. Me and Paul Weller first said, "Let's write a song together," in 1993, but it took 15 years for it to happen. [Gallagher and Weller cowrote "Echoes Round the Sun" for Weller's latest album, 22 Dreams.] A few times [Weller and I] made an appointment to meet at so-and-so studio at 11, and it's painful. We sit there looking blankly at each other. And then we go down to the pub. With Liam, I wouldn't know where to start.

(NOTE I LIKE THE WAY THAT THE INTERVIEWER, PROMPTS NOEL AS OPPOSED TO ASKING DIRECT QUESTIONS, ADDS AN INTERESTING CONVERSATIONAL TONE)