Bearded FFP. B
Features The Fiery Furnaces
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Both are happy with their peripatetic existence: “We’re like gypsies, they make up words and travel as well; they have lots of slang… it’s like the rock’n’roll lifestyle,” says Matt. Appropriately enough, our interview takes place largely on the hoof as the pair have a plane to catch. We start in the lobby and continue in the taxi, before taping further segments on the tube, the check-in queue and at a Heathrow coffee bar. They graciously apologise for this - but given the nature of their music, it’s strangely appropriate. The band reckon this album is the most conventional they’ve done, though this is a relative term. Matt says: “It’s nice to mess around with pop. But hopefully it’s done in a skilful way, as opposed to a crassly manipulative way. And a lot of it is still in the digressive style of our other records. The second, third and fourth songs are really one song…” Eleanor claims some of the influences as “Led Zeppelin, Brian Eno [in his postRoxy Music, song-based days], Van Morrison…” But they’re still as playful as ever. “‘Navy Nurse’ isn’t supposed to be enjoyable in the same way as ‘The Ocean Song’ by Led Zep. It’s supposed to make you smirk!” says Matt. Widow City is the band’s first record on Chicago’s Thrill Jockey label, home to the likes of Giant Sand, Mouse on Mars, ex-Television legend Tom Verlaine and post-rock demigods Tortoise. In fact, it was thanks to Tortoise that the album turned out like it did. “[Thrill Jockey] liked the record the best, so we chose them.” says Matt. “Tortoise’s next record had been pushed back, so John McEntire had some free time and he produced us.” Was working with Thrill Jockey a bit like coming home? “It’s nice sentimentally to be on a label from the south side of Chicago. It’s also the home of rock’n’roll ’cos of the Muddy Waters and Chuck Berry records in the ’50s. Memphis has its claims as well, but as far as I’m concerned…” Much like their producer, the siblings were determined to make a record that sounded like nothing they’d done before. “You can’t make the same record twice - unless you’ve got one great idea, in which case you just keep making that record.” claims Matt. “We don’t have that, so the best thing is to keep changing your materials.” Anything to keep boredom away, says Eleanor: “We’re not a gang, like other bands. So we have to keep ourselves amused.”
Amazingly, after the best part of a decade making music together, Matt and Eleanor seem to be getting on better than ever. This forbearance isn’t extended to the plague of MOR ‘indie’ currently clogging up the TV screens, airways and stadiums on both side of the Atlantic. Their current term of abuse is “zombie Prozac rock”. But they switch into gushy mode when talking about their tourmates last year, experimental popsters Deerhoof. Eleanor says, “We both think they’re the best band playing right now. I like the records but live they’re something else.” While the Furnaces’ music is pretty special, for this listener it’s their lyrics that really set them apart. They swing from relatively straightforward narratives to dense wordplay that reveals a deep love for language, with echoes of James Joyce and Dylan Thomas. How could you fail to love songs entitled ‘Rub Alcohol Blues’, ‘The Vietnamese Telephone Ministry’ or ‘A Candymaker’s Knife in my Handbag’? Bitter Tea’s lyrics avoided the usual rock’n’roll preoccupations in favour of Mormons, mobile phones, gypsy women, whiskey and made-up words. And the new album is just as skittish. The band, known for their tongue-in-cheek liner notes, claim that Widow City’s lyrics were inspired in part by “by means of a method derived from the Baccalieri childrens’ use of a Ouija board in season four of The Sopranos”! Not to mention Eleanor’s communing with the spirits of “selected lady magazine authoresses from the years 1968-1976”… Sadly, check-in time approached and we were forced to conclude our chat. Our freewheeling conversation had also touched on West London’s high rock’n’roll factor (Matt is a huge Who fan, and loves the Clash’s White Man in Hammersmith Palais); and the increasing prevalence of CCTV cameras in London nowadays (though Eleanor is glad they inspired ace indie flick Red Road). Eleanor also explained why she goes through life holding her nose (“I live next to the East River, the most polluted stretch of river in America. I also live near a sewage treatment plant. Luckily there are special nose-plugs you can buy”) and how she got arrested for trespassing aged 15. But that’s another story… Speaking to The Fiery Furnaces is like listening to their music. Both have a tendency to go off on tangents… but encountering them is a pleasure, and even if it’s hard keeping up sometimes, you’re glad you made the effort.