“If she had nothing more than her voice, she could break
your heart with it ...” a love-struck Ernest Hemingway once said about Marlene
Dietrich. Listening to Marianne Faithfull I can relate: over the phone from Paris, her familiar gravelly
tones are bruised, sexy, Joanna Lumley-posh but with a warm brandy huskiness that’s
ineffably debauched.
“I know. I've sort of somehow managed it. I've had to do a
lot of work on myself, get my self-esteem and my confidence back. And learn to
trust everything: trust life, trust the creative process. And to work with the
right people.”
The diversity of her fans is a testament to her enduring allure.
Who does Faithfull see when she looks into the audience?
“I see a great mixture and I’m very, very pleased with it.
I’m really happy that such a wide range of people come to see me. There are old
fans of my age. And then there are all sorts of other people I've picked up
along the way. And there are lots of young people – that’s what I really like.”
“I think they’re great. For a long, long time I couldn't
really appreciate them. I was only turned outwards towards what was coming, to
what I was going to do next. But now I've begun to allow myself a tiny bit of
nostalgia. I've never had a nostalgic bone in my body. But I’m allowing myself
to feel these things now.”
As a 60s “girl singer” Faithfull says she was permitted a
surprising amount of creative control.
“I was allowed a lot. I could do whatever I liked. I was
never controlled. I mean, there was I suppose the image – the “angel” image was
done by (Rolling Stones manager) Andrew Loog Oldham’s press guy. And I found
that a great weight on my back, I must say. But actually what songs we
recorded, how we did them, writing – all those things, I worked with (producer)
Mike Leander and we were able to do what we wanted. Nobody was controlled.”
“I think that’s not really fair, but I used to think that
myself – I think people got it from me. I think I did express a lot in my early work. But it seemed so unreal, when
the 60s were over and I was back living with my mother looking after (her son)
Nicholas with no money. It almost felt like nothing had happened. And they were
also very overwhelmed by The Stones, my little records. I think I felt that –
it didn't seem like important work. I was very, very hard on myself.”
After her romance with Jagger imploded Faithfull’s life
unraveled into heroin addiction, alcoholism and extreme poverty. I hadn't
intended to mention drugs, but Faithfull herself brings it up: when I mention
she has a new film due out in 2012 (Faithfull has been acting almost as long as
she’s been singing and has an interesting if erratic film career: she’s worked
with everyone from auteurs like Jean-Luc
Godard and Kenneth Anger to schlock-meister Michael Winner) she talks ruefully
about missed opportunities.
“It took me a long
time to really get it together,” she admits. “Look, my big problem was taking
drugs. It put me back. It didn't help me in my work at all. I lost confidence.
I lost tranquility. Which are very important: with making records and acting I
have to work from a sense of relaxation and not striving and not worrying about
it. And that’s where drugs were very bad for me. It handicapped me.”
“I’m so lucky in my life and I know it, that my life worked
out so well. I felt a lot of compassion for Nico, that she had such a hard
time. Obviously a lot of that was to do with drugs, too. If you take a
difficult life anyway and then add that, it’ll get much worse. I just felt it was
very tragic story and I felt a lot of love for Nico. I think she tried really hard. She did make a
couple of great records – I love The
Marble Index. I value her a lot, and I don’t think she was really valued in
her lifetime.”
/ Naked Under Leather: Faithfull photographed by Helmut Newton around the time of
Broken English (1979) /
Faithfull’s wilderness years ended in the punk era, with
Broken English. Lauded by Camille Paglia as “one of the most
important works ever produced by a woman,” the album was a raw wound, launching
a radically different Marianne Faithfull: an embittered punk harridan in black
leather, rasping outbursts of bile in a guttural nicotine-stained croak. It still casts a shadow: with the release of
every new CD, a critic inevitably says, “Her best since
Broken English.” Is she sick to death of hearing that?
“Well, yes and no. I don’t really mind. I understand. What I
don’t understand is why when they do those “100 Greatest Records of All Time
“lists, they don’t put Broken English
in. I find that odd. It doesn't really matter. I love Broken English but obviously what I would prefer is that people
would go with me in my work. They've all got something really special, my
records. I love Vagabond Ways, I love
Kissin’ Time, I love Before the Poison. I love my late Island
records. I think they were very good. But I hadn't found my way yet – I was
still looking.”
/ Faithfull's 1979 collaboration with visionary avant garde filmmaker Derek Jarman on three songs from her Broken English album /
There’s a sense of autobiographical progression with Faithfull’s
body of work. Surveying her discography is like watching her life unfold,
giving the listener an insight into where she is now.
“That’s what I want. So that we can all move together. My
fans do go with me, and it’s fascinating. I read about it, I check what they
think on Facebook and Myspace. I like to see their notes and their comments.
They do keep up with me; they do exactly what you said. They take it as
information about where I’m at now. And this new record is very much about
that. It’s not a sad record at all. Yes, there are some serious songs: “Goin’
Back” is quite moving. “Past, Present and Future” (her unexpected cover of the
Shangri-Las' song) is really funny. I don’t think it’s a sad record at all.”
Just as vital as Broken
English was 1987’s Strange Weather, which
Faithfull says “positioned me in a
way that I could have a long career.” Recorded after Faithfull finally kicked
heroin, the album offered downbeat versions of vintage blues and jazz laments
and established her as a smoky-voiced interpretive singer. Like the best
melancholic music (think Chet Baker, Billie Holiday’s Lady in Satin), the album’s bleakness goes beyond depressing to
become healing, a release.
“It’s like
the blues,” Faithfull agrees. “You listen to the blues and you feel better.
That’s my feeling about it. Sad songs can help one to feel better."
/ Mary Magdalene of rock: from the album cover photo session for 1987's
Strange Weather /
By the time Faithfull applied the scorched ruins of her voice
to the Kurt Weill songbook (
20th
Century Blues in 1996) she was confidently evoking great mid-century torch
singers like Edith Piaf, Billie Holiday and
Marlene Dietrich: think of the ravaged tragedienne
of a certain age in a black dress,
smoking a cigarette onstage. “That’s really where I’m coming from,” Faithfull
concurs. “I’m not trying to sound
pretty,
anyway!”
Another turning point was writing her unapologetic autobiography
Faithfull in 1994.
“I think it helped me. I think the autobiography gave me
more self-esteem for myself. It made it all real for me: my life became more
real to me. That was a good thing. It was very hard work. David (Dalton) and I
re-wrote it three times to get it right. And I didn't feel it as cathartic at
the time, but I've realised since that it actually was cathartic.”
The most romantic song on Horses ... is “Prussian Blue. “ It’s a love song, but about a city
rather than a man: Paris, where Faithfull is now based. The French have
embraced her as one of their own.
“I remember when I first started going to Paris in the 60s
as a little pop singer. They really liked me, they loved my work and I remember
thinking, I think when I’m older I’ll come and move here. There are various
levels to that song. One of my ideas was to write a song about colours – oil
paints, because they've got such beautiful names. But obviously that wasn't
enough; it had to have real emotional content too, so I talked about where I go
for my AA meetings, which is an important part of my week”.
I propose to her that Parisians probably appreciate
Faithfull as a present-day Juliette Greco or Jeanne Moreau. And her 1960s
contemporaries in Paris, Jane Birkin and Francoise Hardy, are both still active
and recording interesting music.
“They've got more of a tradition of this kind of artist,
yes. In fact I consciously took Jeanne Moreau and Catherine Deneuve as life
models, not in terms of singing – just a way of being. They’re comfortable in
their skin as women. It doesn't matter, getting old – they still work.”
It’s gratifying to see Faithfull enjoying her hard-won
serenity, and be able to draw on her volatile past without being destroyed by
it. Faithfull specialises in tragic songs, but her life stopped being tragic a
long time ago.
“Oh, ages ago,” she purrs. “I’m really well, I’m really
happy. I love my work. I wouldn't do it if I didn't.”
Asked about the future,
she cites
doyenne of French
chanson Juliette Greco as an
inspiration: still recording, still touring, still vital in her 80s. And she’s already working on a new song to be
called “Give My Love to London.”
Still, there’s something reassuring that Faithfull still describes
herself as a very decadent person, even without drugs.
“I think it’s an attitude, a thing that you’re drawn to. I
don’t have to live it out, I don’t have to act it out or do anything that is decadent, actually – and I don’t. But
I’m still like that, in my heart.”
(The Full Interview Transcript):
On the new album you sing a great version of a song I
associate with Dusty Springfield, “Goin’ Back.”
Yes, that’s the great definitive version.
It’s strange to remember in some ways your peers really are
Lulu, Petula Clark, Cilla Black but in some ways you come from a totally
different planet to where they’re from.
I guess what I’m doing is very different, yeah.
Your longevity / adaptability: you embraced punk in the 70s
whereas a lot of your 60s peers would have felt alienated / threatened by it.
I loved it. It was very like that, really, in the early
60s. That anyone could do anything, and
it could work. It’s not like that now, of course.
In real terms your contemporaries are more like Patti Smith
and Nico – who you've written a song about.
Yes. On the slightly more art-y side of the equation.
(Laughs).
There’s been a lot of variety in your music over the years,
but you’re best known for sad songs. People say sad music is depressing, but
when it’s done right it can be healing and cathartic and a release. What’s your
philosophy about sad music?
Actually I have very strong views. It’s like the blues: you listen to the blues
and you feel better. So that’s my feeling about it. Sad songs can help one to
feel better.
You and your music tap into the tradition of great
mid-century female singers like Dietrich, Piaf and Billie Holiday. What do
those singers represent to you?
That’s really where I’m coming from, I think. I started
listening to Billie Holiday when I was quite young, when I came up to London. I
got into Billie Holiday and I've been into her ever since. And Piaf too, when I
really liked when I was young. I didn't discover Lotte Lenya til later, but I
realised that was very much where I was coming from.
It’s funny listening to your album of Kurt Weill songs: you
obviously don’t have a German accent, but when you sing those songs your voice
has a Germanic quality, like Lotte Lenya or Hildegard Knef.
Yes. I’m not trying to sound pretty, anyway!
/ Faithfull hauntingly re-visiting her career-making first hit "As Tears Go By" on her 1987 album Strange Weather /
As time goes on you realise what a key album Strange Weather
is for you, as much as Broken English – it re-established you in a different
way.
Yes and I've been able to work with that ever since. I think
they were both very important. Broken English I cannot underestimate at all, it
was crucial. But Strange Weather positioned me in a way that I could have a
long career.
It definitely established you as a great interpretive
singer. I’m wondering what you look for in a song? What do you respond to in a
song, or what’s your criteria?
It’s a mixture, I think: the tune is very important but I
think in the end it’s the words.
You can take someone else’s song and make it sound completely
autobiographical
I always thought everybody could do that, but I realised
that doesn't always work out! No.
One of my favourite songs on the album is “Prussian Blue”,
which is about your life in Paris today. Tell me about your life in Paris. I've
read that they've really embraced you there, and your CDs sell well there.
Yeah, they do. In fact they always have. I remember when I
first started going to Paris in the 60s as a little pop singer. They really
liked me, they loved my work and I remember thinking, I think when I’m older
I’ll come and move here.
It’s a very romantic song.
There are various levels to it. One of my ideas was to write
a song about colours – oil paints, because they've got such beautiful names. We
had a really beautiful summer here last year, it was absolutely gorgeous and
the colours were amazing. So I was able to, with Dave Courts, we sat down and I
said my idea and we started to write. But obviously that wasn't enough, it had
to have real emotional content too. So I talked about where I go for my AA
meetings. That’s what that is about -- which is an important part of my week.
I’m sure the French see you as a present-day Juliette Greco type
or Jeanne Moreau type.
They've got more of a tradition of this kind of artist, yes.
In fact I consciously took Jeanne Moreau and Catherine Deneuve as life models,
not in terms of singing – just a way of being. They’re comfortable in their
skin as women. It doesn't matter getting old – they still work.
/ Doyenne of French chanson Juliette Greco in 2009 /
Your contemporaries in Paris are Jane Birkin and Francoise
Hardy. They’re both still active and recording interesting music, too.
Yes they are. And I know Francoise. I see her for dinner and
we talk about it all. It’s great. And I know Jane, of course, too.
What’s your relationship to your 60s recordings now? How do
you look back on them?
I think they’re great. For a long, long time I couldn't
really appreciate them. I was only turned outwards towards what was coming, to
what I was going to do next. But now I've begun to allow myself a tiny bit of
nostalgia. I've never had a nostalgic bone in my body. But I’m allowing myself
to feel these things now.
The argument you didn't express yourself truly until Broken
English – which does a disservice to your earlier work, and I wonder if you
think that’s fair.
I think that’s not really fair, but I used to think that
myself – I think people got it from me. I think I did express a lot in my early
work. But it seemed so unreal, when the 60s were over and I was back living
with my mother looking after Nicholas with no money. It almost felt like
nothing had happened. And they were also very overwhelmed by The Stones, my
little records. I think I felt that – that it wasn't really important work. I
was very, very hard on myself. I really was.
As a “girl pop singer” in the 60s, how much creative input
or control were you allowed?
I was allowed a lot. I could do whatever I liked. I was never
controlled. I mean, there was I suppose the image – the “angel” image was done
by Andrew Loog Oldham’s press guy. And I found that a great weight on my back,
I must say. But actually what songs I recorded, how we did them, writing – all
those things, I worked with Mike Leander and we were able to do what we wanted.
Nobody was controlled.
It’s funny to think that it was your song “Come Stay with Me” – without that song there might not have been The Smiths!
That’s quite serious, isn't it? That would have been
terrible. (Morrissey has declared Faithfull was his first pop crush: the first record he ever bought was Faithfull's 1965 single "Come Stay with Me" aged six. In 2009 Morrissey selected it as one of his Desert Island Discs).
/ Heroin-ravaged: Faithfull around the time of
Broken English /
With every new CD you put out a critic inevitably says, “Her
best since Broken English.” You must be sick to death of hearing that
Well, yes and no. I don’t really mind. I understand. What I
don’t understand is why when they do those “100 Greatest Records of All Time" lists,
they don’t put Broken English in. I found that odd.
/ The Billie Holiday / Marlene Dietrich of punk: Faithfull circa Broken English /
Well, lack of imagination. These things are so rigid, so
conventional. But it belongs there!
I know, I know. I know it does. Yes, you’re right.
Conventional pop music is very rigid. Hidebound. It doesn't really matter. I
love Broken English but obviously what I would prefer is that people could go
with me in my work. They've all got something really special, my records. I
love Vagabond Ways, I love Kissin’ Time, I love Before the Poison. I love my
late Island records. I think they were very good. But I hadn't found my way yet
– I was still looking.
/ Faithfull photographed by
Ellen von Unwerth for
Vagabond Ways (1999) /
There’s a sense of progression with your body of work. Listening
to each new album over the years is like watching your life unfold and gives
the listener an insight into where you are now.
That’s what I want. So that we can all move together. My
fans do go with me, and it’s fascinating. I read about it, I check what they
think on Facebook and Myspace. I’m not a member of Facebook, only in a
professional sense. But I like to see their notes and their comments. They do keep
up with me; they do exactly what you said. They take it as information about
where I’m at now. And this new record is very much about that.
We all love the sad quality of your music, but it is a very
positive record. Even the break-up song (“Why Did We Have to Part?”) has got a
lot of acceptance and reflection in it.
It’s not a sad record at all. Yes, there are some serious
songs: “Goin’ Back” is quite moving. “Past present and future” is really not
that serious. It’s really funny. I don’t think it’s a sad record at all.
I’ll definitely mention in the article that you've also got
a new film due out in 2012: you've been acting almost as long as you've been
singing. How do you look back on your film career as an actress?
It took me a long time to really get it together. You know,
in some ways ... Look, my big problem was taking drugs. It put me back. It
didn't help me in my work at all. I lost confidence. I lost tranquility. I
didn't have those things. Which are very important: with making records and
acting I have to work from a sense of relaxation and not striving and not
worrying about it. And that’s where drugs were very bad for me. It handicapped
me.
/ In 1973 David Bowie plucked a down-on-her-luck and troubled
Faithfull to guest on his TV special
The 1980 Floor Show. The
clip of them duetting
on a dissolute version of Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You Babe” (with a frankly wasted Faithfull
clad in a nun’s habit!) is justifiably famous but I like this obscure one more:
a seemingly heavily medicated and barely keeping it together Faithfull huskily channelling
Marlene Dietrich. She wouldn’t properly
re-surface again until
Broken English six years later /
You've said you’re able to look back now at the film Girl on aMotorcycle with affection...
Oh yeah. I had no idea it was going to become such a cult
movie, that people would still like it so many years after. I didn't really
like it at the time; I thought it was a bit stupid. But I loved Jack Cardiff
and I was very grateful to Jack Cardiff for making me look so beautiful. He
really did. I mean, the lighting – the whole thing is just gorgeous. So I’m very grateful for that, that one day
I’m able to look back at Girl on a Motorbike (sic) and say, Wow! That wasn't too bad.
And also, I think one of the most lovely things about Girl on a Motorbike (sic) is,
do you know where it’s most popular? In India! I saw it myself, the first time
I saw it was in Delhi, in Hindi. And it was absolutely great, but what was
really great was how much the Indian audience loved it. And even now on the net
there are articles – long, evaluating articles about this film. I’m delighted!
/ Alain Delon and Faithfull sharing a post-coital cigarette in the campy sexploitation film Girl on a Motorcycle (1968) /
I've been going to your gigs for about twenty years now and
I've seen the diverse crowd that you attract. I’m wondering, from your
perspective when you look out into the audience who do you see?
I see a great mixture and I’m very, very pleased with it.
I’m really happy that such a wide range of people come to see me. There are old
fans of my age. And then there are all sorts of other people that I've picked
up along the way. And there are lots of young people – that’s what I really
like.
What do you think is your secret for keeping people fascinated
for 47 years? Other artists would kill for that ability that you have.
I know. And I've sort of somehow managed it. But it was a
lot of work. I've had to do a lot of work on myself, get my self-esteem and my
confidence back. I've had to work hard at that. And learn to trust everything:
trust life, trust the creative process. And to work with the right people. With
Hal, I can work really well.
Speaking of (producer) Hal Willner, your albums in recent
years have been characterised by collaborations with other artists. What do you
look for in a collaborator?
A lot of the people I've worked with have become friends.
Not everybody, but Nick Cave and Rufus Wainwright. And Jenni, for instance.
Jenni Muldaur I first worked with on
Easy Come, Easy Go. She’s on this new
record, too – she’s on
Horses and High Heels. And her work is absolutely
sterling, and she’s become a friend. To be honest with you, I think it’s Hal
that likes that more than anything. He’s got a great love of using other people
on a song. And it’s a very good idea with the limitations of my voice. My voice
has got its own sound, and sometimes it does need lightening up or making more
intense or something. On
Horses and High Heels I've worked very, very hard on
my voice, and I think I’m quite pleased with it. And of course I do have Jenni.
So we don’t have any other star singers on the record as such, but of course we
do have great musicians. And one of the things I thought I would tell you is
that for this tour, and for the show in London and in Brighton and in
Manchester, I am coming with Wayne Kramer
(of The MC5)! Wayne Kramer and Doug Pettibone will
be my guitarists. So that will be interesting. I think it will be quite
dazzling!
I definitely want to make the point that you are incredibly
good at making tragic music, but your life stopped being tragic quite a long
time ago.
Oh, ages ago. No my life is going along in a very – and has
been for years. I’m really well, I’m really happy. I love my work. I wouldn't
do it if I didn't. Even the bit where I’m talking about myself all the time to
journalists, I've learned to accept it as part of my job. And quite enjoy it,
actually. Everybody’s different. It’s not always the same. It’s interesting.
The new album was recorded in New Orleans. Do you think it
influenced the sound or the atmosphere of the record?
I think it did, yes. It’s such a musical city. And the band
was so good, the musicians in New Orleans are so good. Including the wonderful
John Porter, who is English but has been living in New Orleans for ages now,
and he’s a very old friend of mine from the 70s. And it was fantastic to find
John Porter in New Orleans, and I used him on all my own songs (her four
original compositions). He really pulled them together. He worked with Eric
Clapton and The Smiths – and someone else, I can’t remember who, but those were
the two main ones. He’s been a record producer for years. But he is a fantastic
guitarist – and it’s his guitar, as well as Don’s of course (?) but a lot of
John Porter on those songs of mine.
/ Song for Nico: Nico (1938-1988) photographed in 1980 /
We mentioned Nico earlier. There are so many parallels
between her life and your life. What prompted you to write song about Nico?
(“Song for Nico” in 2002).
Well, I’m so lucky in my life and I know it, that my life
worked out so well. And I felt a lot of compassion for Nico, that she had such
a hard time. Obviously a lot of that was to do with drugs, too. If you take a
difficult life anyway and then add that, it’ll get much worse. I just felt it
was very tragic story and I felt a lot of love for Nico. I think she tried really hard. She did make a
couple of great records – I love The Marble Index (1969). I value her a lot, and I
don’t think she was really valued in her lifetime.
Someone else I know who has influenced you, and you've
written about beautifully, is Juliette Greco.
Oh yeah. She’s a great inspiration of mine. You know she’s
in her 80s and still performing.
I just saw her a few months ago at The Royal Festival Hall.
Oh how was it?
It was spectacular. It had been ten years since she last
came to London, and I was at that gig and to see her again -- I cried about
four times!
Oh, darling. There’s something very special about that.
I've read that Lou Reed makes a guest appearance on the
album. What songs does he play on?
The most wonderful bit is his solo on “The Old House” -- amazing.
And he also plays on “Back in Baby’s Arms.”
Obviously over the years your music has been very varied,
but it’s always been very dramatic and has a confessional quality.
I think that’s my relationship to the public. It’s not
exactly confessional, but it’s always “Well, now let me tell you about the past
... “It’s a sort of closeness, I feel, where I open up. Which I don’t do
normally.
The album I really discovered you through, when I was about
16 or 17, was A Child’s Adventure (1983).
/ Publicity photo of Faithfull for her despairing 1983
A Child's Adventure album:
every song seemingly concerns drug addiction, alcoholism and suicide /
Ah, yes.
Which is one of your bleakest album but it’s still one of my
favourites.
It was the album where I was beginning to ask for help, in a
way. And it wasn't well recorded and what I would love to do is go back and
re-do it and re-master it and really make it sound better. It could sound so
much better and richer. But I haven’t had a chance to do that yet.
You've always played “Falling from Grace” and “Times Square”
from that album at almost every concert, those songs are timeless.
“Times Square” I
particularly love. We’re not doing “Falling from the Grace” at the moment, but
maybe I will. We've dropped it. There’s so many new songs, you know.
The first time I ever saw you perform was at (punk club) Les Foufounes Électriques in
Montreal.
Oh, that was a great gig!
It was just you and (guitarist and frequent collaborator) Barry Reynolds. Accoustic.
I remember it well. I've had a few experiences like that –
where the audience was expecting a completely different person ...
What do you think they’re expecting?
I don’t know. A sort of sex bomb, really! In those days,
anyway. A sort of Pat Benatar. Of course Pat Benatar copied my style. And my
riffs, too! And it was so different. I was still in formation, then. I was
learning my way about it. And I found I had this gift for doing it with just
one musician. I still go out and do acoustic tours. It’s good – it’s like open
heart surgery.
Well, your roots are in folk music anyway.
Yes, they were always. And that was what was so nice to
re-visit on Easy Come, Easy Go, was folk. I loved it. But of course this
record, Horses and High Heels, is really not a folk record. It’s very much a
rock and roll band.
You've said even without drugs, you’re still a very decadent
person. What do you mean by that?
I think it’s an attitude, a thing that you’re drawn to. I
don’t have to live it out, I don’t have to act it out or do anything that is
decadent, actually – and I don’t. But I’m still like that, in my heart.
Glad to hear it. I hope that never changes
No, I don’t think it ever will.
/ A real curiosity: Two of my heroes, Serge Gainsbourg and Marianne Faithfull – ensemble! These two pretty much wrote the book on decadence. In this strange mini-documentary, we see a chain-smoking Gainsbourg directing Faithfull in a pop video for the song “Intrigue” from her 1981 album Dangerous Acquaintances /
One of my favourite albums of yours is A Secret Life (1995).
I love that.
/ From the photo session for the album cover of 1995's eerie and underrated
A Secret Life /
You and (Angelo) Badalamenti (David Lynch's soundtrack composer) together. It’s just exquisite.
It’s fabulous, yes. And that was never recognised at the
time. I think people really do like it. I have a lot of friends who really like
that.
I guess one of the nice things about having such a long
career is seeing things get reappraised over time.
Yes, and it’s particularly started recently. In between
Before the Poison (2005) and Easy Come, Easy Go (2008). And now I've really set it up well.
Usually I take much longer to make another record. But we did this quite fast,
and I think Horses and High Heels will benefit from that, the critical
response.
I can see how, when your autobiography came out, it seemed
to change the perception of you in the UK. Your profile became higher, you
started recording more frequently.
I think it helped me. I think the autobiography gave me more
self-esteem for myself. It made it all real for me: my life became more real to
me. And that was a good thing. Of course it was very hard work. (Co-author) David (Dalton)
and I re-wrote it three times to get it right. And I didn't feel it as
cathartic at the time, but I have since. I've realised since that it actually
was cathartic.
/ Faithfull photographed by Bruce Weber in the 1990s /
"Past, Present and Future" such a strange, surprising choice:
one of the new album’s highlights
Well, it was Hal’s idea – it’s a typical, it’s a real Hal brilliant
idea. I knew that song; I remember hearing it in ’62, before I started my work
as a pop singer. I was in my bed after school late at night listening to Radio
Luxembourg and I heard it then and I loved it. I always have loved it. And I
really like Phil Spector. I think he’s a genius. I know he leaves a lot to be
desired as a human being, but he still is a genius. And most geniuses leave a
lot to be desired as a human being. I really wanted to do a Phil Spector song,
to sort of honour him in a way. It was just such an interesting idea, to come
at that, which is a song of teen angst, definitely, and to do it as a woman of
my age. It gives it a completely different feel. And I love doing things like
that.
(Note: in fact "Past, Present and Future" and all the Shangri-Las' hits were produced by Shadow Morton, not Phil Spector)
In a way, that song is a way of you taking a sideways look
at the 1960s and your past.
Yeah. “Well now, let me tell you about the past ...”
I love your 20th Century Blues (1996) album: What was it
about Kurt Weill’s music that you identified with?
It was just perfect for me. It was that which got me really on
my path, I think. Making 20th Century Blues and The Seven Deadly
Sins was so good for me and helpful for everything about me. I felt that I’d
found my place. I think, with my background and my Jewish grandmother and all
that, I have a racial memory of this kind of music. Kurt Weill wrote a lot out
of the Jewish scale, you know, in the temple. That’s particularly interesting
about his music. It was a fantastic experience to go around the world with
(pianist) Paul Trueblood and do that show. I did a lot; I did an 11-month tour
on that. (Her “An Evening in the Weimar Republic” tour).
What does the future hold, artistically?
I would like to use Juliette Greco as a model. I suppose
I’ll just go on. I don’t know exactly what I’ll do next; it’s too early to
think about it. But what I've decided to do is just write songs anyway. When I
see Doug – we start the next tour at the Hong Kong Festival. When I get to Hong
Kong, I've got an idea for a song about London. I want to write a song called
“Give My Love to London.” And I’m going to do it with Doug when we get
together. And keep doing that, so when it gets to 2013 when it’s about the time
for another record I’ll have a back-up of songs. Because I was disappointed I
only wrote four. I would have liked to write more. But I need to start work
early for that.
/ Portrait of a punk diva: Faithfull in 1979 from the photo session by Dennis Morris for the Broken English cover /
