JOHN FOXX
TRASH AND TREASURE
by Scott McLennan
With a history that includes formative years in 1970s synth act Tiger Lily soundtracking a porno, a brief flirtation with the mainstream as a founding member of Ultravox and plaudits from current chart favourites such as Klaxons, English musician John Foxx’s evolving roles on the musical periphery have seen him cross paths with eclectic cultural identities including film-maker Michaelangelo Antonioni, Nick Cave and Brian Eno.
Currently enjoying a critical reappraisal of his early electronic works, John has also recently released his new album with Louis Gordon, From Trash. About to tour Australia, the artist offered considered and fascinating answers to Rip It Up’s questioning.
Tiger Lily’s 1975 single Ain’t Misbehavin’ was apparently written for an X-rated film – what do you remember of the film?
“It was Chaplin-era porn,” John begins. “Jerky film movements amplified the absurdity. Most of the film industry had offices and studios in Soho, where we tended to hang out in those days, playing occasionally at the Marquee in Wardour Street. We needed some money urgently - to buy Billy [Currie] a keyboard.”
Brian Eno produced Ultravox’s eponymous 1977 album. I’m wondering if he was he still finding his feet as a producer and learnt as much from you as you from him?
“Well, we came at things from different angles, while having a few things in common. We also had [acclaimed producer Steve] Lillywhite in the gang, who was also kicking off as an engineer and proto-producer. Involvement with that project got him well on his way – he did Siouxie and Psychedelic Furs very quickly after.
“Brian was still a bit sore after the bounce from Roxy [Music] but he was quietly determined – we all admired that, as well as his capacity for concentration and attention to a single moment. We were much more inclined to produce an undefined wall of sound at that point. He focused down on things very well. Enjoyed using the Oblique Tea Leaves [to incite musical creativity]. We all liked the concept of studio as vehicle, as instrument. Brian was pilot, we were navigating.
“He liked Tomorrow Never Knows by The Beatles and this is one of my pivotal tracks too – it had all the ingredients for future music – first drum loop, first drone chant, first backwards, first random samples, et cetera - the future in four minutes. Lots of Iggy Pop too, as well as the Obscure label stuff he was producing at that time – and [Erik] Satie.
“We both liked the New York scene, the Velvets and Warhol plus the new lot - Television, the Ramones and Patti Smith. Then there were the writers – [William S] Burroughs and [JG] Ballard and [Marshall] McLuhan. We were somehow attempting to pull elements of all that stuff together with a firm native loyalty to clodhopping Britpunk and glam. Quite loony when you think about it now.
“While Brian had been immersed in Roxy, London punk had kicked off, so I think he was also pleased to reconnect informally with that generation. I guess it did us both a power of mutual good. We were all a bit further on after that. Bowie rang Brian during the sessions, so then he was off on his adventures. We went off to Germany to find out where the scientists lived.”
As a fellow art student how well did you get on with Brian away from the studio?
“There was a sort of loose nebulae of people around London at that time, supporting each other’s exhibitions and performances. Brian would come over to informal concerts we played in a church in Vauxhall. I remember he brought Harold Budd and Terence Stamp one afternoon. My friend Russel Mills was working with him at that point, so we often coincided over the years – I used to borrow Brian’s videos when I gave lectures at art schools. He used my studio, I contributed work for War Child, that kind of thing. He was always a very pleasant, well conducted, significant presence.”
You released three albums in 16 months between 1977 and 1978 – how did you keep up a work-rate back then that shames most artists today?
“Things moved faster then. An album in three weeks flat or forget it. Mind you, Louis and I still work like that. No neurosis.”
According to the Q Encyclopaedia Of Rock, Midge Ure replaced you as the lead singer of Ultravox less than a month after you announced your decision to move on.
“Actually it wasn’t that quick – at least a year. I was long gone by then. Gave my final notice in San Francisco 1978 or 1979 on the final gig of the US tour. Gave the band the Ultravox name at the same time, then back to London to work on [1980’s solo debut] Metamatic. It was completely up to them what happened after that. I think they chose very well – Midge got them precisely where they wanted to go. Everyone was happy.”
Dark pop legends such as The Cure, Depeche Mode and Nick Cave all recorded in your studio, The Garden. How much hands-on involvement did you have with these acts when they came by?
“Usually I gave them the keys. I’d drop in occasionally to socialise and so on. Could be a bit of a pain at times, since I couldn’t use my own studio if people went over schedule. Siouxie used to be in there for months sometimes. Nick Cave was often in and out – he didn’t hang about. Very efficient in a studio, is Nick. I used to find Robert Smith on the sofa in the mornings, quite often. It was also interesting to watch Depeche graduate from proto boy band to serious leather rockers. They also nicked Gareth [Jones], who did all my recording until Daniel [Miller] began to use him for all the Mute artists. Then they all came down the studio as well. I do remember feeling a bit put out when the Cocteau Twins wanted to come in and there was no time left. They were one of my all-time favourite bands. Eventually I couldn’t get in there at all, so it had to go. Sold it around 1989. Then I went AWOL.”
Little reference has been made to what occurred during this time when you dropped off the media radar in the early 1990s. Oscar Wilde speculated that the only thing worse than being talked about was not being talked about, so was this period of being AWOL the worst time for you?
“I really enjoy not being part of things – invisibility is an ideal for me. Guess I’m not very Wildean. Being visible all the time is painful. I can only tolerate it episodically.
“I didn’t enjoy the music scene from the mid eighties; dull, dull, dull – apart from the bands above and a few others. London had no underground scene until acid took off at the end of the eighties. Always a sign of a crap era. I went off to do other things - then there was a lot of personal stuff to sort out. Took a few years out of my life.”
Work with Louis Gordon on Shifting City was one of the first forays for you after this social hiatus. How has the relationship grown over the past decade?
“So far, so good – we’re reasonably telepathic when we record, which makes for efficiency. It continues to be an adventure. Still get surprised by things we make. Like a lab with lots of delightful experiments. Breeding new forms of life. Irresponsible but fun.”
You created art for prog rockers Porcupine Tree in 2000. There’s a specific Gothic quality redolent in most of their artwork – were you able to bring your own ideas to the art project for Lightbulb Sun without too much external input?
“Yes, they were receptive and we were both concerned to get it right – capture some sort of annexe to the music. Richard [Barbieri, keyboardist] kindly said it was the only cover they hadn’t all argued over.”
Metamatic’s re-release has been promoted via the appearance of the tune Burning Car on a Mojo’s cover CD in February. What are your thoughts on contemporary electronic artists such as The Knife, who also featured on this disc, or Mojo’s cover stars Radiohead?
“The Knife – well they’re the logical end point of a certain scene – Inevitable Music. Chris Cunningham meets dark electro. The Quay Brothers with synths. Splendid stuff.
“I like some of Radiohead. When they’re concentrating. Thom Yorke’s good at structure - most material seems to get written using an acoustic guitar. Same basis as the Floyd, really – folk songs with psychedelic electronics on top. Radiohead have the same genetic line - New Generation British Psychic Adventuring. School of Travelling Without Moving.
“It’s also fascinating to see people building their persona. That’s where the real artwork lies – not so much in the music. Thom Yorke does it all very well. Sort of amazed and grateful. The beautiful and flawed thing. A genetic splice between Richard Hawking and Bambi.”
You’ve earned praise from hotly tipped acts such as Junior Boys and Klaxons for your back catalogue. How do you feel about your legacy and have you been approached by many contemporary artists interested in collaborations?
“I’m getting all collaborated out at the moment. At least a dozen projects underway. Have to go in for repairs occasionally, so it all gets a bit much. I’m going to have to get very selective or there’ll be some kind of messy meltdown. Small particles everywhere. Have to sweep me up from behind the sofa, wearing a reliable radiation suit.”
What release are you most proud of among your back catalogue?
“One or two of the tracks with Louis. A couple of Metamatic songs. Some of Cathedral Oceans and Tiny Colour Movies – the first because it was a highly personal set of stuff I’d worked on for years, without much hope of it ever finding a niche. The second because of the connections with movies – I love cinema and this is involved with the slightly-surreal-but-real side of film. There’s much more of it too – just seen some old footage from a stock film archive run by a dodgy character in Soho, now deceased. So deeply mysterious, some of this material. Old sunlight caught between layers of film, telling strange stories. Gorgeous, erotic and frightening. Got around 30 more stories of private film makers and their material. From ghost hunters to a mystery deer loose in New York; delightful and very moving stuff.”
Your move through various mediums and changes of direction – sometimes when at the verge of increased success - indicate you’re a person not interested in settling on routine if it endangers your creativity.
“Can seem a bit perverse, I guess – always thought you have to go by your instincts – the only thing you have really. Things seem to turn out all right in the end. (Artist Cliché 212 I know, but all very true).
“I think I’ve got more of a careening than a career. Quite funny really, when I look at it all in perspective from here.  Set out to be an artist – without quite realising I was born in the completely wrong place at totally the wrong time – Daft as a brush really. A promising painter and sculptor secretly fond of poetry, you couldn’t make a life out of any of that where I came from - couldn’t even make a good joke out of it, so I had to improvise a bit.”
What makes a restless artist happy?
“The next project  - and watching people from a coffee house window at 9am.”
John Foxx plays Fowler’s Live with DJ Tr!p on Tue May 6. From Trash is out now through The Planet Company.