Planet Notion

04/09/2007

‘War stories are about the places that you’ve been in your life, the mad scenarios, the difficulties, the shit...’ Dark, dramatic, disorientating, challenging; welcome to the musical and lyrical landscape crafted by the men from UNKLE. This is a thrilling kind of purgatory; this is catharsis; this is Never, Never, Land. A twilight zone to which James Lavelle and Richard File obsessively return: their fiercely anticipated third LP, ‘War Stories’, is another exercise in depth-charging; more nightmares interrogated.

An operatic cacophony of voices and selves takes on a guitar-led sonic quagmire, digging out the grimy origin of intractable matters and feelings and driving them back below. While it might not be advisable for sensitive souls to follow the dictates of a secret intro to ‘Back And Forth’ on a collection of UNKLE remixes, ‘Listen... with earphones in the dark,’ the record is riddled with and built for self-immersion and self-interrogation. Whether ‘War Stories’ has you fleshing out its undisclosed terrors with your own demons, or you use it as a dream catcher, a talisman to contain the darkness, its transient rays of light will afford you blinks of wonder. Dense, chaotic and with characteristic unrelenting UNKLE intensity, ‘War Stories’ defies numbness and indifference; it crowds the mind’s eye like black ink bleeding across a blank page.

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I imagine my meeting with UNKLE to be on a suitably sombre day; greyness, prophetic winds, drizzle. The capricious British weather has other plans: enter a blazing sun, preternatural blue sky and, worst of all, queue the bridsong. I’m sitting with one half of leftfield’s most macabre musicians on a bench in a playground of surreal brightness, and even the man himself is relaxedly chirpy. A detoxing Richard File is rolling liquorice cigarettes, guzzling Evian and making surprise diversions from our interview to greet the skittering, tuneful wildlife - ‘Look, Starlings! They’re definitely Russian, aren’t they?’ When it comes to shooting the duo, we even have to seek out the shadowy spots to construct a backdrop in the appropriate mood. Because for all the departures in terms of sound and production from the first two UNKLE records, with ‘War Stories,’ the primary emotional register is the same; caught between rocks and hard places.

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So are these guys simply married to the dark side? Rich squirms a little and laughs, ‘That’s where me and James collided ten years ago, being that way inclined musically, so there’s always going to be a strong foundation there. I’m into serious music, the records I’m going to play my kids will be serious; that’s where I get off, you know?’ But is there no respite? Pity us, great war lord! ‘It’s not all doom and gloom, there are songs there that ultimately give hope – ‘Price You Pay,’ certainly, beyond that... I don’t know! That’s the mid-point of the record, though. Also, it’s how you look at things, I’ve got mates who can’t cope with what you call ‘dark music,’ but for me it pulls me up, it’s going down to the fucking depths and some people aren’t up for it. Each to their own!’ I joke there could be a warning on UNKLE records similar to those for explicit content; Rich chuckles again, ‘Everyone should experiment at least once.’

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And experimentation is the order of the day with ‘War Stories’: the ever ambitious pair, whose previous collaborators include DJ Shadow, Richard Ashcroft and Ian Brown, recruited Queens Of The Stone Age producer Chris Goss to wrestle their third record into an alternative direction. Where ‘Psyence Fiction’ and ‘Never, Never, Land’ bare their very machinery as they judder and snarl along, all processed beats and electronic excursions, ‘War Stories’ matches the very human dilemmas it confronts with generous helpings of organic production, as well as beat splicings. Further, the LP was created between London and LA’s desert Rancho de la Luna. Speed-freak biker guitarists thrash against studio wizardry; live, urgent instrumental parts replace confected elements. (So ‘War Stories’ demands the introduction of an UNKLE show - a forthcoming global tour finally sees their work presented live.) Rich recalls: ‘Working with Autolux on ‘Persons And

Machinery’ was amazing – with those musicians you can plug anything into anything, and it sounds great!’ Josh Homme, The Duke Spirit, Ian Astbury and 3D are among the considerable guest vocalists, which while it may confuse the album’s specific style, gives a blurring effect that might just be by design. Is ‘War Stories’ meant to morph into a many-headed beast that no matter with which tongue he speaks; no matter which mask he dons, he is still trapped in the same maddening mentality – or, ‘head space,’ as James tends to say – and knows only the language of frustrated desire; cries of despair?

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One UNKLE trademark is obscure, horror-show vocal sampling, at its most prominent on ‘Never, Never, Land.’ A downtrodden narrator extols our grim lot: ‘That’s life, man, that’s what you’ve got to go through;’ a Star Wars style narrator echoes: ‘Even now in heaven, there were angels carrying savage weapons...’ to usher in feverish guitars. But on ‘War Stories,’ significantly, we have James himself singing for the first time, his direct and raw appeal of ‘Hold my hand, / I need you now,’ laid over an urging groove of a bassline. Rich’s icy backing refrain ‘Secrets everywhere...’ serves to expertly warp – the way only UNKLE know how - what might have been a relatively straight love song. Cascading as the album does from its intro motif of disappointment – the bluesy female moan, ‘How thoughtless of you to let me down, / When I thought you’d be around...’ – ‘War Stories’ clearly concerns itself with private battles rather than political conflicts. On ‘Mayday,’ Liela Moss’ understated lines of torture, ‘I ebb and you flow, / It’s a bit screwed that you can’t catch my love,’ belies jaunty guitars and rousing drum rolls. Thus real human pain is etched around the encroaching soundscape. Usually with UNKLE the music is more emotive than any overt lyrical expression, but ‘War Stories’ is dogged in its message, inhabited as it is by victims who refuse to be silenced.

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Future classic ‘Burn My Shadow’ keenly demonstrates this new style; the imperative both felt to distill lengthy, cinematic works into the sharp, urgent narratives of distinct figures. Tentative guitar strumming becomes an almighty barrage, only to fall away as Ian Astbury’s character steps up. The song is a parting speech, his dignified answer to impending dissolution, whether voluntary or enforced. ‘I have burned my tomorrows, / And I stand inside today,’ is his majestic resignation above eery, wayward chimes. He continues: ‘I will face my destroyers, / I was ambushed by the light, / And you judged me once for falling, / But this wounded heart will rise...’ Herein lies another departure from UNKLE’s existing repertoire: the semblance of hope, the promise of salvation. In their very first live show, ‘Burn My Shadow,’ was orchestrated by stacks of retro televisions, hectic with rolling, monochrome bar codes. Perfectly suited to a song about the erasure of identity – so many lives flattened and reduced to the same value or residue, the same senseless code – the flashing black and white lines also direct us to the pair’s unprecedented use of contrast, the light and the dark. It was crucial this time for UNKLE to temper the darkness, to slice epic electronica and carve out room for dynamic songs. Vividly felt, insistent characters demand space all of their own, finding a more fitting accompaniment in erratic guitars than soulless studio beats. In James’ view, this intensely human focus and execution ‘represents what UNKLE is about the best – I’m more proud of this record than any other.’

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‘A lot of fucked up shit went on with ‘Never, Never, Land,’ I wasn’t in a good place, really,’ confides James. ‘I was burnt out; Mo Wax had finished, my relationship had broken down, I was doing a lot of drugs and was just not happy.’ When I ask what kind of film that record would have been, ‘Apocalypse Now,’ – they all are!’ is his laughing response. The analogies continue: for ‘War Stories,’ if the record were a person, it’d be someone ‘very confused, like me!’ An animal? We decide it’d have to be a black panther, bent on some twilit mission through the undergrowth. How about a drink? ‘A bottle of meths, probably!’ (Here James echoes Rich’s earlier joke when I ask him how he imagines we’ll feel as ‘War Stories’ marks its dubious, distorted close: ‘Downing a bottle of vodka and dialing 999, probably!’) Last we discuss the LP’s dominant emotion; ask James and it’s a feeling ‘of internalising, searching,’ so when pressed to find just four words to crystallise this rich record, ‘The highs and lows,’ are his reply.

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James alludes to past difficulties between the duo, talking about recording the first two albums – ‘I couldn’t repeat those scenarios, testosterone-led angst, sick of the attitude going on,’ – so it’s especially touching when I recall Rich earlier: ‘It was great to collaborate on a song vocally with James. The desert gave him freedom, being away from stuff – it meant a lot.’ James paints Goss as a calming influence, ‘he has a Buddha kind of quality to him. He said, “This is a Broadway play, we’re going to make theatre...” Although, to be honest with you, there were tense moments with this one as well!’ ‘Theatrical’ is indeed apt for ‘War Stories,’ its hysterical human pitch, apocalyptic trajectory and epic guitar work make it modern tragic art. Contrast this overt drama and narrative aspect with the more abstract, atmospheric effect of ‘Never, Never, Land,’ rolling out vast, swathing soundscapes inhabited by grainier figures, swallowing their screams. When I ask James whether UNKLE is about fantasy or therapy, ‘Confronting things,’ is his immediate reply, just as Rich tells me about their chiaroscuro work, ‘It’s just reality, it’s recording what you feel. But believe me, I enjoy my life immensely!’

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‘War Stories’ was built to be about emotion and experience undiluted; axing excess beats and clunkier movements in the pursuit of concision, of ‘real songs.’ Which means that a proper UNKLE tunes is bass-driven with an intricate beat pattern, and lyrical content is central. Arcade Fire, Radiohead, Massive Attack and the Beastie Boys all influenced ‘War Stories.’ Looking to records like ‘Check Your Head,’ and ‘Mezzanine,’ James admires the way the bands ‘shed their previous skin.’ His shedding metaphor is appropriate; a violent sensation that UNKLE’s music often enacts and interrogates is that of a disintegration of self, and the dread attending threatened identity. While the sentiment behind the genius ‘Burn My Shadow’ feels perplexing and hyper-sensitive, a sardonic requiem for a troubled life, its widely banned video carelessly suggests a suicide bomber. But remember the conflicts this record registers are deeply personal, not political: individual war stories detailing paranoia, need, betrayal, disenchantment, distress, regret. Hear the ghostly melody of an abandoned bell, brooding piano keys, achingly beautiful strings, skeletal handclaps, claustrophobic beats... Guitars soaring and crashing with hope... Because this is music demanding an immediate, visceral response, music that Rich hopes ‘goes straight for the heart.’ For James, ‘If it wasn’t for that, I’d go live in the countryside and grow vegetables...’ May the sweet Lord forbid that forevermore!

‘WAR STORIES’ IS OUT NOW (SURRENDER ALL)