The familiar fringe that flops down over his eyes has some
flecks of grey now. Those eyes might have a few more laugh-lines, but still have a sparkle - even when in the midst of one of those conveyor belt days
of interviews trying to convince the audience to accept your latest musical
tangent.
Neil Finn has been doing this for over 40 years. And still can find the wonder in it. “I’m as fascinated by music as much, maybe more, than I’ve ever been,” he states, but then reality checks “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t dark days where you can’t quite find what you’re trying to achieve.”
Many would name him a master of the craft, the art, the mystery of songwriting. He offers some of the formula: “There’s inspiration, creativity – and some bluff. And maybe a bit of skulduggery,” he adds conspiratorially.It’s probably up to the listener to work out just what proportion of those ingredients are present across Dizzy Heights, the new album under his own name rather than the Crowded House or Pajama Club band guises of his late. Although it’s very much a family affair: wife Sharon, and sons Liam and Elroy centring a band that trooped off to Flaming Lips’ producer Dave Fridmann’s studio in upstate New York. Finn clarifies: “We’d actually did a couple of ‘family band’ gigs at the end of Pajama Club tour. This maybe a step to one day doing an album where we can all write the songs, then play it all together. New Zealand’s Von Trapps? Maybe not,” he muses. “There’s not many truly memorable family groups. OK, maybe The Partridge Family,” he jokes.
The thoughts dovetail: “It’s about finding a balance. Music
is the most important thing in the whole world, beside my family. But then you
recognise the cosmic significance of a few songs is fairly small. You’ve got to
keep both of those thoughts in your head, otherwise you’ll disappear up your
own arse. But make it too frivolous, and it’s all too much just a game of
getting famous.”Neil Finn has been doing this for over 40 years. And still can find the wonder in it. “I’m as fascinated by music as much, maybe more, than I’ve ever been,” he states, but then reality checks “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t dark days where you can’t quite find what you’re trying to achieve.”
Many would name him a master of the craft, the art, the mystery of songwriting. He offers some of the formula: “There’s inspiration, creativity – and some bluff. And maybe a bit of skulduggery,” he adds conspiratorially.It’s probably up to the listener to work out just what proportion of those ingredients are present across Dizzy Heights, the new album under his own name rather than the Crowded House or Pajama Club band guises of his late. Although it’s very much a family affair: wife Sharon, and sons Liam and Elroy centring a band that trooped off to Flaming Lips’ producer Dave Fridmann’s studio in upstate New York. Finn clarifies: “We’d actually did a couple of ‘family band’ gigs at the end of Pajama Club tour. This maybe a step to one day doing an album where we can all write the songs, then play it all together. New Zealand’s Von Trapps? Maybe not,” he muses. “There’s not many truly memorable family groups. OK, maybe The Partridge Family,” he jokes.
But Neil Finn does have the fame, and a canon of songs that truly affect people. There’s a pride in the work, perhaps tempered with a bit of a self-effacing New Zealand reserve. “I don’t really sit around and think about the ‘legacy’ aspect of it. But I do know I’ve written things that mean a lot to a lot of people”, he admits. “I appreciate that exchange - that’s profound, I’m lucky to be part of that.”
However, a competitive element seems absurd to him. “Comparing
and connecting my work to the work of others, it makes no sense. To be honest,
I’m bored by the idea of all those lists that seem to be the fashion –
particularly when I’m not on one of them. And I just hate being asked ‘So,
what’s the favourite song you’ve written?’ – that’s ridiculous to me, an
impossible question. I can maybe pick 20 that I’m really happy with, but don’t
ask me for three or five.”
He again ponders the mystery, and the tricks of the trade.
“Maybe one of the secrets of a successful song is it sounds like your revealing
yourself – even when you’re really not. What might start from some personal
point would get bogged if you kept just trying to diarise your life – although that
does seems to work for Taylor Swift,” he chuckles. “That’s where the
skulduggery comes in – to open up doors to possibilities, so people can imagine
their own scenarios.”
So, it seem we think we know Neil Finn, but probably don’t.
We presume he’s the character in his songs. He then demystifies one of greatest
of these supposed confessional moments: “Maybe I’m being disingenuous, but Into Temptation is really from two
experiences – neither of which was me having it off with a stranger in a hotel,
as much as people might want it to be.”
“Basically, there was a rugby team and a netball team
staying at the hotel I was in, I heard what I thought was someone knocking on
my door, stuck my head out to find that next door along one of the netball
girls was, er, ‘calling on’ one of the rugby boys. It was actually very comical
- he saw her, then saw me looking, much embarrassment all round, and I just
quickly went back in the room and scribbled down ‘Opened up the door, I couldn’t believe my luck’….” So, now you
know.
“And the ‘Knowing full
well the earth will rebel…’ is from after one of big earthquakes in LA, one
of those hellfire preachers saying that was God’s punishment for America’s
sins. But there’s not a person who doesn’t understand the theme - but sometimes
banal circumstances can make for a great song.”
What makes Neil Finn different from we mere mortals is not many of us could find that kind of emotion in the banal.
What makes Neil Finn different from we mere mortals is not many of us could find that kind of emotion in the banal.
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