AIMEE MANN - @#%&*! Smilers Rating ****1/2
AIMEE MANN has arrived in the UK and is having phone trouble.
"I hired a cell phone. It’s the worst phone," complains the
American singer. "It’s from, like, 1979! It does nothing."
I quickly discover that the woman behind some of the most gorgeous and languid
vocals imaginable is also highly passionate.
She’s here to discuss seventh album @#%&*! Smilers, a high point in
a career littered with high points.
From the easy West Coast glide of Freeway to the countrified Phoenix and on to
the unsettling Little Tornado, it’s an album of exquisite mini-dramas, quite
a departure from 2005’s concept album The Forgotten Arm.
Here Aimee, 47, tells SIMON COSYNS about the album, why she’s gone
it alone with her own record label and assesses the current state of the
record industry.DO you find it liberating to release records on your label?
I do. I found it very frustrating and kind of absurd to answer artistically to
other people.
I was always fine, saying, "If you don’t want to put out the record,
don’t put it out". But then they go: "We want to put it out.
We want to keep you. But we want you to change." I never got that.
It’s quite brave to go your own way.
I didn’t do it out of bravery. I’m fairly agreeable and I want to please
people but I can’t think with someone else’s brain.
What do the expletives mean in your album title?
It’s supposed to be the curse word of your choice, basically like cartoon
cursing.
How did you approach these songs?
I was really in the mood for some different sounds which is how we wound up
with a lot of Moog, analogue synths and Wurlitzers.
Freeway takes you back to the West Coast sound of the Seventies. Was that
your intention?
I wanted to write a song that had a simple little riff. Songs that reference
cars and roadways are always classic Americana, aren’t they?
Is Stranger Into Starman about the cult of celebrity?
It’s more about the general idea of elevating people in your estimation that
don’t deserve it, based on how they appear rather than how they are. You
could call it narcissism.
You bassist Paul Bryan produces the album. What did he bring to it?
I started to realise how great Paul was when we started to play trio shows
together, just me, Paul and the keyboard player — just how connected he was
to music in a way that I didn’t see in other people.
He has that quality of really getting inside a song.
You are vociferous about piracy in music. How do you feel about the
industry in 2008?
I’m very conflicted about discussing it because it’s not that appealing to
have an artist talking about business and money. Part of doing an interview
is to make yourself likeable.
People don’t want to hear you moaning "How am I going to pay the
pool guy?"
But the record business is completely falling apart what with downloading and
people burning CDs for each other.
It’s like global warming. The business is the melting iceberg and I’m the
polar bear. I’m not super-happy about it but there’s nothing I can do.
I don’t make my living through shows because I pay the band, pay for hotel
rooms and the food.
For people of my level, it’s break even. I don’t sell T-shirts or have a
perfume line. I make money selling records and if you don’t buy the record
then I don’t make money.
What will happen in the future?
It probably comes down to putting out a song every couple of months, internet
release only. No beautiful packages, which is a shame to me because I love
packages and the artists who create them.
