Wild Beasts – life, lyrics and literature

Field Day headliners Wild Beasts are that rare thing, a band whose restless experimentation results in better and better records. Their latest, their third album, Smother, is a case in point, devilishly subtle pop songs that deal with grand, dramatic themes with lyrics that willfully spin their own unique narratives while leaving you humming their refrain long after.

And in lead singer Hayden Thorpe the Kendal-quartet have not only a unique voice but an eloquent star in waiting willing to embrace high art as much as dancefloor groove, the likes of which we’ve not seen since Jarvis and Pulp made British pop feel like a whole lot of fun without having to dumb down.

In our latest exclusive, in-depth Field Day interview Hayden waxes lyrical about everything from inspirations (Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Almodovar, Hemingway) to regrets (“We’ve been stubborn. We’ve existed relying upon puristic standards to a debilitating extent at times”), being sonically adventurous and evolving into one of the best live bands around: “I think we’re entering an exciting phase. It seems to me we’ve finally shaken off the Britpop hangover and reliance on the rock’n’roll revival of the early noughties…”

You’ve talked about being inspired by Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein – can you explain?
“It was the humanist sentiment of Frankenstein which I was drawn to. Here was a creature in desperate want and need of love, doing dreadful things, but for all the right reasons. I think there’s something deeply embedded in the human dynamic about underlying wants and intentions. The Frankenstein monster is a beautiful tool for demonstrating people’s greed and cruelty towards outsiders and incredible love and kindness towards insiders. The part of the book describing Frankenstein looking in on a family and making sense of their actions is really quite something.”

What other source material influenced the making of your new album?
“I’ve mentioned Almodovar films quite often with this album. I think his ability to capture great humour in the face of tragedy is something I’ve always appreciate. I’d say it’s really a Spanish thing, that great line of gore and brutality pitched against grace and deftness is what they do so well. Bull fighting and the whole bravado and ritual surrounding it’s practice has been an interest for a long time. Hemingway’s Death in the Afternoon is all over our stuff.”

How do you approach the tricky business of writing lyrics?
“It’s sort of an anti-approach. I don’t find it tricky at all. It tends to be more of an elongated obsessive process. It’s not like the pen is some sort of Excalibur that needs pulling from the stone. Just frequent note taking and jotting tends to pull together in a certain direction over time. It’s quite an invisible and elusive thing. I quickly forget how and why words have come together how they have. But that superstitious quality is essential to me. I don’t ever want to feel like I’m “pro” and that “I know what I’m doing”. Taking a candle to the dark is always the most thrilling and rewarding way to work.”

What lyricists do you admire?
“Cohen. Morrissey. Bush. Newsome. I think there’s a real difference in calibre between those writers who write from the heart in a say what you see type of way and those who write from the heart but take it further into a realm of hyper reality, where every little thing becomes highly romanticised and larger than life. My favourite lyricists come alive on paper and become more than they ever could be in reality. They exists in this super human manner. They’re believable yet too good to be true.”

You’ve been described as quintessentially British – but what does ‘being British’ mean to you?
“I think being “British” is quite a sweeping term. Like being a ‘Scott’ represents drastically different things to be a ‘Cockney’. Our type of British is ‘Northerner’. I suppose historically embedded in Britishness is a masochistic sense of humour and a desperate want to draw the exotic and flamboyant out of what is normally a grey mundanity.  I think that’s what we do best. Defying the habitual misery in light of ‘the other’, that colourful paradise we seek on some far off beach. We can never quite be ‘cool’, but maybe that’s all the more endearing.”

How would you say you’ve evolved as a band, both in the studio and as a live outfit, over the last few years?
“We’ve relaxed in both spaces. We’ve built up a faith that good things will happen if you let them, but they can’t be forced. You can’t pretend because you’ll get found out. I suppose you get better at controlling what is always an unpredictable and fluid terrain, whilst realising that it’s those chance occurrences and happenings that creep out from your blind spot which can have the greatest and most appealing effect.”

What mistakes have you made?
“We’ve been stubborn. We’ve existed relying upon puristic standards to a debilitating extent at times. We’ve been self righteous when it would have been helpful not to be. Essentially the fact that we started the band as teenagers means we still hold those idealistic standards, this has been are greatest asset and our most dangerous threat. Any mistakes we’ve made we’ve made for ourselves and I suppose that is what counts. I’d rather have discounted a load of bad advice and perhaps a little good advice in the cull rather than accept all the crappy advice that is flung around left right and centre.”

The new record feels more sonically adventurous – was this reflected in your approach to making it?
“Yeah, we were really adamant that we wanted to make a record that sounded very sonically immersive. A kind of complete head space as it were. That meant we had to be pretty explorative in trying to keep surprising and keep finding new places to go during the length of the record. Most of the time it was a hugely fun and exhilarating exercise, maybe mostly due to Richard Formby our producer, who’s approach to making records tends to take on a never say never policy. Often the blind alleys and dead ends we went down revealed other pathways which we wouldn’t have realised were there had we not taken a chance.”

You’ve said previously that you we “so frustrated by the non-adventure in British music” – do you still feel the same way?
“I have to say no. I think we’re entering an exciting phase. It seems to me we’ve finally  shaken off the Britpop hangover and reliance on the rock’n’roll revival of the early noughties. I think the death of the huge all conquering rock band has been healthy for alternative music on the most part. We seem to have stopped confusing success with integrity. One certainly doesn’t mean the other. There seems to be more page space taken up by genuinely adventures and well meaning music.”

What other music/artists do you get excited by?
“I’m glad These New Puritans exist. I think Fuck Buttons are at the height of their field. I’m into what Dutch Uncles are getting at and heartened by their off kilter trajectory. 2:54 I’m really exited for. They’re addictive. The Gwilym Gold project with Bronze software is pushing what is possible. Lexxx who put that together is a genius. Exiting times.”

How have you found the transition toward the bigger stages? Has it affected your approach to playing live?
“I find the bigger stages more comfortable and easy to perform in. There’s more space to move in, even the smallest movements become huge gestures on a large stage in a way that small stages just don’t allow for. I think there is a magic number where shows begin to loose their intimacy if they become to big. That’s kind of our job really, to draw people in and make the shows engaging and on a human level at any scale.”

What can we expect from your live show at Field Day?
“You will see a nuts and bolts band performance in one sense, there is no studio trickery, our fingers are making all the noises, that’s important to us. Though in another sense we have worked hard on lifting the atmosphere of our shows into something that can fill you up and surround you. A temporary little world as it were. We’re exploring the possibilities for that show at the moment. It feels important to do something memorable. We’re not taking the task lightly.”