Interview: Michael McLinn

The harp has a rather chequered history, as far as popular music’s concerned. Mention solo harpists and until recently I’d have thought of Mary O’Hara, Enya or Joanna Newsom. None of their music fills me with a great deal of enthusiasm. Actually, I’m just being polite. I think I’d rather slice my reproductive organs into morsel-sized bites with their instrument of choice than have to endure more than a few seconds of their music.

Then I came across Michael McLinn, whose contemplative, graceful and occasionally subversive songs are based on nothing more than his own voice, the occasional burst of piano and the pure, untreated sounds of the very same instrument that has so often been the basis for nothing more than bland hotel lobby music. Investigating further, I found a performer whose approach and attitude is about as far removed from the conventional as you could possibly expect.

Take, for instance, the lyrics to Hobnob With The Gentry (“stick classical technique up your arse on my behalf”), the list of influences encompassing Harpo Marx, Siouxsie And The Banshees, Marie Antoinette and Madonna, or the picture of him looking every inch the Kashpoint kid in thigh-high silver boots. With one self-produced album already under his belt (Some Strings Attached from January 2007), he was clearly a performer to investigate.

The obvious first question is why you choose to play the harp rather than any other instrument?

I had been writing songs on a keyboard, which I stole from my little sister. I really wanted some classical training, but thought it would be silly to take piano lessons as I could already navigate one. At the time I was listening to a lot of Björk and when I heard her Vespertine record, which uses a lot of harp, I thought “Thats it!” My songs are little and fiddly, not so full-bodied, so the harp really suits them. I managed to track down the [Brighton] Pavilion harpist – Andrew Ballantyne – and he has been teaching me for about three years now.

When did you start writing and performing music?

I have been writing for about five years. In the beginning I knew nothing about music and would have to go through each note to find the ones that were the same as the ones in my head. If you think how many notes are in a song, it was a very slow process. Now music comes more naturally, and what I write is actually good. Performing took a lot longer. I did not want to compromise… that these songs were for harp, but I did not own a harp till much later. Andy Drake, my harp, cost a lot, and I don’t drive so he is really difficult to move around.

Your harp has a name? How did that come about?

My instructor’s harps have names. He told me it’s bad luck not to name your harps. Andy is the name of my instructor, and he choose the harp for me. I had a certain budget and I just said to him “Look, I trust you go and get me a boy harp,” so he played a part in the birth of my harp – not only my learning of it. “Drake” is just there, like many things, to pull in the naval nautical theme.

How would you describe your music to someone who hasn’t heard it yet?

If someone has not heard my music I try not to describe it to them. What I do is make a mental note to get them a copy of my record as soon as possible.

There’s a big “folk” resurgence at the moment (a.k.a. nu-folk, antifolk, folktronica, and so on). Is this something you feel part of, or would you rather distance yourself from it?

Musically I am influenced by each. There are two traditional songs I sing at shows sometimes. I don’t like the idea of being part of a scene though – having to wear certain clothes or play certain clubs would depress me.

Which traditional songs do you sing?

I play Lord Ronald, which I first heard recorded by Alisdair Roberts, who I love. Its a really simple song musically, but has a little twist in the storyline. I also sometimes start with an accapella version of Visur Vatnsenda Rosu, which is an Icelandic song. I first heard an instrumental version of this at a Björk concert, then looked the lyrics up in a book. I would sing over the instrumental as a warm-up, then just decided to include it in shows. Musically the chord progression lends itself nicely to the beginning of Vessel And Machine, which is usually my second song.

You call your songs “the boys”. That makes them sound like children, or friends. Does it feel like they have a separate existence to you?

The boys… yes, they do feel seperate. This is basically me trying not to take credit for what I consider to be an age-old tradition. I have some control over them, as far as when they come, which boys turn up at a show. But how they are, I cannot control too much, or maybe I just try not to. But they are not always friendly… never childish. I have only had one experience of talking to somebody make-believe who actually dictated how the song should be, but this comes into play with each. I don’t know whether its the harp being male or me being male that produces boys and not girls.

Is there any sense in which the boys are potential lovers, however platonic?

That’s quite funny. but it also makes me feel a bit old and sad if that were the case. Not really though, because whilst I find them to be male and I find them sexually exciting to play, they are not humans. I suppose though my soul mate would be a potential lover I feel as connected to as I do one of the boys.

What do you mean when you say that they’re “not always friendly”?

Well an example would be the song Mouth Port. I thought for a long time that I can’t say “fuck” so much if I want to be on the radio, even though that was the lyric that came to me. So I tried changing it, I think to “spark” or “rush” or something, and the song reacted in an unfriendly way. I would forget the words, I would play the wrong notes. The song would not volunteer for set-lists. I changed it back and it’s probably the song I find easiest to play and play most often. Keeping Luff is another, this boy refers to my best friend as a bitch. I knew this would go down badly, but that’s how the boy looked when I met him and who am I to say “Well I need to cut your hair before you come to my show”? That would make me the unfriendly one.

Your list of influences includes, amongst others, Björk, Madonna and Sinéad O’Connor – strong women with distinctive visual identities and a talent for constant reinvention. What’s the appeal?

Aside from the obvious camp appeal strong women have generally to gay men, it is their artistry: how their visual identity helps explain their music. I always love what Jarvis Cocker wears, and Sophie Ellis Bextor, but it does not take me to a deeper understanding of what they are doing musically, that is the difference for me with these examples. Sinéad uses a lot of history and mythology in her lyrics. I try to do this. Björk is a total musical genius, I hope one day to write an album that gives Homogenic a run for its money. I could never in a million years be as cool as Madonna, thats why I like her, but they have things in common too.

Homogenic is one of my favourite albums as well. Such a raw, elemental collection of songs that seems as rooted in landscape as human emotion. Maybe I’m being fanciful, but it always seems a much more “Icelandic” album than her others. Is Iceland somewhere that interests you as a place?

Iceland interested me in the first instance because of Björk, rather than listening to her due to an interest in the country. However, since then I have gone on to study a lot of its folklore, which I find amazing. It’s not all shit morality fiction, some of it is quite aggressive. I am not very well travelled at all, sadly. It’s one of lots of places I would like to go. Romania and Germany are other big ones.

From the pictures I’ve seen, your own visual identity covers quite a wide spectrum: from Celtic warrior via preppy student to Barbarella-style space pirate. Does this feel like part of the same creative process as making music, or is it something completely different?

Not at all. Very different indeed. A boy will have been played a hundred times before I have any idea what he looks like. How to represent something visually takes me a lot of thought, plus it is at the mercy of my own tastes. I am a bit of a clothes whore. How to represent something sonically comes much more naturally and I try not to mess too much with an initial idea, regardless of my liking or disliking of it. It can be a lot of fun though. The idea of being a space pirate rather pleases me!

You say you’ve been inspired by the cities you’ve visited. Which city has made the greatest impact on you?

Portsmouth, where I grew up, has certainly influenced my interest in all things nautical and naval, themes which come up in each boy at least once. The Brighton gay scene has influenced me a lot. I moved there when I was eighteen. All the exhibitionism! London does not influence the boys as much as what I decide to do with them. Though I have only been to Cornwall once (and for a short while) I wrote three songs about it. The ancient turkish city Ephesus is also responsible for one.

I’m not sure I understand what you mean about London. Is this related to you having moved here recently?

Well, Brighton and Portsmouth I think affected the boys themselves. Certain places I have been hanging out recently, and people I have met, influence more in the way of who I show the boys to, where I take the boys, how I go about getting the boys noticed by people. It has certainly made me more proactive. But then it would, Brighton is so small.

Read any good books recently?

Lots. I have worked for three bookshops over the last four years. Reinaldo Arenas was my most recent bender. I read three of his in a row. They are all out of print now so not so easy to get hold of, but if you can do… beautifulness!

Tell us about “the lunatics I seem to end up courting” (a quote from your MySpace page) and how they’ve influenced your music.

The thought of somebody – lunatic or otherwise – knowing I am singing about them rather bothers me, so this has influenced my way of addressing things sideways. Romance given or taken will always produce boys. Gladiators was hard for me to write and is still hard for me to sing.

One of your lyrics bemoans the fact that “I can’t source any love” – is love a commodity?

In this boy, yes. It is all about recycling. If you are not given love from someone, to love them back you must use up your natural resources, and that is when emotional global warming happens.

You mentioned in a radio interview that Vessel And Machine was inspired by a Tomi Ungerer picture. Which other visual art inspires you?

Fashion. it is hard to be a showman when you are sat behind an instrument bigger than you are, so I try to keep an eye on that. The photography of Sarah Maple recently inspired my London Mer Gentry project. Like yourself, people were confused about the concept of “boys” so I thought… fuck it, lets dress up as the songs then stand in a big line and point rudely at the camera like Sarah Maples does. Some sleeve design and art work is as narrative as the record itself, so I always examine that.

The London Mer Gentry picture on your MySpace page is fabulous. It’s the one I’ve been pointing people towards when I’ve mentioned in passing that I’m interviewing you. Would it be too trainspotter-ish to ask which outfit goes with which song?

Well, the Michael character is not song specific. He is there to represent the channel of the other three. The becardiganed character is the embodiment of the fact that as well as a dedication to the craft of musicianship, I want a big house and young girls to fancy me and to do sparkly shows regardless. He is a bit of a piss-take. He is also songs about lovers like Vessel and Gladiators and Little Gun. The helmet character is historical and songs like Oh Dear Vladimir and Just Be Right On and Lord Ronald. The aggressor club kid character is “oh, that’s what I should have said” type of songs, like Gladiators and Credit For Daddy and Keeping Luff.

Where do you see your music going next? You’ve said that you feel more lyrical than musical, though you’ve become more confident musically as time has passed. Do you have any grand ambitions for a more sumptuous sound, or would you prefer to keep things simple?

There are a lot of things I would still like to do. If I had the time and money, I would buy, learn and write with synthesizers, accordian, hammond organ, wurlitzers and so forth – of course, doing the skeleton of each boy on the harp still. But I do not have any of those things and I struggle with the idea of having other musicians involved with something with my name on it. Also, I do not like the idea of tampering with a boy’s DNA too much. On the other hand, I think Some Strings Attached proved that songs can be executed well enough with just a harp and a voice. This is why a record label would be nice. I could arse around for hours with all sorts. This is why I moved from Brighton to London, though that does not sound so logical.

You say you’re wary of involving other musicians, yet clearly most of the artists whose work you love (e.g. Björk) manage to involve other people without diluting their own sense of identity. Do you think this is just down to a lack of confidence on your part (maybe about losing control) because you’ve only ever worked on your own musically, or is it more a point of principle that the only channel for the boys to enter the world is via you?

I think bits of both. The fact that I have not done it before, of course, does not help. Were I to work with other people, I know I would at least feel better about it… not necessarily change my mind, but feel better. I think in the early days I just got too fed up with people telling me I should play guitar and write songs about how much I love women. It’s weird, that whole thing is totally arrogant and disgusting of me but also comes from a total lack of confidence. To write with someone means them seeing you playing the same four bars for half an hour before you get it right.

When & where are your next live performances? Do you have any plans to record new material?

I chose a really bad time of year to move city and book shows, so sadly no shows at the moment. I am in negotiations with the Ginglik [a club in Shepherds Bush] and also hoping my teacher will invite me to play at his yearly charity concert at St George’s Church in Brighton. There are eleven boys to record, ten of which were written since Some Strings Attached. One of them is older, but did not really fit that record. This comes back to my “other musician” quandry. I would hate to look back on something and think I was not bold enough…

Whatever short-term obstacles life might happen to throw in the way of booking more gigs or recording a second album’s worth of songs, I suspect that lack of courage will not be an issue. Beneath that cool, measured, occasionally self-deprecating exterior clearly lies an uncompromising character of considerable focus and persistence. Hopefully 2008 will see him settling into London and moving forward with his unique brand of creativity. The boys deserve nothing less.

Further reading & listening

• MySpace: Michael McLinn
• SongMeanings: Michael McLinn
• Flickr: live at Monkey Chews on 25 March 2008
• Hydragenic: Seeds And Sparks 2

This interview took place in January 2008 and was originally published in issue 4 of DrunkenWerewolf magazine.