Monocled Alchemist

CHRIS BOHN talk talks toto The The, PETER ANDERSON thinks it’s a stupid joke

Article published in NME, 9th October, 1982

The The | The Definitive Article | THE THE? An agitated stutter? No, the definitive article, boasts The one and only The Matt Johnson with a cheeky, if none too convincing grin.

Though The The —founded as a duo, expanded into a four-piece and finally shrunk to its present singular state — is Matt alone, the group still suffers from internal conflict. Indeed, it — he — is wracked by self-doubts, even now, when things couldn’t be better.

But then, if he had any more confidence in himself he would have settled for just Matt Johnson, the signature he put to one of last year’s more neglected LPs ‘Burning Blue Soul’.

“The reason I re-adopted the name The The,” clarifies Matt, “was so I’d be able to put a barrier between people and myself. I dunno why, but I just like to have it there. Partly because people tend to be put off when they see the name of a solo artist, I suppose. It kind of weakens the impression. Also by calling me The The, it allows me more flexibility, styles will constantly change, anything can actually happen. The The —the ultimate thing. The definitive . . . ”

The The | The Definitive Article

Which isn’t to say he’s trying to hide anything. On the contrary, his songs are almost intimately confessional —without being excessively self-indulgent or particularly purgative. Instead, they register his naive capacity to be amazed by the world and his struggle to make sense of it. The music is correspondingly inquisitive, thirsty for new — at least to him — textures, which he discovers through fresh, brash fusions of acoustic and electronic instruments.

If at first they sound familiar, they are not quite what they seem. His forthcoming 12-inch ‘Uncertain Smile’, released by Stevo’s Some Bizzare via CBS, exemplifies his approach. A disconsolate, unrequited love song, Matt’s brittle blue tenor describes his melancholy condition, unashamedly inviting the listener to dwell in it while luxuriating in the music’s lazy flow; yet the listener leaves it at the other end perversely bright and refreshed.

North London rooms

Matt Johnson’s presence is similarly invigorating. Despite the introspective nature of his songs, Johnson is a cheerfully garrulous talker, whose nervous, non-stop banter begins from the moment we enter his few North London rooms and spin dizzily through countless anecdotes, quips and ideas, converting fret into self-effacing comic monologue. Should I have expected anything different?

“Well, years ago I used to bore meself an’ everyone else worrying about things,” he confides, “but people don’t really wanna know. They go off to the toilet and never come back! So I got to thinking people don’t wanna put on music and think, oh no, this is terrible. But on the other hand you get some reassurances through recognition. Like I used to get some from reading Sylvia Plath, whose stuff is a lot more extreme than me. Like The Bell Jar, even though it had a happy ending — excepting she killed herself after that —well, I thought it was great. Because I could really relate to that, I felt more comfortable . . .

The The | The Definitive Article

“I had this really terrible flu once,” he continues, “thought, fucking hell, I got consumption. I was in bed sweating, my head moving so fast, and for some reason I picked up Nausea by Jean Paul Sartre, and again because I could relate to its agitated state, I felt consoled.”

The point being?

“I would like to do music which has that uplifting effect, but which at the same time people can be drawn into and think ‘Oh this is great!’ ”

Burning Blue Soul

Though the LP he’s currently recording continues the self-explorations of ‘Burning Blue Soul’ — “it’s probably more introverted in a way, because it’s analysing the things I did on the first one and slagging them off!” — its buoyancy indicates that morbid introspection isn’t Matt’s natural condition.

“It’ll probably be the conclusion of that phase,” he assures. “Basically, once you’ve found out about yourself you start looking around at everything else. It’s a natural development. You can only harp on about a theme so long — you can’t keep singing ‘Well, I woke up this morning . . . ‘ which is what I’ve been doing in a way. I see myself changing a lot, becoming a lot more cynical.”

Is ‘Uncertain Smile’ and the whole CBS/Some Bizzare episode a first step? Not really. Confused and intimidated by big money matters, Matt simply left Bizzaro Stevo to handle the business side, which he did with his customary baffling logic. Through some inexplicable dealing he landed Decca with ‘Uncertain Smile’s’ £8000 recording costs and after a midnight rendezvous involving CBS’ Maurice Oberstein and a pair of policewomen atop a lion in Trafalgar Square he clinched a contract worth £40,000 to The The.

The The | The Definitive Article

“Stevo’s a genius, in his own way,” marvels Matt. “He can turn record companies upside down. His appearance immediately unsettles them! And he’s not blase. He could have made a fortune signing up reproductions of Soft Cell, but instead he’s always pushing forward looking for new things.”

After three years on the dole and another three spent releasing records into obscurity —three LPs with The Gadgets, ‘Burning Blue Soul’, three singles and various compilation contributions, all before his 21st birthday — he’s ready to accept the breaks Stevo’s giving him. Predictably, his conscience hasn’t let his tormented soul enjoy the anticipatory thrill of a hit for free.

“I’ve been having weird dreams, almost nightmares lately,” he whispers, “now that everything’s started going really well and all. The other night I was in me bedroom, which is like a little coffin anyway, and I started dreaming I’d sold myself to the devil! I was thinking I was going to die, like all these other people who’d died young and they’d sold themselves to the devil, too! Then the ceiling was coming down and I didn’t know what to do!”

Matt is neither Catholic, nor is he a drug user. “I don’t believe in them,” he asserts. “I was thinking ‘God, is this what I want?’ Then I remembered this line on the new album, which goes ‘I’m becoming trapped in a tomb of my own making’. So even at this preliminary stage I can see things getting out of control, decisions being made without you . . . ”

Foetus

If the industry is the devil, who might be his conscience?

“I don’t know whether you’ve heard him actually, but his name’s Foetus.”

Foetus! You mean You’ve Got Foetus On Your Breath!

Philip And His Foetus Vibrations? Foetus Over Frisco? Foetus the self-appointed scourge of the music business, that extraordinary masked avenger behind the underground hits ‘Tell Me, What Is The Bane Of Your Life?’ and ‘Custom Built For Capitalism’? — I don’t listen to anything else!

“Yeah? Innee great! I told Foetus once: fucking hell, you really put me to shame, you’re saying all the things I wish I could say, but I’m not . . . He’s a ten times more extreme version of how I feel. And he’s got the guts to do it, whereas me, I’m one foot in one camp one in the other, afraid to jeopardise things.”

No need to worry, Matt. The The might not be a fully formed Foetus, but it’s more than the germ of a great idea.