Neil Halstead's music defies explanation but is beautiful nonetheless
by Joe Tarr
As introspective as Neil Halstead's music is, it can be tough getting him to illuminate what motivates or inspires his art. Speaking over a cell phone from the United Kingdom, the leader of Mojave 3 apologizes that he's having a bad day.
Perhaps it's also that he expresses himself through his music—the songs are what they are and there really isn't much else to say about them. But ask him about his other passion—surfing—and he suddenly becomes much more animated and articulate.
"It's just a really beautiful thing to do. You're out there in the water, and you know it's exciting. There's a spiritual side to it I really enjoy. You're in the moment," Halstead says. "I remember surfing certain places, like Morocco. Great waves every day. To me surfing in the evening or early morning is really great—there's something really calming about it."
You could draw parallels between surfing and his new solo album, Sleeping On Roads, which includes an illustration of a large wave about to crash into trees. The music doesn't have anything resembling the hyped-up energy of surf-rock king Dick Dale or the sweet pop infection of the Beach Boys. But Halstead's music is airy, delicate and fleeting. Like a wave that could swallow you, there's bleakness lurking underneath. If you float along on top of the songs, it's quite pleasant; delve inside and you might drown.
On "Hi-Lo and Inbetween," the piano seems to skate along the surface, and Halstead sings just slightly above a whisper: "Years ago I read a story about a man who had a plan/ He tied himself onto a balloon/ Cut the ties and tried to reach the moon/ Rescued by an airline pilot 15,000 feet above the world/ They dragged him down they wished him luck/ They hoped that he had learned his lesson well/ What could they say/ What could they say to make him feel OK?" Listening to it, you're not sure whether you're the guy floating away in the balloon or the one trying to catch him.
With "Martha's Mantra (For the Pain)" he plays guitar softly over the barely audible hum of an organ. The song is about a tryst, which despite its bliss couldn't quite mean enough, and ends up becoming sadomasochistic. "She closed her eyes and took my hand and said God might have a plan for me/ Making love in Martha's room, I felt like I could see through her to him/ But heaven is the place that's open when all the bars in town are closed/ Heaven is the place I never find/ The only thing I told her is that God would have no answer for my pain."
Halstead didn't start out making such moody, mopish stuff. His first band, Slowdive, was part of the noisy shoe-gazing movement of the early '90s (although Slowdive was on the pleasant, warm end of that spectrum). That band dissolved later in the decade, and Halstead formed Mojave 3 (along with Slowdive bandmates Rachel Goswell and Ian McCutcheon). Mojave is more of a folk band with some hints of country. His Mojave 3 and solo work is undeniably similar to the late Nick Drake. Halstead admits Drake's influence, but also counts Townes Van Zant, JJ Cale, Nick Cave, and Bob Dylan as influences.
There was no particular reason he decided to make a solo record last year, Halstead says, and Mojave 3 is still together (a new album is already in the works). "I didn't really think about it too much. I did a bunch of songs with some friends. It wasn't something I planned particularly."
Sleeping On Roads was recorded after Halstead broke up with his girlfriend, but he denies that's any kind of over-riding theme. Many of the songs were written five or six years ago, but never found their way onto a Mojave 3 record.
"A lot of [the songs] are fairly autobiographical. Most of the songs are about me, or about people I know. But I don't really feel it was a breakup album. I think the songs are about lots of different things. Some of them are about relationships.
As for that surfing comparison, well, perhaps it's a stretch, the work of some clueless writer trying to explain the inexplicable. "It's a different feeling—I wouldn't say you're in the same place. There's definitely an adrenaline rush to surfing and playing live," he says.
"For me it's a balance. I spend a lot of time touring so it's really nice to come home and relax. [Surfing] balances a fairly unhealthy way of living, which is what touring is....For me, both things are hugely enjoyable. I guess that's the parallel."
July 11, 2002 * Vol. 12, No. 28
© 2002 Metro Pulse
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