Q: English singer and songwriter, Beth Orton has released her fourth studio album - her first in three and a half years and it is called Comfort of Strangers. And we're about to have, hopefully, a comfortable conversation with Beth Orton. Are you ready to chat it up?
A: I'm ready to chat it up.
Q: Worms seems like a great way to start Comfort of Strangers, because it deals with faith and love, which are a couple of the major issues on your album. Is the worm in the song a witness to the Garden of Eden?
A: No. It's just a joke that somebody told me.
Q: Because, romance, spirituality and nature, they course through most of the songs on this album. Did you set out to write about those things or did the threads come together as the album came together?
A: I mean, basically, that's my inspiration always. Nature is a huge inspiration for me. Relationships, love and faith and lack of faith, it definitely -- those are threads that I often find myself pulling together.
Q: What is your writing process like? Do you carry around notebooks? Do you sing melodies into tape recorders?
A: I do all of that. And I like the idea of threads as well, because it's often -- I don't necessarily know the theme of my records, and I find that the themes come together. I do find that a lot of desperate threads get pulled together. Like thousands of things that just suddenly give meaning to what didn't necessarily seem to make any sense, I find sense in writing. And I think a way that I've found to describe it, which I really like, is -- is I'll find like a key phrase that either just pops in my head or I read or somebody says or something like that. And it becomes like a kind of an anchor or -- or like a magnet. And to that magnet come files. Like when I was a kid and wrote (things) down, because I did that when I was a kid, too. Then I'll go through life or the day or the week or the month or the year and I'll meet people along the way. Things will happen. I'll see a band or I'll see a film or read a book. And it will be like, oh, my God, that there ties in exactly to this other idea that I've got written down somewhere. And it just seems to be the process of actually writing something down suddenly makes it kind of hang in the air and makes it possible.
And I could have forgotten about this initial idea completely. And then suddenly, I'll remember it. And I'll be like, that makes sense to that. And then I think what happens is I'll play the guitar and something will come out, free association kind of just of the moment. And then that has the same affect, too. I'm like, oh, my God, that whole thing that I was writing there, that fits with this. And so it comes together that way. Other times, though, it just comes out straight, just with a guitar and just in the moment.
Q: So when you have this magnet up, does that mean that you're still tinkering with things in the studio, lines and lyrics?
A: I'm always tinkering. Not necessarily in the studio, but always in my head, always in the day or always -- I mean, it basically gives my life meaning, I think, to find meaning, if you know what I mean.
Q: The first song we heard, Worms, there's a line, "Well, you ain't got my faith, so best keep your belief." And then in the second song, Countenance, you sing about those who preach forgiveness while they're practicing revenge. What sparked or who sparked these feelings?
A: Well, when I was a kid, I always used to listen to songs and I would always think, this grownup singing about love, it always -- it never, to me, sounded like love and it never really sounded like they were being very grown up. And I used to just wonder why people bandied this word “love” about. Now, I think I feel the same about God, you know. There's all these people bandying the name “God” around and it doesn't seem to have anything to do with God or -- I suppose, to me, God is love. And it's just a teaching towards love. And I can't believe or understand how man betrays himself and creates this hatred from what essentially was -- was what, in my naïve and probably simplistic opinion, was just a teaching of love. So I think that's kind of what that's about.
Q: Beth, someone's countenance is -- it's their appearance, right, the expression on their face?
A: Yeah.
Q: Have you come across folks lately who are two-faced, but they're looks give away what they really mean?
A: But also, I think countenance, to me, is like -- it's like where you choose to walk. It's like where you choose to tic the box, which box you choose to tic. It's just something that you cannot hide. It's like a tic. It's like a mannerism that gives everything away. You can say what you want, but something else is giving something away completely. And to me, it's just a beautiful analogy or metaphor for just -- for me, what's kind of going on. You know, people can sit around and say what they want, but if they...
Q: Their vibe gives it away?
A: Something always gives it away. There's always something that gives away the truth. And I love that about humans. I love the fact that we pick up on that stuff. Like last night, we were talking about what is it in music, what is it that makes something work? What is it that resonates in a person that cuts through all hype, all cynicism, all -- just something that makes -- everybody responds to certain things. And I think that happens all the time in individual situations. We're always like picking up on the other little bits that -- and I love all that.
Q: It seems like you're optimistic here. I mean, at least in parts, because you say, "Man will do to man, but nature's got it all in hand."
A: Yeah. I mean, it's not terribly optimistic, because, I think, the greatest disasters that have befallen this world are man-made, even when they're natural. If you go back, it's what we're doing to the planet, we're making a very diseased planet that's going to react. It's like got zits and boils that are going to explode and pop. And that's a pretty sort of dumb way of explaining it, but you know what I mean.
Q: It seems like it lately, with all the natural disasters and things.
A: Yeah. Yeah. And I suppose it's not necessarily positive on one level, but on another level, it does just -- you know, man, at the end of the day, can just be flicked off this earth. And I think the earth will survive -- nature will rebuild. Whether man is part of that or not, I don't know. But --
Q: Nature's got it all in hand.
A: Definitely.
Q: The first couple of songs from Comfort of Strangers clock in at about two minutes. And in fact, the whole album has a generous 14 songs, but lasts under 45 minutes. Was it a case of the songs dictating their lengths and you only put down what was needed?
A: I think, the whole attitude with this thing was like to get rid of anything that wasn't needed. I think another good analogy is the fact that I wanted this record to be recorded analog. I had rules. I wanted it analog, I wanted it live. I wanted to use all my vocals there and then with the band. I didn't want to come in later or cold and like, you know, horrible and go, "Okay. Well, now I'll do my vocal." It's just like, I can't bear it anymore. I just wanted to make it very vital and nothing extra. Everything essential,
Q: Do you know that word, "parsimony"?
A: No. I love words like that. What's that mean?
Q: Well, some people might think it means being cheap, but it's really getting the most out of the least.
A: Right.
Q: Like, brevity is the soul of wit. It's a parsimonious attitude. So it seems like that's what you took to this, to get the most out of, you know -- it's to the bone.
A: Yeah, to the bone, definitely.
Q: On the cover of the album is a painting. What can you tell me about the painting and why it represents Comfort of Strangers?
A: The painting was my mom and dad's. And it's been in my house forever. And basically, for me, there's just something about this. There's the double rainbow. And I'm not quite sure of the religious significance, but I know there is one. And I'm trying really hard. So anyone who knows. That man we met this morning at the Café, he probably knows. He'll be on that -- what did he call it, Google? No, the other one. Anyway -- encyclopedia of something. Anyway, so one of the rainbows is really definite and one of them is a little shadowy. But to me, it's just like-- it's just beautiful, those two little rainbows hanging out together. And I don't know, now, I'm being all twee but it's just -- you know what? It's really hard. If you ask me why I called the album Comfort of Strangers, I'm not quite sure I could tell you. But I feel it and I know it's right. Like, I didn't think that initially should be the name of the album. And then once I realized it was, it was the most obvious thing in the world.
And it's like the painting. It just spoke to me. It summarized for me. I don't know, that kind of encapsulated somehow the essence of what this means to me. Maybe it's something about the fact that those rainbows can just fade away. And one of them already is, almost. But it's there. I suppose, it some ways the comfort idea was, we take comfort from quite strange sources. And I don't mean to be punning on the word "strange", but, you know, there's the idea that something that's so, kind of transitory as a rainbow...
Q: The sound of the organic percussion on the song Comfort Of Strangers, it reminds me of a manual typewriter and then the sound of the carriage returning. It's almost like you're writing a letter to people. People used to do that before email. Are you a computer person or might you actually put pen to paper and write someone a letter?
A: I am a pen to paper person, but I do use computer. And I do think writing a letter is essentially the most loving, beautiful thing you can do. But, I have to say, I do pop a few emails out here. And they're probably to my own detriment. But, I think letter writing isthe source, though, because it's like, when you put it in your own writing, in your own hand, that's when you know if you're talking the truth or not. And that's just such a scary medium, that whole like email, like pump, pump, pump, oh, shit. You know.
Q: This new album comes almost ten years after your first album. It's your fourth studio album. And in the past, you've been given to collaboration, artists like William Orbit, the Chemical Brothers. This time, your main co-conspirator is your producer and multi-instrumentalist, Jim O'Rourke, who we know best from working with Wilco and Sonic Youth. Why did you choose to work with Jim?
A: Well, essentially, it was after hearing Halfway to the Threeway.
I heard his guitar playing on that and I was just like, who is that playing guitar?
Q: That's his album?
A: That's his album, yeah, one of his solo records. And it's just stunning. I was looking to rework a song that hadn't really been panning out the way I wanted it to and I thought maybe he'd be a good person. Also, I was looking for someone to mix something for me. And ten years ago, Jim O'Rourke and I met. And neither of us can remember who introduced us, but we met in New York -- or was it ten years? Like eight years. Whenever Trailer Park was released. Nine years ago. And he gave me a CD of songs of -- that he produced and so on and so forth. And then I promptly went and forgot all about it, until last September, when I heard this record. And I thought, oh, my God, I wonder if he remembers me. I wonder if he'd be interested in working with me, perhaps, and hearing what I'm doing, at least.
So I found his email address, somehow, and I sent him an email. Very apologetic, you know, "I don't know if you remember me." And he sent one back. And he was absolutely flattered that I picked up on his guitar playing. And I think he was really pleased about that.
So we met in January, a year ago, almost to the day, I think, and I played him like four or five songs. And he'd sit and go very quite after each one. And then he'd talk for about 20 minutes, half an hour on what was wrong, what I could better, what was this, what was that. And it was just like, "whoa, okay". And he was just like, "Give me five days. Give me five days, I'll put a band together. I want to produce you." I was like, "Come on then!" And we did that. We actually did it in five days, as well. We did actually record in five days. We then overdubbed for two days and mixed for a week.
Q: And that was your mandate going in: sparse, spontaneous?
A: Yes.
Q: Quick.
A: Live. Very live, very, very -- I wanted to make a gospel solo album. His thing was my voice. He felt that my voice hadn't been recorded properly. He wanted to hear my voice recorded in a certain way. And he wanted to hear my songs be served to the best of the ability, I suppose. I mean, literally, we rehearsed for four nights. And I'd just play him a song and he picked the drummer, Tim Barnes. And Jim played bass. And the two of them would be speaking in tongues, you know, some type of telepathic communication. And then they'd just go, "Okay. How about this?" I mean, you know, Comfort of Strangers is the same thing. It's just like, play it with your hands, so he'd start playing with his hands. And he was like, "We're going to build it up. We'll build it up in the studio." And so we all did our claps, you know. And everything was like that. Everything was organic.
And so when we went in, there were loose ends here and there, musically, and with arrangements. And it wasn't until we'd just record it and literally go with the first or second take. Like, Worms, I was in the piano bit, like the little sectioned-off piano room and waiting to do something. And I was just playing that song, Worms, because I wasn't really sure it was finished yet. So I was playing it. And they were like, "What the hell is that?" And I was like, "Oh, it's just this song." And they -- just immediately they -- Jim picked up the bass. They looked at each other and just started playing. They knew exactly what to play. It was bizarre. And that's -- that is like the second take. And that's like probably the second time they played with me on it.
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Beth on inspirations 
