Neil
Tennant and Chris Lowe have had more than thirty Top 20 hits and comfortably
outlasted their '80s peers. Why? Josh Sims speaks to them exclusively.
Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe sit eating, respectively, a Fry's Cream and
a Cadbury's Milk Chocolate bar, rustling wrappers and licking lips between
giving forth on the state of pop. They have seen the changes, tastes come
and go. They, at least, are still here, albeit with less hair and, perhaps
unsurprisingly, more waistline now. It has been twenty years since an architecture
student from Blackpool and a music journalist from Newcastle met in a Kings
Road electronics shop and, as the Pet Shop Boys, in 1986 launched their
original brand of Litpop - insightful, provocative and often somehow sad
lyrics set to rhythmic computerised sympho
nics. Or "Debussy
to a disco beat", as one of their songs helpfully summarises.
The forty-something Boys are in ebullient mood. Tennant, the front man of
two, who undercuts and yearns - or, depending on your sensibility, whines
irony - over the music, speaks with an eloquence rare in the pop world.
Even Lowe, who created the now clichéd Silent Man at Synthesiser
pop posture and is known for his preference for staying in the shadows,
is chock full of a friendly energy usually smothered by hat and dark glasses.
They have finished their new album, entitled Release, and selected the single
"Home and Dry", about a lover's inability to settle until his
partner is back safely after "all those dark and frantic transatlantic
miles". Although both live in London, the album was recorded in Tennant's
homeland of the North-East and is different for it. "I don't think
we'd have made it if it had been recorded in London," says Lowe. "There
are a lot more slower tracks on it and although it sounds a cliché,
it's more personal. And there's no irony whatsoever. Not unless Neil's working
at a very subtle level I'm not aware of."
The album, the Pet Shop Boys' eighth, will no doubt rack up impressive sales,
be well received and add to their impressive list of more than thirty Top
20 hits to date - no mean feat for a duo who have comfortably outlasted
their '80s peers. Nor has that been all they can claim: collaborations have
taken in remixing of Blur and Bowie and the writing of career-reviving songs
for Liza Minnelli and the late Dusty Springfield. Interesting projects have
included their visually-striking theatrical tours, film work for The Crying
Game and Scandal, as well as their own disappointing movie It Couldn't Happen
Here ("That doesn't count! It was nothing to do with us!" chimes
in Tennant). More recently, their musical Closer to Heaven, got a pasting
from some critics; unfairly judged, Lowe suggests, "as though it was
intended to be another Phantom or draw that kind of audience". The
critics haven't dissuaded them from plans to write another next year.
"The thing is that we've never worried about being cool," explains
Tennant. "To me being cool is about not really engaging with what's
going on and we've always been too engaged and too poppy to be cool. I don't
think you should worry about credibility. Popularity is another thing. Certainly
the Pet Shop Boys aren't anything like as popular as they were in the late
'80s. It's the nature of pop music. No one is as popular as they were ten
years ago. And when you don't sell sex it's very difficult to have longevity
and mass popularity. Take Madonna. Forty-two. Still looking good. And still
selling it."
Lowe will go further. Towards a perfected double-act, when Lowe does speak,
it is with a passion that not only underpins the music but counters Tennant's
dry, wry consideration. "I hate the whole concept of credibility. It's
a really negative force," he says. "It's responsible for all the
crap put out by Radio 1. They're obsessed with credibility and consequently
they can't play anything that is actually good for fear of not being credible.
No one can listen with their ears anymore. They listen with thoughts of
others' reactions."
[ The Pet Shop Boys remain alone with their pioneering blend of house and
hip-hop and a willingness to tackle subjects as diverse as adultery, consumerism
and the homoeroticism of trucking ]
Whether founded on their time-tested abilities, a disregard for industry
opinion or perhaps a Northern tendency towards straight-talking, these pop
protectors have adopted outspokenness as Pet Shop Boys policy, seemingly
without harm. Indeed, through their various ventures the Pet Shop Boys have
somehow maintained commercial as well as critical success. They have unobtrusive
celebrity - Tennant occasionally gets asked for his autograph in the Kings
Road's Marks & Spencer's - but also a cult and often obsessive fan base
that means they could play to an audience of 3,000 just about anywhere in
the world, "from San Francisco to Moscow to Taipei, with the exception
of the Caribbean," Tennant adds cryptically.
But where the duo have spent most of their working lives is their adopted
home of London; Tennant in Chelsea, Lowe in Highbury. It is a place neither
can imagine leaving, bar for New York, of which Lowe gets welcome reminders
when he sees the Canary Wharf development and the bustle of which Tennant
escapes by walking the square mile's quieter lanes to find himself in evensong
at St Paul's. "I love just wandering around London, particularly around
about five o'clock when the shops are still open and people are finishing
work. It reminds me of when I had a proper job," he adds.
Familiarity has also thrown its problems into focus. "If anything happens
it's going to happen in London. Its entire infrastructure needs a massive
input of investment but no one wants to pay for it," says Lowe, getting
heated again. "Everyone has a DVD player but no one wants to pay for
the trains or NHS. And no political party is prepared to say it either.
So we're both thinking of moving from London, ha ha. That's great for a
magazine that wants to attract people to London! Go and live in Inverness!
No, London is fantastic. Really. Just mind the needles and the street crime."
While love may fuel the rest of the pop engine, it is just these kinds of
issues that may crop up as a pithy one-liner squeezed between two samples.
Certainly, the Pet Shop Boys remain alone with their pioneering blend of
house and hip-hop and a willingness to tackle with wit subjects as diverse
as adultery, consumerism and the homoeroticism of trucking (one track on
their new album even imagines that Eminem is gay). This follows Tennant's
view that a pop song should try and say something that has not been said
before, or at least to say something old in a new way. Sadly, few even attempt.
Indeed, the Pets apply the same critical enthusiasm to the ephemeral world
they inhabit, that of pop, as they do to the capital.
[ That Pop Idol thing isn't pop. They're auditioning people to do cabaret,
people who will come on and sing "You are the Wind Beneath My Wings"
]
"Pure pop still seems to be based around the idea that there's only
one kind of song you can write - 'you're the queen of my heart'," says
Tennant. "But what you have now is a lack of talent driven by hype.
That Pop Idol thing isn't pop. They're auditioning people to do cabaret,
people who will come on and sing "You are the Wind Beneath My Wings".
Dangerously, that has come to be regarded as pop music in the last five
years. Pop music has been hijacked by showbusiness.
"That said, there's always some good music around," he adds. "And
it's usually by people who are really into what they're doing, who don't
just see it as a career but as a personal and musical exploration, as taking
a risk. And we've taken a lot of risks over the years."
The Pet Shop Boys headline at the NME Carling 50th Anniversary Shows at
the London Astoria on February 14th. The single Home and Dry is released
in March. The new album, Release, (Parlophone) is released on March 25.
PET SHOP BOY'S LONDON
WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE
Club?
Neil: The End, depending on who's DJing, Heaven or talking to friends in
the Departure Lounge.
Chris: Arsenal FC.
Place for breakfast?
Neil: I only eat breakfast at home!
Chris: At home or in a café round the corner.
Walk?
Neil: From Chelsea, where I live, into the West End, via Belgravia, The
Mall and Charing Cross Road. London is so varied and beautiful.
Chris: Back from the West End to mine in Clerkenwell.
Shop (any kind)?
Neil: The secondhand bookshops in Cecil Court or Tower Records, Piccadilly
Circus.
Chris: Selfridges, Oxford Street.
View?
Neil: From Waterloo Bridge at night. The north side of the river, illuminated
and reflected in the Thames, looks amazing.
Chris: From my flat across London.
Place to drink?
Neil: The Groucho Club (sorry, private members).
Chris: The pubs around Soho.
Fancy restaurant?
Neil: St John, Clerkenwell. They claim to specialize in "nose to tail
eating" but I just eat the bits in between. Some of the best food in
London.
Chris: Alastair Little in Frith Street (Soho).
Place for a cheap and cheerful bite?
Neil: The brasserie on Brewer Street, Soho. I can't remember its name but
it's great for a quick lunch.
Chris: Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Cinema or theatre?
Neil: The Curzon Soho shows the best selection of films and you can get
a good cup of coffee in their café.
Chris: Odeon Leicester Square.
Museum?
Neil: The Sir John Soane Museum, Lincoln's Inn Fields. It's the 18th-century
house of an architect, filled with his collection of paintings and sculpture.
Very atmospheric. Then there is the National Gallery and both of the Tates.
Chris: Don't go very often but the Tate Modern.
What do you do on Sundays?
Neil: Go for a run by the river. Meet friends to see a film and then have
dinner.
Chris: Recover.
Go Home © 2002 Electric Ink. All rights reserved.
|