Beatmag Q&A - Mick Karn

Referred to by some as the ‘best bassist in Britain’, Mick Karn has been quietly releasing a steady stream of acclaimed solo albums since the demise of new romantic pioneers Japan in 1982. Although he remains best known for his phenomenal fretless bass skills, he’s gone on to incorporate ghosts of Motown, world music, folk and pure pop into his unique and ever-evolving sound. He’s about to release his seventh solo album, ‘Three Pieces’, a shimmeringly accessible but also strangely surreal collection of his latest work. Lee Smith catches up

You obviously care deeply about your music and the way it’s formed. Has your latest album been a labour of love?

Mick Karn: “Oh, absolutely, I think that any musician, if you ask them what the best work they’ve done is, they’ll say their most recent album. That stands to reason. So, yeah, as far as I’m concerned, it’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Does making music for a living get any easier with time?

MK: “Umm…I’d say it doesn’t actually, it depends what you’re aiming at. I think for your pop guys, aiming for the charts, it probably gets easier, because you begin to understand what people go for and pick and choose those bits as you go on with your career. But personally I try and stay away from anything I’ve done before. You have to get yourself into this forced mind set of it being something new, and not think about what you did on the last album.”

You’ve been quite productive since the turn of the century, releasing an album almost every year. Was there any particular reason for this increase?

MK: “Not really. To tell you the truth I’ve always been like that, and I’ve always wanted to be in the position – and it’s a standard position for any rock musician - of releasing an album, then touring it, then going back to write another album. But I never found myself in that situation because it was difficult to find companies ready to release another album when one’s finished. So there was always a three or four year gap between albums which I would spend trying to find a label that would release the next album. Now, thanks to the internet, I have a personal website, and things have become a lot more independent. Things have become a lot better for musicians like myself.”

You were a member of the London Symphony Orchestra as a child. Have you ever hankered for the discipline of an orchestra since?

MK: “No, I haven’t. I was quite glad to get out of that. But then again, the one thing I would have enjoyed is the constant work. You know, they must lead quite an exciting life, in that they’re always travelling, always being looked after. But it’s also a bit like being in an army or permanent school or something like that. There’re freedoms I’d much rather have.”

Would you say your music is ‘difficult’, both to make and to understand?

MK: “Yeah, it’s difficult for audiences to understand, I don’t expect anyone to get it first off. It’s alright for me because I hear it about six million times and it’s already become boring to me. When I’m in a room playing it to somebody, and I can see the look of confusion on their face, I realise that it’s very different when you listen to it for the first time. When I find that people are listening to it and are buying it, it makes it all the more rewarding that it’s making sense to somebody, somewhere.”

Is the bass still your first love?

MK: “Yes. I went through along period where I was trying to push it to one side, but I feel closer to it now than I have for a long time.”

In past interviews you’ve hinted that you wouldn’t be averse to working with your former band members from Japan again. How do you feel about that now?

MK: “Well, I feel the same. I think it would be very difficult thing to happen – I don’t think there’s much chance of it happening, that’s what I’m trying to say. For all four of us to agree to do that would be nigh-on impossible, I think. But there’s something I’d really, really enjoy about being on stage with them again, and I’d enjoy playing the old Japan songs again, with my fellow bandmates. That was an enjoyable period of my life, and I’d like to experience it again.”

What are you most proud of in your career so far?

MK: “That’s a difficult one. I think the one overall thing that I’m most proud of …I could say every album I’ve made and the sculptures I do, but in a nutshell the one thing that amazes me is that I’ve been able to survive as a solo artist, for – well, next year it will be 30 years. I started in 1977 as a professional. When I sit down and write now, I think ‘how have I managed to do that for 30 years?’ I’m very proud of the fact that I have.”

And what was your biggest regret?

MK: “A big regret is that we didn’t make one more Japan album. It would have been really interesting to see what would have happened after ‘Tin Drum’, and which direction we would have taken. I’m really curious to see where that direction would have gone next. Plus, we only managed to get the success we’d always wanted with that album, but by then we’d split up. It would have been nice to have made a bit of an impact in America, which we never managed to do.”

What scares you?

MK: “Heights. And spiders.”

Do you think it’s getting harder to make so-called ‘world-music’ appeal to new audiences?

MK: “Yes I do. I think it’s become a little bit clichéd. I live in Cyprus and that’s where I was born. Here, it’s very heavily influenced by Arabic music because of the location – much closer to Egypt than Europe. I grew up listening to that music and it’s quite difficult not to incorporate it. But if you sit down with that mindset of ‘world music’ you get a bit stale, you’ve heard it all before, and it’s a bit limiting, to be honest. European scales are much wider scales to work from. I do think a lot of world music has become very stale.”

If you could work with any musicians, living or dead, who would they be?

MK: “I’d really like to be David Bowie’s bass player for an album. And Brian Eno, I’d like to work with him.”

Do you ever listen to any contemporary music?

MK: “You may have heard me say before, but I just don’t listen to music. It’s a terrible thing to say. The only place is in the car, on the radio. I’m always surprised when people tell me that bands have been influenced by me or other members of Japan because I don’t know who they are, I’ve never heard of them.  It’s a big compliment to know that people are influenced, but I can’t comment further than that.”

Do you ever miss the trappings of super-stardom?

MK: “I miss the freedom of having record companies do whatever we wanted. I miss that sense of power. That’s the part I miss. I like having my privacy and being in control of my life, but I do miss having the backing of a heavyweight major.”

What’s most important to you – performing or producing?

MK: “I actually enjoy performing most of all, even though I haven’t done that much of it. Again, it’s the problem of trying to find labels that are willing to back a lengthy tour. That’s something that I really miss, because it’s the most enjoyable part, the direct communication with the audience and being able to see the looks on their faces when I’m playing. So that’s more important to me, performing.”

Are you affected by what other people think of your music?

MK: “I’d like to say that I’m not influenced by it at all, but I think I must be, because I came across an envelope the other day full of reviews that Virgin gave me when Rain Tree Crow (short lived Japan ‘re-union’ project) released their album. And I haven’t actually opened it up and read anything, so somewhere in my mind I’m putting it off in case it does upset me.”

Would you ever quit the music industry altogether?

MK: “To be honest, I’ve been through that phase a couple of times before, when you think ‘why am I doing this, maybe I should concentrate on something else’. But there’s something about music that draws me back time and time again. I don’t think I could ever leave it now. And that’s something any budding musician should be aware of – it’s much more difficult to get out of music than it is to get in.”