Music and Mental Health
Turin Brakes - Olly Knights
I was introduced to the music of Turin Brakes in 2001 when a friend left an un-cased CD of their debut album: 'The Optimist LP' (an acoustic based album that received a Mercury Music prize nomination) in my room. When I listened to it I couldn't be sure whether it was male or female singing; I couldn't tell if they were American or British; they were a mystery to me. And it remained that way for a while. It turned out that Turin Brakes are made up of Olly Knights (singer/guitarist) and Gale Paridjanian (lead guitars and more), both from London. 'The Optimist LP' has such soul, such feeling; it is one of the few records that has made me cry as it seemed to tug on something within that I was dealing with. Turin Brakes second album 'Ether Song' contained singles: 'Long Distance' and 'Pain Killer' and drew the band into the mainstream attracting them a large faithful fan-base. I've seen Turin Brakes play live over the years and it's always been a pleasure to hear the most exciting guitar parts to come from an acoustic guitar in years, coupled with that voice. That voice that cuts right through everything; through the full band, through the smell of stale beer, through the crowd noise, and straight to that place inside that connects me to such real music.
I was invited to Turin Brakes Brixton studio (where they are recording their 5th studio album) to talk to lead singer Olly about his views on how beneficial music is to mental health; where Turin Brakes are at the moment; and that voice. I was led into the working studio where many of Turin Brakes songs have been recorded. It was cold and so Olly turned on the equipment in preparation for recording later and to heat the place up a little. He was relaxed and friendly which made our conversation easy. There was no self importance with Olly, no attitude or arrogance that can come with musicians. Olly appeared filled with gratitude for having the job he does. This reassured my view that I feel in touch with such a band as Turin Brakes because of a shared love for true music, and that they're in it for the music- not for ego-gratification. Olly made me some green tea in a Turin Brakes mug and we sat down and talked about the importance music has in his life.
I asked Olly what it is about music that influences our mind state?
'It's definitely true that music opens up a window somehow. I always think if people are like wells and their inner feelings are like this murky water really deep down; music can dredge that water up and bring it to the surface. But I think that it's often a combination. What does it the best for me a lot of the time is music combined with lyrics, but not necessarily music that tells too much of an obvious story. With musicians or singer/songwriters that tell really strong narratives- I almost go into book reading mode and I feel like I'm just listening to a story. What I like are songwriters like Joni Mitchell, who used to do this brilliantly: where they're slightly ambiguous and you're not completely sure what it is that they're really saying on a surface level, but on a deep level it just seems to speak to you really quickly and even your bones know what this person is saying. It exercises your emotions. It gets people to feel things they couldn't possibly explain to other people. That's what the good stuff does to me, the stuff I'll then find on iTunes and surround myself with in my life. And that's the kind of music I've always tried to make. I have always felt that writing music has been a big help to me but I also know it can be to other people, or a certain type of other person that might see the world the same way I do. It definitely is powerful stuff.'
I asked Olly about the benefits of writing:
'There is a catharsis in it. What I try to do is to avoid it being so personal that it's un-relatable anymore. When you feel like you're writing for other people, not just yourself, you've got to be careful. If you write it like it's only for yourself it can be too much of a closed book. I think there's a balance; when you feel like you're writing for other people you've got to translate your own feelings to a more open way of reading them, so it isn't too cathartic. Something I've learnt about my own writing over the years is to take it one step away for myself- so the process where I might write really personal stuff, like it's gobbledygook, and then I try to translate it a little bit. I find when I don’t, it doesn't affect people the same way. Writing down how you feel is an amazing thing to do, as long as you're really, really honest. What I've found when I've written down how I'm feeling- if I'm feeling particularly screwed up over something, and I'm not even sure why- I'll write down a poem straight away and might think its rubbish and hate it. But I'll always remember to not just burn it or chuck it away, and at some other point later on when I've escaped that mood- it'll just blow me away, and it might be really beautiful and say a lot about what a human being may all be about. So it's a big help.'
The conversation continued in talking about using instruments to communicate feelings:
'You can pick up a guitar one day and not seem to transmit anything at all- and I find it best to put the guitar down or just forget about it and go for a walk or make a cup of tea. And other days you just seem to channel the universe through your fingers and it can be incredible. That's the magic; that's why some people become obsessed with learning an instrument and learning it to the point where you can control it rather than it control you. That is one of the biggest gifts you can give to yourself, or your parents can give you by encouraging you to do something. It's a really primal form of expressing. You can write a really beautiful melody on a guitar that just brings a tear to somebody's eye, or your own eye, or makes them feel really rushing or f***** up. That's the magic of music and there's no explaining it. To me it's a magical thing; I don't wanna know the nuts and bolts of why it works- it's just one of those great things we've been doing since we were occupying caves in one form or another. It's still almost as raw as that today. It's vibration- your body's feeling it, so I think with percussive hard music or music with a lot of bottom end- it can make you feel almost anxious. With psycho-acoustics- certain low frequencies they say: can make people see things. What they're actually doing is vibrating your retina so minutely that people see things in the corner of their eye. A lot of the time where there's been ghost sightings they'll go there with acoustic equipment and often they'll find that there are these odd low frequencies in buildings being generated from anything like the earth moving in a certain way or distant machinery. They'll often find the two things cross over. I've always loved that idea that you can induce hypnotic states with the right amount of bottom end. It's fascinating all that stuff. So it makes perfect sense that if someone plays the guitar it can make somebody cry or laugh or feel something.'
Lyrics
From my first listen, the lyrics from Turin Brakes have always stood out. As soon as I heard "Under Dog's" line: 'Save me, save me from myself'- I knew that I occupied similar head space and I felt understood. And where I was at that time: it was a huge relief. Olly's lyrics can show a vulnerability, a sensitivity, and an essence that show life is no walk in the park and things inside get rough. There's no surrender with Turin Brakes- there's always a retort, a persistence to persevere and they're by no means ever beaten- with their 3rd album's 'Last Clown' being a great example of this:
'Last Clown, drinking in the bar that's about to be closed down
A hero, I was in people's plans I was shaking their hands
I got lost in the world...'
With the last verse:
'If you see me walking around in the streets of your town
Don't feel for me, I got more peace of mind than you ever shall find
I was lost in the world, slow motion talking and diatribe talking
As bad as things be, I'm a natural survivor'
This is highlighted further with the title track of 2005's 'JackInABox':
'Oh no, my world is on fire
Someone get some water 'cos I think I'm gonna burn
Hey Joe, I'm tasting all your flavours
Ain't no piece of cake
But life ain't dishing nothing I can't take'
I spoke to Olly about how it feels to sing such lyrics and what it is that he gets in touch with to produce such vocals, in particular 'New Star' from their 4th album 'Dark On Fire'.
'We started playing the melody to that song in a fire escape in Brooklyn New York in 1998. My sister used to live there and I went to visit her and Gale came down from playing in a band in Canada and we hung out for a couple of weeks. One night we were sitting on the fire escape outside my sisters apartment watching the sun go down and I started playing those chords and humming that melody and Gale was playing along to it and it got sealed as a sonic photograph of that time for me. It really seemed to strike a chord with me. 9 or 10 years later I started writing words to it and discovered a song in there. The words came after my wife was expecting our second child. The lyrics to that song were painting a picture of hope and belief in fresh new life, and life somehow winning over death. I think that's why lyrically that song has a natural strength, 'cos all human beings, whether they say they are or aren't, usually are concerned with those basic things of life and death. So if you tap into that in a song- it strikes a chord with you. It's an open song; it's not too obviously about that, and that's how I like my songs to work. Using the strength of the emotion but not necessarily just telling the tale that came with that emotion- to create something open and new for other people to wallow in and enjoy. It was one of those songs with just one man and a guitar- that's all that was needed. I really like that song as well. It's one of those ones that gets me even when I listen to it. (I mention when Olly sings about feeling shame the 2nd verse) That's a moment of real truth in the song and in me, and that moment where lyrics, music, and your soul, all cross paths and translate a real moment of truth. I think that moment in that song is probably the punctuation point- it's a confession.'
I asked Olly about his cutting voice and about the emotional release felt when singing in that way:
'Technically I've got a very cutting voice. It can be a problem sometimes. It's the way my vocal chords are. I can hit this point where it's very sibilant; it's got a top end to it. It literally cuts through other sounds. It's luck really that I've got a particular sound and I've learnt to use it. In terms of: 'is it emotional?'- It’s sometimes too emotional. I don't usually talk about this, but in context with this interview- I reached the point where I didn't want to gig anymore because singing in the way I do- it's so emotional that it feels like I'm beating myself up in front of people. I can't just go through the motions- I've tried. I've attempted to dull it down with alcohol and different forms of prescription drugs. I've had times when I've lost myself in a song so much in front of people, and it's heightened so much when you're in front of an audience- that it becomes too much and I feel like I'm going to drop dead. I feel like I'm going to have a massive panic attack; I'm pushing all these buttons in myself in front of people that I don't always wanna push. It's hard enough doing that on your own, but doing that in front of maybe 1000 people all intensely looking at you and feeling intense, and the emotion is so intense that it can become completely overwhelming. Often I'll be nervous before a gig because of that feeling, and wonder how far it's gonna go- how far are my emotions gonna stretch. I'm good at looking like that's not happening, but deep down I'm freaking out half the time. Sometimes I come off stage feeling elated and sometimes I feel psychologically damaged by the experience; I've opened myself up in such a way that's left me reeling and I'm shaking. But I'm happier doing that as a job than working in a bank. So I'll take the risk of panic attacks.'
I joined Olly when Turin Brakes are going through a period of transition. They parted with EMI earlier in the year and it seems a welcome relief. Not having someone from the label stand in their studio telling them they must produce a hit single has produced an air of freedom, that their creativity cannot be stifled by label pressures. Olly kindly wrote out the lyrics to 'New Star' and we listened to 'Next Messiah' from the album 'Acid Tongue' by Jenny Lewis before I left Olly to his setting up of equipment ready for the days recording.
Interview by Chris Phillips.
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