From the quirky charm of Soul Mining to the black despair of Burning Blue Soul, Matt Johnson has always been one of British pop's mavericks. His band The The have most recently recorded a series of Hank Williams cover versions. He talks to Rob Green about the industry, the technology... and the blues

For ten years or more, The The seem to have hovered on the brink of greatness. The slow, tortured evolution of the band probably owes more than a little to the temperament of its founder, Matt Johnson. Now domiciled in New York, Johnson is able to draw on 22 years' experience as a musician.

At the age of 11, his one ambition was to become a singer. Matt's first band, Roadstar, regularly performed in local town halls and youth clubs, with a repertoire consisting largely of cover versions. Amongst his early influences were the singles of Marc Bolan and T-Rex, and more importantly, The Beatles' White Album (the only pop album in his parents' collection).

Inspired by the book "So You Want To Be In The Music Business", by songwriter Tony Hatch, Johnson left school at the age of 15 to seek studio work. One of the book's appendices was a contacts section listing all the British record and publishing companies, and Johnson wrote to them all, eventually receiving a reply from a small publishing house called De Wolfe in London's Soho. He became the company tea boy, and nearly three years later, rose to become assistant engineer in De Wolfe's eight-track studio, responsible for recording library music and jingles. He also grabbed the opportunity to use the studio after hours, working on his own demos, an experience which taught Johnson basic production techniques.

Johnson developed the nucleus of The The at the age of 17, via an ad in NME which was answered by Keith Laws. Now a research psychologist at Cambridge, Laws suggested the name 'The The', and they went on to write music with Matt on vocals and guitar, complemented by Laws' classic WASP synth. In May 1979, with Tom Johnstone (now a respected journal cartoonist) as their manager. The The made their live debut as support to Serini Polini at the Africa Centre in Covent Garden. This was to be the beginning of a long and fruitful career, seeing Johnson collaborating with a variety of artists and musicians including Neneh Cherry, Sinead O'Connor, Zeke Manyika, Thomas Leer, Jim Foetus and Jools Holland.

Like many bands of the time, The The rode the coat-tails of punk, but it was never Johnson's first love. That accolade belonged to The Beatles' White Album and T-Rex's Ride A White Swan.

"I haven't listened to T-Rex for years, but if I do hear their stuff it always sounds remarkably fresh, and more innovative than most current British bands. That's a shame, because it was twenty years ago."

Matt considers his time as assistant engineer at De Wolfe's as an apprenticeship to what he's doing now.

"You've got to be determined about it. And you've got to accept that the money's not very good when you start out. There's no union to protect you, so they can pretty much rip you off. If you can use the studio for your own projects 'though, that compensates for it."

That period certainly gave Matt a grounding and an understanding he wouldn't otherwise have gained, and afterwards, he left the studio and went on the dole for three years.

"That was when I was concentrating on my own stuff and generally slogging away. It really was a labour of love, and it took ages to get a record deal. As it's so difficult, it tends to separate the wheat from the chaff. There's a lot of people who think they wouldn't mind doing it, as if it's easy, but it ain't. It's difficult. I didn't have money for years, and couldn't afford to buy instruments. But it didn't matter, that wasn't why I was doing it. I felt a freedom and passion, and I wasn't in a factory being bossed around by some arsehole!"

Matt did a couple of albums on independent labels, but they paid little or nothing. It's only now that he's earning from them. He signed a publishing deal in the early stages of his career, and in so doing signed away most of his rights.

"The first advice I would give to any band that gets a record deal, is see a lawyer. I think the musician's union can actually recommend lawyers that work cheaply, who are just starting out. There's still people being ripped off — I feel very strongly about the way the music industry is so unfair. It's a joke. Unless you're Michael Jackson, pretty much everyone is getting ripped off."

And that's not all. He despairs of the way the Monopolies Commission hounded those record companies who sold their CDs at low prices.

"In England, our CDs are a third more expensive than in America, and they've given no satisfactory explanation as to why that is. Also, when they came out, the artist was paid 50% royalties, even though CDs cost less to manufacture, and no-one's answered for this. I resent that as an artist, and as a member of the public. Who's going to gamble on buying a new CD at that price? It was pure greed and short-term, Thatcherite thinking. In the beginning, OK, they would make more money, but if someone reads a review of a new band and sees their CD for 14 quid, they'll think 'Oh, perhaps not'. Even if it's nine quid, they might take a chance on it. It's a psychological question."

I asked Matt what he had to say about making it as an artist in the music business.

"You need to have a hunger and passion. It's like soccer — 80% or more don't make it, but the people that do, have to suffer disappointment after disappointment. I was turned down by every independent company. Even Rough Trade turned me down three times. To put up with those knocks and carry on, you've got to be thick-skinned. Don't give up, if you really believe in yourself. That is the most important thing, don't let anyone affect your confidence. Even now, I write new stuff and get people slagging it off but it doesn't affect me anymore."

To Matt, satisfying himself is the most important thing, even if it perhaps wouldn't appeal to as many people.

"All people do with CD-ROM is shove the mouse around, and say 'Oh look, you can see her head moving'"

"It's the travelling rather than the arrival. To me, the happiest time is when I'm actually writing and recording the album, and it's still OK just before the release, but the worst time is afterwards. The only thing to do is get onto another thing, and then the pleasure comes. If you can make a living out of it, that's great."

The The began achieving a greater level of success after the Infected album. This, Matt claims, was largely due to the video album he made for it. It was shown twice on British Channel 4, and all over the place, spreading The The's name to living rooms in all comers of Europe and the US. Fair enough, but with the superior graphic technology available today, does Johnson plan on taking the visual idea any further?

"I do want to get more involved with the visual side of things, direct my own videos and perhaps make short films," replies Johnson. "I'm going to publish my own books as well. The first one will be lyrics and selected interviews from my own little publishing company."

Yes, OK, but what about (dare I say it!) multimedia CD-ROMs and the like?

"I might have a stab at that in the future. However, I was in the Sony building in New York, and they wanted me to do a CD-ROM thing for the Hanky Panky album. But I'd seen what they did with Mariah Carey and Pearl Jam, and it seemed like a waste of time. The memory is still not big enough to run full quality videos. All you get is little snippets. All people do with it now is shove the mouse around, and say 'Oh, look, you can see her head moving!' It irritates me."

Whilst in that meeting with Sony, Johnson had asked how much one of these CD-ROMs would cost. The answer was 30 dollars, around twice the cost of an audio CD. "Well, you're either going to be ripping off hard core fans or selling to spoilt brats", said Matt. "Who earns the extra 15 dollars?" (Room goes quiet). "Well, there's a few problems to be ironed out," replied Sony. "Who pays for the production, is it recoupable or non-recoupable?" "We haven't decided yet." From this conversation, Matt established that the production costs would be recoupable from the artist.

"The artists are the guinea pigs, and the fans are even bigger guinea pigs, while the record company coin in an extra 15 bucks for the CD!"

Contrary to popular belief, The The have never been a heavily synth-oriented set-up, but this doesn't mean that Matt is not into technology. In fact he's an equipment addict.

"I use a PowerBook for writing, and I've had computers for 7 or 8 years now. I use Cubase software, and have a bunch of little sound modules. I always prefer 'real' instruments unless it's samples. I like samples and fucked-up stuff that sounds more organic. And synth sounds are good for writing, but I wouldn't use them on tracks very much."

Matt doesn't believe in tape-based multitrack digital recording. He's more of a non-linear editing man.

"The way forward is hard-disk recording, because it opens up a whole new world of editing. I've used digital for years. I have a couple of Akai ADAMs, which predate the ADAT. The sound quality is fantastic but they're very unreliable. I use a bunch of samplers as well, but in a more corrective sense."

Matt uses a Studer 2" 16 track, which he believes is the best-sounding tape machine ever built. The The make use of modern digital technology alongside tubes and valve compressors, as Matt likes the warmth they produce.

"I think digital cuts off high harmonics that you can't hear, but it affects the rest of the sound. It's very subtle. Two people could have very similar voices if you measured them, but there's a tone and timbre that distinguishes people which digital misses out."

But Matt does see the computer as being part of the future:

"I'm sure within the next few years, someone is going to invent this chip that suddenly gives 100 times the memory. It'll be fairly soon and when it comes, it'll transform everything."

The majority of artists rely on some unique combination of equipment to create a 'trademark sound'. So, what's The The's secret weapon?

"I don't want to say exactly what gives me my sound, but it's mainly through vocals. I have a collection of old valve mics that I use, but one of the best bits of gear that I bought was a Tascam 688 MIDI studio. It's great for writing with. I wrote the last couple of albums on that, and I've got three — one in London, one in New York and one in Spain."

Early last year, Johnson embarked on a series of cover versions of Hank Williams songs — a composer with whom he's become increasingly preoccupied. It should be remembered, however, that Johnson himself is an excellent songwriter. It was this that made me wonder why he had this apparent interest in cover versions.

"Doing covers gives me the chance to sing and produce without having to worry about writing. Songwriting is very pressurised a lot of the time, and I'd just come off a world tour and wanted to clear my head of my own songs. The Hank Williams project was something I'd had on the back burner for about four or five years, and was only able to bring to fruition in the last year, when I had the time."

Many people in this country are apt to see Hank Williams as a hokey old country singer, but Matt believes his songwriting talents are unjustly ignored. It would seem that the late Williams is something of a mythical figure in the states.

"I think Hank Williams is to country what Bob Marley is to reggae. I'm not really a country fan, but I do think he's part of a lineage of songwriters that includes Robert Johnson, John Lennon and Neil Young."

That is a group of artists to which Matt Johnson aspires far more than any of his contemporaries. It's Williams's blues-influenced songs that set him apart from the rest of the country scene.

"You've got to remember, at the time, songwriters tended to write for other people, so someone who wrote, sung and played his own songs was something of an outsider. But when he died, he had the biggest funeral. He was the king, he was massive."

"there's a tone and timbre that distinguishes people which digital misses out"

Sure, maybe Williams was a good songwriter, but that was then. Why should Matt Johnson want to reproduce what's gone before?

"What's the point in having a career if you're not going to take any risks? The pre-release reaction has been good in the US, but I don't lose sight of the fact that first and foremost, I'm a songwriter."

At the moment, Matt is working on an album provocatively entitled Gun Sluts — a name which reflects the style. This project, Matt claims, will not involve synthesisers.

"I've never really used synths," says Matt, wearily. "That's the main misconception. I used one for a couple of tracks on Soul Mining. It really bugged me when people said 'electronic band'. It started off in '79 when we used tape machines, and put old electric keyboards through distortion boxes, but we were never really a synth band."

Matt had always experimented with sound, however, and would use almost any means to create a desired sound or effect.

"I used samplers before they were invented," claims Johnson. "I used to create tape loops — percussion loops recorded off records and television. That was the old days. The first album I did was pure experimentation, but after a while, I started to get bored with production techniques. I think it's important to have substance underneath it, and I started to drift the other way and develop myself as a musician and a songwriter."

As far as equipment goes, Johnson is certainly not deprived. He has a studio in London that he runs commercially, and he now has one in New York too.

"There's a bunch of albums that I've got in mind at the moment. There's a very high-tech one that I'm doing with Roli Mosimann — the producer I worked with on Infected and Mind Bomb, who now produces The Young Gods."

I don't think there are many people in the business who've worked with as many other artists and producers as Johnson. So who is his favourite producer?

"Uh, me. I'm not being funny, but it took years to give myself confidence. I've worked with some great producers, 'though — Warne Livesey, Paul Hardiman, Roli Mosimann and Bruce Lampcov. I could see myself working with all of them again. I'm not into producing other bands. I have dabbled in it, but if I'm going to be stuck in the studio, I'd rather be doing it for myself. I also take over too much. That's a problem because they end up sounding like me, which is bad. A producer should be fairly transparent, encourage the band and bring the best out of them, but I usually end up playing their instruments for them."

Matt doesn't really have much hands-on studio engineering input nowadays, as his co-producer Bruce Lampcov has everything under control. He will, however, help out if the tape op goes out, but he rarely needs to.

"I could if I wanted to," he said. "My ears are still pretty good for EQing."

Having risen from the bottom rung of the biz, Matt Johnson is more than qualified to hand out advice to aspiring engineers and producers. And he has a tip or two for young musos starting out:

"If you can get a job in a studio and start off when you're young, that's great. Admittedly, there aren't enough jobs to satisfy the demand, so I would advise people to perhaps take courses and read up on it. The most important thing is to buy yourself a little portastudio, and — if you can afford it — compressors, gates and reverbs. Even if they're basic versions of all the fundamental effects, just experiment, record bands and yourself, and of course, ask people."

When he was in his teens, Matt had saved up to buy a tape machine. This pre-dated portastudios and was an Akai 4000 DS Mk2.

"You could multitrack, but it wasn't really multi tracking. You were sort of bouncing as you went along. Around 1977, I had a small studio set-up in my Dad's cellar — little echo boxes, drum machines and little monitors. I think that's the best way — always practising and listening inquisitively to other peoples' records. I'm into simplicity now. I think once you've learned how it all works, the novelty starts to wear off. Another thing that you should definitely be getting into now, however, is sampling and computers. That's a must."

I couldn't resist asking Matt's views on dance, ambient and techno. I was surprised that he seemed pretty open-minded towards the scene.

"At least it's music that wasn't being made 15 years ago. There's a lot of young guitar bands coming through and some of them sound good. But to be celebrated as the next big thing is ridiculous. Come on man, this stuff is 20 years old. I'm not saying they're bad, but it's really old and tired. At least techno and ambient are of their time. I don't go to dance clubs anymore or take ecstasy. I think that's a big part of it. It's fine if you're vegged out or trancing around a club off your head, but I don't do that anymore!"

Hanky Panky is due for release on the 13th of February.