Frank Turner: Taking on Timelessness | Q&A

Frank Turner keeps a firm grasp on the mentality and the music that gave him the passion to pursue his own.

He arms himself with a punk rock, DIY mindset, and the English singer-songwriter has been churning out records that allow the listener to get to know the musician, almost as if you’re being played to as an audience of one. Turner’s newest release, Tape Deck Heart, is a continuation of his direct and heartfelt lyricism, mostly credited to punk rock schooling, he says.

Having played the 2012 Summer Olympics in London in front of hundreds of thousands of people, Turner’s openness belies his accomplishments. On Monday, Oct. 7, with accolades in tow, Turner will bring his band, the Sleeping Souls, to the Waiting Room Lounge.

And as a bedrock to his personality, Turner’s punk rock, DIY mentality also allows him to be accessible to fans and fellow musicians. He welcomes questions such as these about his music and his philosophy, his thoughts on “Nebraska” as an idiom and how singing about politics yields only two distinct reactions:

Hear Nebraska: Tell me how England and the United States have each shaped your music.

Frank Turner: That’s a big question. I grew up listening to punk rock music, which was mainly American in origin — from NOFX through the Descendents to Black Flag. In later years, mainly American artists have influenced my swing to what I do now: Springsteen, Townes Van Zandt, The Hold Steady, The Band, Dylan and so on.

That said, one of the things that attracts me to folk music as a concept is the idea of it being music rooted in a time and especially a place, and I want England and Englishness to be a component of my sound. Not in any jingoistic or nationalist kind of way, more in the way that Americana is a cultural thing. Anglicana maybe. I could probably hold forth on this subject for ages. Good first question!

HN: England had some very unique punk bands, though, like the Sex Pistols and the Buzzcocks. Is there a difference between American and English punk rock that made you take influence from one more than the other?

FT: There’s a big difference between English and American punk. English punk was more nihilistic, vicious in a way, but also more short term. It had more of an art school feel to it. My personal taste is for American hardcore punk. Black Flag and so on. It has a slightly more puritanical work ethic vibe to it which I like, it’s kind of honest, head down, sweat and toil kind of thing.

HN: You say you want a sort of “Anglicana” to be evident in your music. How would you define that sort of sound?

FT: By “Anglicana,” I mean more an approach. The thing that appeals to me about Americana is that it’s a celebration of culture in a kind of down-at-heel kind of way, loving for its faults and not being chauvinistic in any way. I’d like to find a way to talk about England and English culture that has the same vibe.

HN: What are the differences between playing shows in Europe and playing shows in America?

FT: People drive further in the USA to get to shows, which always blows my mind. Americans have better manners as well. But generally, it’s in the same ballpark. I guess there’s more baggage or history for me with people in the UK, which is both a good and bad thing, depending on the weather.

HN: What is the biggest difference between the folk-rock scene in America and the folk-rock scene in the United Kingdom?

FT: Folk means slightly different things on either side of the Atlantic, which is a historical thing. Folk rock in the UK is more about traditionals and so on, whereas American folk is more about originals in a certain musical style. The folk rock scene in the USA is pretty vibrant, I’m not sure I’d really say there is one in the UK right now.

HN: You seem to be very in touch with your fans (wanting them to e-mail you and share their music with you, etc). What prompted this philosophy?

FT: Partly, it just seems obvious — I’m just some schmoe with a guitar. When I’m not on the stage, there is no reason for me to be held different to anyone else. I also feel like music is much better as a conversation between equals, rather than as a monologue delivered from a platform, if you see what I mean. Finally, growing up with punk rock installed a healthy iconoclasm in me. I wrote to people when I was a kid (Guy Picciotto, Rollins etc.) who wrote back, and it made a big impression on me.

HN: You’ve gone from playing hardcore music to playing folk-rock songs. Both genres (hardcore and folk) are rooted in protest, but they’re such different styles. Explain the similarities and differences between the two genres in terms of writing, singing and feeling?

FT: I think both share an idea of music as a form of communication within a community, something that’s not so much about stars and egos and personalities, as it is about ideas. They both share a directness of form as well, which I like. It’s not shrouded in hipster irony or whatever, it’s pretty simple ideas communicated passionately. As for differences, well, they’re pretty obvious, I guess. (Laughs.)

HN: You’ve publicly said that you will not perform “Thatcher Fucked the Kids” in concert anymore because you didn’t want to bring politics into your music too much. Explain in further detail how this division between your politics and music has evolved.

FT: Politics are divisive. People have different ideas about how to improve the world. A lot of people involved in the conversation are also utterly fucking totalitarian in their refusal to brook dissent with their opinions.

I got really bored of being applauded for reading back people’s opinions to them, and castigated for saying anything they didn’t like, almost in the same breath. I also got bored of people talking about politics more than music. Music is a thousand times more important to me, personally, and that’s what I want to immerse myself in.

I guess you could also say I did some growing up. But each to their own. I have a lot of friends who make political music and it works for them, so hooray.

HN: In “Nashville, Tennessee,” you mention Nebraska as “just a bunch of songs.” Tell me where that lyric came from.

FT: The album Nebraska, for someone raised in suburban England, has a mythical quality to it; the great American image sparkles on the vinyl, if you see what I mean. But it’s not very real for us. That song is about trying to make music that is drawn from reality, experience, as opposed to from existing idiom or cliche.

HN: You’ve played many different venues, from the Summer Olympics to smaller clubs. Obviously, the atmosphere is different, but how do you acclimate to the situation as a musician?

FT: There are small things to get your head around every time, but in general, I feel like live performances have much more in common with each other than things that separate them.

HN: You say you’re not a protest singer, but you have said that you take a lot of influence from people like Phil Ochs and Bob Dylan. What sorts of things did you take from protest singers to put into your non-protest music?

FT: Musical stylings. Dylan is an interesting one to mention, incidentally, because I feel like I can totally understand his decision to ditch the protest thing in the mid-’60s. I don’t want to sit here and casually compare myself to the great man, but I sympathize with his desire to make music that was more pure, more timeless, less tied to the everyday in a way.

HN: It seems as though the timeless music that you talked about with Dylan might contradict the idea of being direct and talking about a certain time that you talked about with folk music. How do you go about trying to make direct and intimate songs that can still be considered timeless?

FT: Well, human experience is timeless, we are all people. You can write a song about frustration with the authorities, for example, but you don’t have to mention the administration by name. That’s the dividing line.

HN: I still notice certain punk tendencies in your folk music, like short, fast bursts of chords in certain songs. Talk about how much your punk roots influenced the newer music.

FT: Punk rock was my schooling, it’s how I learned to play and write and sing. It’ll always be with me at root, which is just fine with me.

Andrew Samson is a Hear Nebraska contributor. His editor appreciates all stories turned in two months early. Reach him at amsamson7@gmail.com.