“I read recently that a perfectly functioning society only has 100 people,” Falco says, apropos of nothing. “So maybe we need to get things down to sequences of 100. Oh, no, wait, I’ve completely misremembered. That was actually about the function of gossip and sociability, and I’ve half-remembered it and have now presented my findings to you in an immediate attempt to round off my point. Every time I give you a fact now you should ask for footnotes.”
I’m not convinced that would be all that useful, since even when we do find ourselves delving into the shapes and motivations of the band’s fifth album, we are never there for very long. That’s not to say that our conversation is in any way insubstantial or vexing; indeed, as Falco’s mile-a-minute musings unfold it becomes clear that the fluidity of his thoughts is very much a strength.
“I’m very bad at selling the record and explaining songs,” he says. “I’ve always wanted to be in those bands of myth where they just get to make records because that’s what they did and they were good. They didn’t have to go around dressed like a bunch of cunts and talk all the time, or retweet a good review from Alaska. Twitter and that, it’s weird. It’s demanded by the age. But then again you get some bands who appeal to people precisely because they don’t embrace that.
“T’was always – fuck. I almost said ‘t’was always thus’, and I fucking hate people who say that. For fuck’s sake, what’s going on today? I’ve eaten too much cake. It was my birthday a couple of days ago and Julia bought me this gigantic carrot cake. It’s so big it frightens me. I’m loathe to use the word moist, but this is some moist amazement. Where am I going with this?”
Where indeed. By coincidence, carrot cake is my favourite cake, and without quite understanding how, this revelation leads us to a shared love of the quiz show QI, and the fact that giraffes couldn’t shout if they were in danger since they possess no vocal chords. Yet despite this, Falco sees no divine hand in coincidences.
“I believe in coincidences, but I don’t believe they’re speaking or revealing anything. But from when I was a teenager to when I was in college, I did go out with six girls in a row I found out were all saxophonists. That’s odd, because for the most part I fucking hate the saxophone. Well, ‘fucking hate’ might be overstating it. I have a studied ambivalence to the saxophone. And it was odd because it was something that had been a relatively minor part of their lives in every case. Plus it’s not like you walk up to someone and say, ‘Hi my name’s Karen. I’m 5’8” as you can see, I like Morrissey, and I used to play the saxophone about six years ago.’
“[I’m superstitious] but without any real basis,” he continues. “In the sense I’m not at all religious, but I walk around talking to ghosts all the time. Family members. It isn’t really a conversation where you think that they’re there. You’re just keeping the memory and the spirit alive. But there’s no actual religion there for me. I think religion is really sweet, to be honest. It’s like a nice bear. ‘Oh, what a lovely bear. What does the bear do? Oh, he does things. Naw. Nice bear.’ I haven’t really thought this analogy through, but it’s completely true as I’m saying it, so I’m going to barrel through it with something approaching conviction. ‘Religion is a bear,’ says man in band.”
It’s time to turn the conservation towards The Peace and Truce of Future of the Left. Despite the fact there are songs here whose titles alone are crying out for favouritism – such as The Limits of Battleships and White Privilege Blues – it’s hard to look past Former Life, thanks in no small measure to the line, “In a former life he was Ron Perlman’s gas tank.”
“It’s my favourite song as well. The album is very coherent to me. Sonically it may lack some of the variety of the last record, but whether that’s a strength or weakness is entirely personal taste. The essence of it is just right. Generally speaking it’s been very positive so far, but I can sense there are a handful of people disappointed there isn’t a song like French Lessons, and you know, hey, I like songs like that as well, but you don’t just squeeze a ballad onto an album. This isn’t Aerosmith. I’m pretty sure of that. I’m not wearing leather trousers, I know that much.”
BY ADAM NORRIS
