“Trick is more to do with being back on the road a bit,” he explains. “Having played a lot of live shows, this album comes from wanting to have the right kind of music to do so. Carry On The Grudge was quite down-tempo. I wanted to counter that.
“It’s a strange point in my career where I’m thinking about the past while moving myself forward,” he says. “I had a lot of fun writing the record and I feel like that comes across on a lot of the tracks.”
Though the response to Carry On was positive, the record heralded a clear departure from Treays’ earlier work. Trick is a celebration of Treays’ roots, full of nods to the debut album that made him famous. It was even partially recorded in his old stomping grounds of the now-closed Moloko Studios in Hoxton Square.
Of course, the studio’s demise represents a neat real-world mirror for Treays closing one chapter and embarking upon another. “It was nice to go back to Moloko Studios one last time,” he says. “It’s always good to touch base with the old sound.”
Aside from Moloko, Treays also embarked upon a pilgrimage to Detroit, recording songs from Trick in a number of studios in the States. “I’ve seen Detroit explored on a few documentaries and some friends have been,” he says. “People are moving there because it’s so cheap, which is giving rise to lots of art and music. I was keen to record somewhere else and I’m glad we did. Visually it’s a really interesting place.
“Whenever I go away it tends to make me more aware of where I’m from. In a way Detroit could’ve been anywhere. I’m glad we went, because it gave me the opportunity to connect to the English aspect of the music.”
Though it doesn’t necessarily stick to the guidelines of genre, Trick does touch on reggae and hip hop influences, traversing through a range of styles while unpacking evocative images of lost souls, exile, deserted cities and changing times. Solomon Eagle is particularly notable, full of grimey rapping and RZA-inspired production, telling the story of a real life seventeenth century Quaker called Solomon Eccles.
“That’s him on the front cover of the album as well,” Treays says. “He’s a legendary character. He’d walk around almost naked in London berating people during the Black Death, shouting that this was happening because they were living in a den of inequity.
“I’ve always been a big fan of RZA and his production,” Treays says. “The beat led me down that route. I’m nowhere near as good as RZA, mind you. I love his heavy bassline beats and I was trying to capture a little bit of that.”
As his love of American rappers proves, despite the uniquely English resolve of Treays’ music, his lyrics are not tied to any one particular country, and he aims to be relatable on a global scale. Sign Of The Times, one of Trick’s more unashamedly emotional songs, contains the line, “Where did all the venues go? Lost them all to businessmen.”It’s a line that will resonate heavily with Sydneysiders and is an issue that proves contentious for Treays.
“It’s a huge issue in London,” he says. “All the venues have been replaced with flats which is such a shame because you feel like the city you live in is just being gutted. The culture that makes the city good is ignored and it’s becoming harder to go and see a good live show these days because venues aren’t considered very important to a lot of people.
“Music survives. People want to see live music,” he says. “What is sad is the loss of the communities that exist in these venues. They get pushed under the bus because someone wants to build a new fucking tower block. It sucks. I’m the eternal optimist but it makes me grumpy.”
Though Treays has every right to be annoyed, annual festivals like Falls offer such beefy lineups that it’s hard to be totally despondent about the access to live music we have in this country. Treays first played Falls in 2009 and is excited to return again.
“2009 was the first time we’d played outdoors and the way the sound travels is super fun,” he says. “The crowd is always down for it. Actually Australian audiences remind me a lot of Scottish crowds – they’re super positive and always up to have a seriously good time.
“As a musician you delight in going places where you get a feeling the party has already started when you turn up. Sometimes you feel like you’re the only one trying to get it started. Australia feels like it’s a party that’s begun without us and we’ve been lucky enough to get pulled in for the ride.”
BY IAIN MCKELVEY
