There's a new tour, a new compilation, and a 'proper' new album on the
way from Massive Attack. Founder members Robert '3D' Del Naj'a and
Grant 'Daddy G' Marshall tell Stephen Dalton about their extraordinary
working methods and how they thrive on the creative tension at the
heart of the band.
Some bands thrive
on creative tension, but very few make it work for them across almost
two decades of strife and struggle. And yet, somehow, Massive Attack
have outlasted Britpop and trip-hop, rave and grunge, UK garage and
electroclash. During that time, they have lost founder members, been
banned from the airwaves, fallen out bitterly, faced trial by tabloid
and raids by the police. Meanwhile, they have released groundbreaking
albums, made consistently stunning videos, inspired everyone from
Madonna to Gorillaz, and patented a Bristol-bom sound that changed the
global vocabulary of pop.
There was
never a serious game plan. The original Wild Bunch sound system could
hardly have predicted how their fusion of reggae, punk, hip-hop and
graffiti art would blossom years later. It all began with warehouse
parties, dub plates and hand-drawn posters in the late 1980s. Then it
grew into a label, a studio, a bar, an extended family of collaborators
and associated artists - but still, as its beating heart, one of the
most dysfunctional bands in Britain. "It was never
really a planned career," shrugs Massive co-founder Robert '3D' Del
Naja. "Everything happened accidentally, bit by bit. Even after 'Blue
Lines' was a relatively successful first album, we didn't have plans
even to make a second album. We didn't know what we were going to do.
It was all a bit of an education, and that continues to this day."
Before
Massive Attack, before the Wild Bunch, there was the much-fabled Dug
Out club in Park Row, a legendary melting pot of people, sounds and
subcultures. Now Massive have revamped their downtown bar Nocturne as
The Tube in a kind of homage to the Dug Out. A dancefloor has been
installed while the speakers are now plastered with artwork by 3D,
stencil guru Banksy, Jamie Hewlett of Gorillaz fame, Radiohead sleeve
designer Stanley Donwood and others. "The Dug Out
was fundamental in bringing people together in the Bristol music
scene," 3D recalls. "Bringing people who were into new wave and punk
closer towards what reggae and dub music was about, all at the same
time as Pil were putting records out and The Clash were moving into
different areas. It was real education, being exposed to all these
different types of music. There was something happening every night of
the week. And I used to live there, I was there every night. I don't
know how Bristol would have developed without it, because nothing was
ever like the Dug Out after it closed."
Reaching back
to the Dug Out days, Massive's new career-spanning album 'Collected' is
a welcome reminder that Bristol's veteran innovators still sound as
moody, majestic and musically adventurous as they did 15 years ago.
Working back through the archives, remastering the band's early albums
for the digital age, 3D realised just how far the world has changed.
"It's weird because we spend so long between albums, so the
technologies change dramatically from record to record," he says. "It
was all smoke and mirrors and | steam, now it's all gone digital. So it
was quite weird, but I quite like the textural changes between tracks
from the past and the present."
The last time
Massive were interviewed by Venue, tension was almost tangible. 3D was
barely communicating with his long time musical partner, Grant 'Daddy
G' Marshall. He was also reeling from a raid on his Bristol home by
Avon and Somerset police in February 2003. As part of a national
crackdown on child pornography, he was questioned over allegations of
drug possession and Internet porn offences. The story was broken by The
Sun, fuelling dark speculation that the Massive star was being targeted
for his highly public stance against the war in Iraq. At the time 3D
was livid and sought legal advice. But looking back, he shrugs off the
whole affair. "The porn thing came and went as quick as the newspapers
did," he says. "It was such an absurdity, it existed within the
tabloids but that's not something we're about as a band. We've never
been about celebrity, so it was never really going to touch us. The
timing of the arrest was very cynical. I spoke to the police and there
was lot of to-ing and fro-ing with lawyers, but I chose not to follow
things up because I just felt it was going to go nowhere. It was pretty
much a flash in the pan in the tabloids. It didn't affect my life or
the people around me."
Although all
pom charges were dropped within weeks, 3D was cautioned for ecstasy
possession. Having recently witnessed his friend Kate Moss being
crucified in the tabloids for her cocaine habit, he believes the
British media's love-hate obsession with sex, drugs and celebrity reeks
of prurient double standards. "It's amazing that the police want to
arrest Kate on the way into London but they're not going around to
David Cameron's house," 3D argues. "Has it got to be a photograph that
means you get questioned by the police? Or the fact that you admit
doing it? When they talk about sending messages out to fucking kids or
whatever, it's so incontinent it's ridiculous. When it comes to sex and
drugs, Britain has always been hypocritical."
Massive are
currently in rehearsals for a major world tour to promote 'Collected'.
Although the gigantic digital information screen from their last live
incarnation will return in revamped form, their hi-tech sound will be
stripped down into more organic, unplugged arrangements. In July, the
tour will pass close to home with open-air shows at Westonbirt
Arboretum in Gloucestershire and the Wireless festival at Hyde Park in
London. For both events, Massive plan to fill the stage with friends
and like-minded artists. "We've got Westonbirt, which we're going to
programme with local acts," says 3D. "We'd really like The Flies to do
it, Sean Cook's band. We've got to see how much time we've got and how
many bands we can get on the stage, but we definitely want to keep it
local."
Speaking of
local acts, 3D and Daddy G still keep one eye on the Bristol scene. But
not as closely as when they were running their short-lived Melacholik
label to showcase local talent. "Virgin didn't really have the money to
back us,"
Daddy G says.
"You know what these labels are like, they expect other people to do
their dirty work for them. If they've got a good band, they really
encourage them to go out and sign their mates - it's the rap ethos. But
they don't ever give you the money to back that up."
Although tensions
have always existed within Massive Attack, 3D traces the serious
faultlines back to the release of 'Mezzanine' in 1998. Signalling a
shift towards a harder, rockier sound, the band's third album arrived
during a fraught period that culminated in the departure of founder
member Andrew 'Mushroom' Vowles. "He left a void," says 3D. "The
dynamic in the band changed quite a lot after that."
Speaking of Mushroom, 3D dismisses rumours from the Bristol grapevine that he has been working with Massive again: "Not at the
moment, no." So it could happen? "I'd always like to think we could
work together again, just like with Tricky," he nods. "That was a
difficult split for everyone and I know it hit Mushroom hard. But he's
been working on his own thing and I'm looking forward to hearing his
record because Mushroom's a genius. We've kind of always missed him. I
like to think in the future there'd be some chance of redemption
between us."
But whatever
the tribulations of making 'Mezzanine', friction inside Massive reached
crisis point around their next album, '100th Window', in 2003.
Distracted by his newborn daughter, Daddy G stayed out of the studio
altogether while 3D and new recruit Neil Davidge moved the band deeper
into dark, avant-rock territory. There was even talk of them dissolving
altogether. "The reason why I didn't do the last album was because my
priorities were more towards my kids," Daddy G admits, "and I wasn't
really getting on with D. But there's always tension with Massive
Attack, that's the nature of the game. We don't really live out of each
other's pockets. There's always musical tension, social tension. We
don't really get on or see each other that much." Really? "Not if I can
help it, no."
3D is more
diplomatic about his current relationship with Daddy G. "We patched it
up," he says. "But Grant's very different. His way of working is more
of a producer way. He'll leave you with things or suggest things, then
let you get on with it. Then he'll come back and tell you what he
thinks of it, whereas myself and Neil are kind of heads down in the
studio. Grant has more of a DJ mentality."
However
strained relations may be inside Massive, Daddy G seems genuinely
enthused about working on tracks for the band's new album, due for 2007
release and provisionally titled 'Weather Underground'. His mission, he
says, is to "get some soul back in the Massive Attack sound". To that
end, he and 3D are currently recording in separate studios with different
collaborators. "We're working separately on the album, myself and D,"
says Daddy G. "I'm working with some guys called the Robot Club,
Bristol boys. He's working with Neil, and we're going to reconvene at
the end of the sessions and hopefully get some continuity going."
3D confirms
the new record will be a schizophrenic affair, likening it to Outkast's
split double album from Speakerboxx/The Love Below. It seems Massive
may well be the first band in rock history to stay together due to
musical differences. "Yeah, but we're working for the same cause," says
Daddy G, "which is Massive Attack."
"As you know,
we're a totally dysfunctional bunch," 3D laughs. "We never sit in the
same room together and write music. Me and Mushroom did it
occasionally, and me and Tricky used to write together. But beyond that
it's mostly been individuals working with different collaborators. Me
and G haven't written anything together in the same room since '97."
Working
separately for a common cause may sound unusual, but it has clearly
re-energised Daddy G. "I'm starting to enjoy it now that I've got out
of the restraints of working with Rob and Neil Davidge," he says. "I
felt like I was being dictated to by those two. They've got their own
little set- up and I kind of felt I'm not part of it. I'm a lot more
comfortable with my side of things, and really pleased to be making
music again. I had lost my enthusiasm, but that was just because I
wasn't working with like-minded people."
'Weather
Underground' is already shaping up as a feast of collaborations, with
veteran mellow soulman Terry Callier, turntable maestro Gnariz Barkley
and David Sitek of Brooklyn art-rockers TV On The Radio joining 3D,
Daddy G and longtime Massive vocalist Horace Andy. "It's all looking
good," says G. "The fact is if you pick up the phone and ask somebody
to help with the album, invariably they all say yes. It's nice to have
that kind of sway. We make them sound good, they make us sound good."
Some bands
are ruined by creative friction. But some, like Massive Attack, can
barely survive without it. "Well, this is the height of friction with
Massive Attack," nods G, "so we'll probably come up with the best album
we've ever done." '.^.
Does G see a
long-term future for Massive? "Of course I do," he says. "There's no
point doing it unless it's for the long duration. The whole point about
Massive is it's a big project, it's not going anywhere. We're still
going to be here in another 10 years, hopefully. As they say, the best
is yet to come."