Greg Johnson: Writing like crazy

Greg Johnson. Photo supplied.
Greg Johnson. Photo supplied.
It is likely that by the time you read this Kiwi troubadour Greg Johnson will have packed his bags in readiness for the flight from his old haunt, Auckland, to his more recent home, Los Angeles.

Johnson made a fleeting visit to New Zealand last week, playing a one-off gig in Auckland to promote his ninth studio effort, Secret Weapon, an album brimming with piano and pop sensibilities, albeit with a few electronic nods to his '80s roots.

But that's not the only twist in a discography which started with the Greg Johnson Set's 1989 debut, Watertable, the first step on a career boasting such hummable tunes as 1997 Apra Silver Scroll Award-winning single Liberty, Isabelle and Save Yourself.

The 12-track Secret Weapon is an independent release. Recording costs were paid upfront by fans; Johnson mixed and produced it himself; and (like previous album Seven Day Cure) it has been put out on his own label, Johnson Music America.

"I had been on licence to EMI for a few years, having been signed directly to them a few years before that. Essentially, we decided there wasn't really much need for a major label any more, so we did a pre-sale thing [whereby fans could pay for the album before its release to help defray recording, promotion costs etc].

"That worked out quite well. We managed to sell enough to make it," Johnson explains via phone from Auckland last week.

"It doesn't cost that much money to make an album these days. I have got a small but state-of-the-art studio at my place in Los Angeles. It was very much an indie vibe all round.

"People love to sidestep the corporations; it's almost a national characteristic of ours, isn't it? It just makes economic sense to own your own music these days. It's not as if you can sell hundreds of thousands of them anymore - not that I ever did, but you know what I mean."

Business aside, there is a breezy warmth to Secret Weapon, which evokes a 1970s AM radio vibe, complete with a musical backdrop that is, at times, slightly cluttered.

"I know what you mean," Johnson says when this observation is put to him. "This time round, I thought about the music I grew up with.

"I love the Stones and I wanted to put that element of fun and rock 'n' roll that they have. As a kid in the 1980s, I was listening to synths, which are just another instrument, and horns ... so I wanted to go back to my old palette.

"Someone said to me today it reminded them of Watertable. It has got elements of those things and they are all classic sounds now," he says of the occasional electronic bleep or blast. Still, it's not quite Lady Gaga.

"No, it's not quite Lady Gaga," Johnson says, laughing. "I kept the electronic level reasonably in check; it's still a living, breathing, 90%-played record."

Johnson also makes a welcome return to the trumpet, which he first picked up at the age of 11 and went on to play in various Auckland bands, including jazz outfit Bluespeak and pop group Car Crash Set.

"Yes, I got the old horn out ... I might experiment more next time. I think of those classic Stones songs like Heartbreaker, which have such great horn parts. There is also that 1980s Australian tradition with bands like Hunters and Collectors and Paul Kelly and back here with the Big Sideways Band. There were a lot of horns going on back in the day."

Pay attention to Johnson's lyrics and one is left with the sense the 44-year-old songwriter is taking stock of his life, engaging in conversations and embracing life rather than distancing himself from others. Yet, like so many of his songs, Johnson throws in a few shades of grey.

"It's funny, you know ... a reviewer said it's quite melancholic in places and he's right. I think it's a case of getting older; you have to reach some philosophy for yourself. They are honest records; there's good and bad in there. The observational song is still quite rare so I enjoy that side of the process."

Johnson attempts to comment on a range of topics in Secret Weapon.

In Royal Me, he tackles the nature of celebrity. "That kind of existence people live [where] nothing is ever quite good enough, offset with the layman's idea of what an amazing time you'd have."

Old Revolutions is an acerbic look at nostalgia. "Everything is rose-coloured when you are looking back. Really? I'm not falling for it. People say, 'Gosh, don't you think the world we live in is dangerous?' Well, no - World War 2 was pretty bad."

And on Maori King, he documents a slice of rural New Zealand. "It is a 100% New Zealand story."

Yet Johnson's output is not limited to his own recording projects. He is writing "like crazy" at the moment, pitching his songs to various artists in the hope someone - by that he means someone big - will pick one up.

"I'm doing a bit of other stuff, producing a few things and getting the little studio ticking over. I'm also doing some stuff for radio in London and generally getting it out there, doing what I always do, which is a variety of things: shows, songwriting, a bit of recording and producing."

With the exception of a four-year gap between his 2000 album Seabreeze Motel and its follow-up, Here Comes The Caviar, Johnson keeps, roughly, to a two-year cycle for his releases. It's a schedule that keeps him sharp; the oldest song on Secret Weapon is The Maori King, written 18 months ago. Everything else has been penned in the past six months.

"If you are going to write songs, you've got to put them out. That's what I do; putting out these records is my number one occupation, no matter whether they sell well or not. That builds up my publishing catalogue, of course."

Since moving to Los Angeles in 2002, Johnson has put much effort into lifting his profile in the US, spending plenty of time and money in an effort to have his songs played on radio there.

Sometimes that money can be hard to recoup: though the single Save Yourself (from 2004 album Here Comes The Caviar ) was been picked up by more than 60 radio stations in 2005, it didn't "translate into cents", he concedes.

"You've got to invest so much money to get anything back. It's such a risk. It's not surprising there are a lot of people not doing that anymore. And I'm one of them."

Married for the past three and a-half years, clearly in control of his career (wherever that may lead him), Johnson hints children might be the subject of future songs.

"It's on the cards, but my wife's stunt career is really booming and those things don't really go hand in hand. It's not advisable to jump off a cliff when you're heavily pregnant."


DISCOGRAPHY

As Greg Johnson Set:
Watertable, 1989
Everyday Distortions, 1993

As Greg Johnson:
Vine Street Stories, 1995
Chinese Whispers, 1997
• Seabreeze Motel, 2000
The Best Yet, 2001 (compilation)
Here Comes The Caviar, 2004
Anyone Can Say Goodbye, 2006
Seven Day Cure, 2008
Secret Weapon, 2010

Greg Johnson's Secret Weapon is out now.


 

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