Fanning a solo flame

Bernard Fanning

Bernard Fanning has termites and diarrhoea. To be accurate, his Brisbane home has the first disease and he suffers the verbal variation of the second.

"I just keep crapping on," he hoots, a few hours before jumping on a plane to New Zealand.

"And if it's a pretty happy kind of atmosphere at a gig it makes a band feel good and you just wanna talk shit. If I can do it with 300 people at once, why not?"

He'll frankly discuss his temporary break with his band Powderfinger, his permanent break with his girlfriend of 12 years and how the life-altering circumstances helped his breakthrough as a solo artist.

Tea & Sympathy, charting at number 11 here, has cemented his reputation as one of Australia's top songwriters. Forgoing his band's rocky bluster, it's a bluesy, country-tinged collection, fleshed out by fiddles and mandolin, and boasting some of his most personal lyrics - no guessing what Wish You Well is about. Three weeks ago it was named Album of the Year at the MTV Australia Awards.

Think that's a coup? So did Fanning until he went to what turned out to be "a pretty hideous, cheesy event". He'd rather celebrate with a couple of beers after a gig than have to talk himself up.

Ask him to explain how an Aussie muso has been embraced by a Kiwi audience and he blames, rather than credits, the first single.

"I know that Wish You Well has been flogged to within an inch of its life so there's the force-feeding element. People just throw their hands up in the air and go 'Ah, [expletive] it, I don't care if he's Australian. But I dunno. Wish You Well's quite a catchy song. A lot of people in New Zealand have seen Powderfinger. I think it's also pretty different to what's ordinarily on the radio. There's not a whole lot of technology or rapping or anything modern about it. Maybe that's what appeals."

At the beginning of the tour he sat his manager down and explained he didn't want to flog the album endlessly, preferring to do a minimum of shows. Hence this "extensive", two-date New Zealand tour.

Part of the reason was his experience in Powderfinger, a band that has become so entrenched in Aussie music culture that lyrics to These Days are studied in the school curriculum. After 15 years and six studio albums, it was time for a breather. Two of the lads had just had kids; another was bringing up twins and Fanning had an urge to travel. But they're not over yet - when he returns to Oz he'll finish the seventh album with the fellas.

"We're persistent dogs, basically. It's been really fun."

Just don't expect the mates joining him on this tour to play My Happiness. It would be disrespectful to the rest of Powderfinger, he says. "And I'm having a break from Powderfinger for god's sake."

Some of the lyrics in his solo material though, suggest he's taken the song literally. "I just pray that you'll be coming back," he sings on The Strangest Thing, "To mend my heart's wound".

Writing them was the gut-wrenching part, says Fanning, who realises the album is probably not on high-rotate at his ex's house. But he downplays the emotion in the songs, which have taken on a life of their own over the months, as he's moved on and found himself in a new relationship. Conveying them with a depth and meaning each time they're played would require "the concentration of a Tibetan monk".

"You also have to remember that being in a band, you just get to make a lot of noise with your mates," he says. "You get to make all this crashing, booming sound and that's just fun."

Fanning now has his sights on the United States. The album will be released on Nashville label Lost Highway, and with its rustic country vibe it wouldn't be far-fetched to see it doing well. Fanning is realistic, not idealistic.

"I think people always imagined that Powderfinger would do well in the States but we've never really had a great deal of success there. It's real roll of the dice stuff. Unless you're prepared to move there and really 'work it, man', I think your chances of having major success are pretty low. I just want to go and with the limited time that I have, promote and play as much as I can, and just work really hard. But part of touring for me is to have a look at the country I'm in."

He inquires with genuine enthusiasm and the always-amusing Aussie pronunciation of Maori place names, whether it's worth driving to Ruapehu and Tongariro, and if it's cold enough to bring a jersey for his short stay in the North Island.

He's also preparing for his arrival during NZ Music Month.

"I might get punched out," he laughs. "By Jon Toogood or Scribe."

* Bernard Fanning at Studio, tonight