Australian pop legend Paul Kelly talks to CATHRIN SCHAER about his new album, a collection of 'happy love songs'
They call him the "Bob Dylan of Australia". They say he's done for the Australian Outback what Bruce Springsteen did for small-town America. They say he is "Australia's definitive singer-songwriter", a "mirror to the Australian spirit", and even that through his earthy, philosophy-heavy songs he's a "navigator of the soul".
But how does Paul Kelly himself describe what he does? In a typically lyrical but down-to-earth way, of course. "I call myself a pop musician really," Kelly says. "But pop music is a pretty big river and I'm just swimming along the edges."
Rather than paddling frantically, the father-of-three seems to be travelling that river more slowly these days.
His musical career started in 1984 when he moved from Melbourne to Sydney with his band The Dots. In 1986, as Paul Kelly and the Coloured Girls, he released Gossip, an album featuring many memorable hits and lyrics that mentioned Australian landmarks such as the Melbourne Cricket Ground, the Sydney suburb of Darlinghurst and cricketing legend Sir Donald Bradman.
Local success and then a certain amount of international acclaim followed pretty quickly. For the past decade or so Kelly has been making a living out of his music. Over the past few years he's diversified somewhat - he's written movie soundtracks, dabbled in reggae, engaged mildly with electronica and put out an album of spoken word. A book of his lyrics has been published (twice) and there's even a tribute album of Australian female musicians covering his songs.
Most recently though the 49-year-old Sydney resident has released another album, Ways and Means, a collection of what he describes as "happy love songs". This brings the total of albums bearing his name to 19. It also bears the name of Kelly's nephew, Dan, who collaborated with him on Ways and Means and who has just released his own first album in Australia.
Before heading to New Zealand next week to play live in support of this new album, Kelly and his group have been touring Europe and the United States. It's not his first tour of these locales by any means, but the Australian flavour of Kelly's work continues to garner a dedicated group of enthusiastic fans, albeit a fairly small one.
"His casual brand of gentle rock is as accomplished as you can get," enthused one fashionable British reviewer. "Well-crafted songs and neat musicianship may not be capable of starting any fires in this day and age, but Ways and Means recalls a period of consummate fatherly charm."
"I guess [the Australian element] makes it distinctive," Kelly speculates as to why tales of the Outback and romance in urban Sydney continue to captivate his fans and the music critics. "Most of my favourite music has a strong stink of where it comes from, whether it's George Jones from East Texas or Talvin Singh from London's Indian community or Dr Dre on the West Coast."
Kelly reckons it's a matter of developing your taste. When you're younger you get into Britney or Pop Idol or other more generic forms of music.
"Then, as you start digging into music a little more, you start liking different flavours. It's like when you first start drinking beer. You're just like, well, this is beer and it's great. Then you decide you want to make a study of beer and you realise you don't really like the generic brands of beer. And that you really like, say, something like Cooper's Ale. It's made in Adelaide," adds the mellow troubadour, who then confesses Cooper's is actually his favourite beer, "and it's got a nice, strong flavour."
And although he might not like to boast about it, Kelly's music has become as much a part of the Australian landscape as Cooper's Ale. Judging from the sound of Ways and Means and reactions on the present tour - "people don't tear their clothes off," he says, "but it's nice when they dance" - things haven't changed too much on the performance front either.
He continues to listen to and be motivated by all sorts of music. "You know, sometimes when you're driving and you have to turn up the radio and maybe even stop the car. And it can be anything really, from Richard Strauss to Yellow by Coldplay - I always remember when I first heard that - to the first EP by the Sleepy Jackson. Those kinds of things are an inspiration, that's where you draw your power from."
He's never been tempted to change genres. He's never going to go all rock'n'roll on us and smash his guitar on stage. "Nah, they cost too much," he laughs. "And as for electronic music, I've never been very good with machinery so I've never really gotten into that. It's not something I'm really able to do."
So does this well-respected Australian legend ever worry about the fact that he might not be in fashion any more?
"Worry isn't quite the right word," he says quietly and you're not quite sure whether there's a very dry sense of humour at work or whether he's just being polite. "Pop music is always looking for something new, something that wows the young."
And then Kelly takes us back to the river. That is, the river of pop music. "There's a place for all kinds of music, it's a big river. But like I say, I'm on the edges of that river."
And most likely on a lilo with a glass of Cooper's Ale in his hand, one suspects. The veteran musician laughs at this analogy. "Yeah, I'm probably not swimming as fast as some people. But I'm still afloat."
* Paul Kelly plays the SkyCity Theatre in Auckland on Thursday; the Opera House in Wellington on Friday; and the James Hay Theatre in Christchurch on Saturday.
Lyrics flow like a river
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