| Lies and Whispers: An Interview with Frazier Chorus
 While
Britain was rumbling from the sawbuzz guitar and feedback sounds
of South Coast bands like Jesus & Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine,
a little band called Frazier Chorus emerged using atypical instrumentation
that featured woodwind and harp. It wasn’t merely a contrivance
to make them different from their native Brighton peers; it’s
just that none of them knew how to play guitar. The band’s
Sloppy Heart EP came out on 4AD in 1986 and a year later,
Virgin U.K. release the Sue album, which included their
unusual cover of "Anarchy in the U.K."
These days, Frazier Chorus are making their
stateside debut on Charisma Records with Ray a floating
batch of catchy melodies with a warm, oceanic groove. Produced by
Lightning Seed Ian Broudie, Ray buoys us through a breezy
trip of deceptively pillowy pop. Amidst Chris Tiaplin’s snappy
synth rhythms and Kate Holmes’ gossamer-light woodwinds and
electronic music devices, vocalist Tim Freeman whispers more than
sings, as if sharing with us his best-kept secrets. The emotional
vibe is so intimate we need a few spins to uncover Freeman’s
lyrics, as clever and biting as anything this side of New Order.
Between sips of soup, Tim whispered sweet nothings into the ear
of HITS’ own "Smokin" Joe Jarrell…which is exactly
what we get in this exclusive HITS interview.
What’s Brighton like?
It’s a typical English seaside town. It’s
very old-worldy and very comfortable, with a very creative atmosphere.
For that reason, it’s very easy to do nothing, to kid yourself
that you’re gainfully employed as a juggler or a saxophone
player. But when you wake up five years later, you’re still
in Brighton signing on to unemployment benefits.
How did the band come together?
This seems a bit crass, but the whole point
of getting together was I fancied Kate and I thought saying, "Do
you want to be in my band?" was as good a chat-up line as any.
I didn’t have a band at the time so when she said yes, I said,
"Well, you’re it, then." It was all tiptoeing around
the subject of sex, because that’s what we both wanted. We
used have these band practices, me playing with my little organ
and her having a good blow — that’s supposed to sound
dirty, by the way — but we thought we’d better get some
other people in it or it would look too obvious.
How did you develop your whispery singing
style?
I never called myself a singer, really. I just
happened to front the band because I write the songs. Our manager
is always hassling me to take lessons, but I prefer the idea of
using what you’ve got. When I was younger, I was in a cathedral
choir, where I was one of the 12 top choristers in the country.
But then my testicles dropped, and my voice went with them. I realized
when I was about 14 that I couldn’t sing, and I haven’t
tried since.
What kind of music was playing in your house
when you were growing up?
My dad was a real trad-jazzer, which I’m
not particularly into. It always reminds me of universities and
earnest young men with goatees. But my mom was into Simon &
Garfunkel, and Crosby, Stills and Nash. Once I was able to buy my
own records with pocket money, it was all English pop singers like
Slade and Marc Bolan (T. Rex), and all these sort-of dreadful English
bands. The best record I ever had was The Swingle Singers.
What were you like as a child?
We were pretty hot on books in our family, so
words were very important. It was always mucking ‘em up in
your mind and twisting around anagrams; we’d always play a
lot of word games.
Do you get any bizarre fan mail?
If you ask me, it’s all bizarre. I’ve
always liked music and I’ve always had one or two favorite
groups, but I never do anything like write to them. All these people
who write tend to think you’re singing to them, which is good.
That’s the sort of feeling I’d like people to get. Unfortunately,
people that tend to write tend to be fuckin’ weirdos. I can’t
handle it. I’ve always been uncomfortable with fandom —
the idea of giving yourself up to someone you don’t really
know. But I find it hard to mock them because they seem very genuine
about their feelings..
What was your first band like?
I was in a punk rock group. Everybody must’ve
had one it was purely for the thrill of music, it had nothing to
do with the sound or the meaning behind it. .You know how it is
when you’re a little younger: you get off on the idea, as opposed
to what it is.
Punk is a far cry from Frazier Chorus.
I’ve never really seen it as that far away.
When we started, we were fairly low-tech. There’s a little
bit of punk rock in Frazier Chorus. That’s why we did the cover
of "Anarchy in the U.K.", just to keep true to ourselves.
That song is always treated as an icon, as s symbol of the time.
I just wanted to discover the musical basis of it and turn it back
into a song. I thought Megadeth’s version was hopeless because
it was a straight photocopy of the original, only a little bit worse.
Ours is 100% worse, and completely original as well. It sounds quite
heavily orchestrated. It’s a mellow version.
Your music has such a floating, ethereal
quality to it, I wondered if you believe in angels.
I’d have to say yes because it’s such
a great idea. It’d be so nice and romantic if they did exist.
Ghosts get a bit of a bad press, don’t they? I love the idea
of floating around in ether once you’re officially dead. We
have a song on the album called "Heaven" that’s more
or less what I think of heaven, which would be up with what I think
of angels as well. I see them as busybodies and totally unionized
labor, stickin’ their noses in where they’re not wanted
and playing those fuckin’ annoying harps all the time.
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