Photo by Gerald Jenkins
Since 2000, The The hasn’t been inactive, but its focus has shifted under the guidance of alternative rock veteran Matt Johnson. Best known for a string of post-punk and new wave classics throughout the ’80s and ’90s – albums like Infected, Mind Bomb, and Dusk -Johnson spent the last 25 years composing music for film, documentaries, and art installations. It wasn’t until 2018, when he toured the band’s iconic hits and released the live album The Comeback Special: Live at the Royal Albert Hall, that he seriously considered creating new music for The The.
Now, Ensoulment marks a bold return, with themes ranging from life and death to war and politics. It’s a compelling statement from an artist who began his career in the late ’70s. Johnson’s lived experiences permeate the music, crafting a melancholic yet potent world where the threat of technology looms large and political divides run deep. It’s a welcome and timely comeback.
Johnson recently spoke about his role as a songwriter, being a seasoned pro as the alternative rock took shape in the early ’90s, and the role grief plays in his songwriting.
It seems to me like you have an observant eye on the world around you, both what’s within your reach and from a global perspective. What do you think your role is in all this? Do you see yourself as a casual observer, telling us what you’re witnessing? A narrator, a storyteller? The voice of reason, or dissent? Or a combination of some of these?
MATT: Well, as Nina Simone used to say, “Every artist has a duty to reflect the times they live in.” I try to do that, whether in 1987, reflecting on the times I was living through, Thatcherism, Reaganomics, the initial establishment of the neocon/neoliberal agenda, or now in 2024, dealing with the rise of AI and intimacy in an age of alienation. I aim to reflect the world as I see it.
As for being the “voice of dissent,” I don’t know. My brother once said something that stuck with me. We were driving, and someone was being reckless on the road. He said, “everyone thinks they drive at just the right speed, everyone else is too slow or too fast.” I extrapolated that to politics: everyone believes they’re in the right, while others are too far to the left or right. It’s a profound observation when you start to think about that, that every aspect of life, everyone else thinks they’re right. Maybe they are in their own way. And I’m not different. I read a lot; I travel a lot. It’s just a point of view, one amongst billions. It’s no more special than anyone’s point of view. All I can say, in my own defense, is I try to express myself sincerely. This is my point of view—based on my point of view and how I see things. I don’t know if I’m right, I might be wrong. I’m not setting myself up as a judge or jury things, it’s just a point of view and a point of view informed by veracious reading and traveling and experience. Some people will resonate with my point of view, a minority will. A majority probably wouldn’t have any interest in it.
The important thing is express myself truthfully throughout my career. From Burning Blue up to this point so far, it’s been an interesting document and a record from a teenage boy traveling the world to where I am now.
I’m an observer but at the same point, the title of my first album that was released on cassette – and I re-released later – was See Without Being Seen. I’ve never embraced the celebrity aspect of my career. I have to have a certain profile to promote the record, but I don’t consider myself a celebrity, I don’t particularly like fame. I like people to listen to the music, buy the records, come to the concerts, but I’m not interested in being personally recognized in the street. I find that very uncomfortable because it recognition undermines the value of being an observer. I prefer seeing myself observing slightly in the margins—slightly off-center, slightly out of the limelight but being able to observer and to maintain a career at a decent level without being too famous. It’s a balance.
That’s nice. I mean, from what you’re saying, I imagine you don’t get stopped in airports or at the grocery store?
MATT: Not very often. It happens occasionally, but when it does, it’s always nice. The people who recognize me are usually the coolest fans, so those interactions are pleasant. But I’ve seen what extreme fame can do to people. That’s pleasant because I’ve had friends who were extremely famous, and it destroys your life. What’s the point of having all that money and success if you have no privacy and you can’t even walk down to the local shop. It’s invaluable to be able to move around freely and live an ordinary life.
Alternative music really became a big deal in the early ’90s when Nirvana caused all the labels to start looking for new artists. You already had a career at this point, you weren’t part of that wave of bands being signed because everyone was trying to sign the “next big thing”. I have to believe that was a benefit having that experience under your belt.
MATT: Yeah. I did start quite early on. My first band formed when I was just 11, and we did cover versions of David Bowie, Deep Purple, The Beatles, and all that. We started writing our own songs. I was a bit of a truant—I dropped out of school at 15. I was fortunate to get a job at 15 in a recording studio and music publishers in Soho, London, which was brilliant for me because there was a lot of interesting clubs and bars.
At the age of 17, I formed The The and The The became part of what’s looked back on now as the post-punk British music scene which was very experimental, bands like Wire, This Heat, Throbbing Gristle and Cabaret Voltaire. I became friendly with them, I was much younger than those guys. I was this confident teenager with my own band, and I became part of that scene. I was signed to 4AD Records and released music on Cherry Red and Some Bizarre. Then, at 21, I signed with CBS. By that time, I had already released a number of records and played gigs. I did a lot for my age. So, by the late ’80s and early ’90s, I felt extremely experienced. I had been around the block a number of times already.
Is there anything you’ve carried over, something true to your core, from the early days of writing and recording? Do you follow the same habits when writing, or are there things from the studio that you repeat? Or are you always trying to start fresh when you write?
MATT: The most relevant thing I’ve carried over is that the music that I write has to move me emotionally. I have to get goosebumps, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, or I even cry sometimes. I’ve got to feel emotionally moved and I’ve always felt that regardless of whether I’m writing a song on acoustic guitar, keyboards, synthesizers, or drum machines, I’ve got to feel moved by it because if it doesn’t move me, it won’t move anyone else. Even if it does move me, it’s not necessarily going to move anyone else. The important thing is that I feel turned on by the music I’m creating otherwise you’re faking it. I don’t want to put out music I don’t believe in, I don’t want to do shows that I don’t believe in. If there’s one thing I’ve carried over from being a teenager, it’s that. As a teenager, I was so mad about music and singles, it affected me so much. If that didn’t happen, I wouldn’t want to do it. I wouldn’t want to put anything out.
In terms of the technology, when I first started, it was cassette recorders and small reel-to-reel tape machines. Now, we’ve got powerful digital editing and recording systems like Pro Tools. In some ways, option paralysis can set in because the technology is so powerful now and available, a kid in their bedroom can have plug-ins and emulations of Neve desks and API desks and Solid State desks and UREI compressors. One of the important skills in this day-and-age is knowing what to leave out and having strict parameters so you don’t get overwhelmed.
It’s like having a map at the start of a project. You need an idea of the destination, or you risk wandering in circles. Sometimes it can be fun to wander around in circles and not know where you’re going. But younger artists can get so overwhelmed with the technology that they end up getting lost. For me, I like to say, “I’ll only use this, this, and this” and have these very strict parameters. You’ll be surprised at how even more creative you can be by having fewer options. I’d say reducing options is a very powerful component of the creative process.
When you were signed to CBS, I assume you were on a schedule—write, record, tour, repeat. Did that cycle affect your approach?
MATT: They wanted to put me on one of those cycles, I resisted. I didn’t tour for my first few albums. In fact, my first real tour wasn’t until Mind Bomb. There was a lot of pressure, but I took my time making records, and I decided I didn’t want to go on tour, I’d rather make videos instead.
A lot of my contemporaries, like Depeche Mode and The Cure, it paid dividends to them. When I compare my career to some of my contemporaries, they were much harder working than me when it came to touring and promoting and they were more prolific. It paid off, they play stadiums and The The plays small arenas and large theaters. That difference is because of the hard work those guys did.
It was different for me because I didn’t have a set band lineup. I think had it been a set lineup, and in that situation, you all encourage each other and push each other on. But because it was just me, pretty much working solo but collaborating with different people from project to project, it was quite a different dynamic.
The way you record now, does it give you more time and flexibility? Are you still driven by deadlines, or do you have the freedom to release stuff when you want?
MATT: I’m very free now because I’ve got my own record company, Cineola. We’re in a partnership deal with earMUSIC, so I’ve got a small team of people who work me here. I’ve got offices and a studio. I’ve put together a really wonderful team and the band that I made the new album with is the band that I toured with for the Comeback Special, some of whom I’ve work with for many years. They’re brilliant musicians and wonderful people. It’s been a really enjoyable process, especially making the new album. There was a lot of fun and laughter and creativity—it’s a much happier situation for me than I was when I was in my twenties. It’s more relaxed, it’s more fun, it’s more creative.
Going back to what you said about your peers, maybe the scarcity of your live performances actually helps ticket sales? I mean, for this upcoming tour, everything’s pretty much sold out, right?
MATT: A lot of it has sold out, yeah, and hopefully the rest will, too. Tickets have been going well. It’s hard to compare because I don’t know what would’ve happened if I had toured every year. Maybe I’d be playing stadiums, or maybe I’d be playing tiny clubs because people might’ve gotten fed up. It’s very difficult to compare but the audience has been incredibly loyal and supportive, and performing for them is always a great experience.
I’ve never seen you live, but I imagine your fans get from your music the same thing you put into it. It must mean something deeply personal to them—it’s not like they’re coming for radio hits.
MATT: No, absolutely not. And it’s often music that has been involved in intimate parts of their life, possibly when they’ve gotten married or had a relationship break up or when somebody they’ve loved has died. Some of those songs become the soundtrack to those people’s lives. You feel that when you go onto a stage. It’s easy to think of the audience as one big, homogeneous blob, but it’s not. It’s made up of individuals who don’t know each other, most of them, and they’ve all got different experiences with the same song. It’s got thousands of different meanings to all these different people. It’s quite a moving experience – you come together and you’re looking at the audience or these wonderful individual people who bring their own energy. A singer/songwriter without an audience is just a bloke who sat in his bedroom with a guitar. The audience completes the circuit—they help create the magic. You do show and the audience responds in a certain way, it gives an emotional sustenance to the band. The band feels it and then hopefully magnifies it and sends it back.
Now, you talk about emotions and the range of life experiences you write about. If this is too personal, I completely understand, but you’ve experienced a lot of grief throughout your life. You’ve lost people far too early. I lost my 17-year-old daughter six years ago, and I know you lost your brother to an aneurysm, which is similar to what happened to my daughter. After that, I couldn’t listen to music or interview bands for a long time. With all the grief you’ve been through, do you find it therapeutic to dive into it through your music? Or do you sometimes have to take a step back to regain your passion?
MATT: I’m so sorry for your loss. Losing a child is the hardest thing anyone can go through. I’ve seen the impact it had on my parents, and it’s just unbelievably tragic. I’ve found that writing is very therapeutic for me, though. I’ve written four songs for people I’ve lost, and I hope I don’t have to write any more like that because it’s such a horrible thing to go through. The biggest show was when my brother Eugene died at 24. I was in Spain, and I didn’t know for a couple of days because there were no phones where I was. That was the absolute hammer blow. It was devastating, and it hit my mum really hard – she became quite ill from the grief and she died 10 years later.
I wrote “Love is Stronger Than Death” for Eugene to deal with that loss. When my mum passed, I wrote “Phantom Walls.” Then, a few years later, my poor brother Andrew, who designed all our album sleeves, became very ill and died. I wrote “We Can’t Stop What’s Coming” for him. Two years after that, our dad died just a few days before we were due to play to the Royal Albert Hall, and he was going to be in the audience watching. Being on stage dealing with that was quite difficult. I had to compartmentalize and be the professional, and just get on with it.
For my dad, I wrote “Where Do We Go When We Die?” on the new album. I cried while writing it, just like I did for the other songs. It’s my way of remembering them and overcoming my own grief, but I also hope it helps others in some way. I’ve had messages from people that tell me that “Love is Stronger Than Death” has moved people and helped them. We live in a culture that is a death-denying culture, and when we’re suddenly hit by it, we’re unprepared. Music has been my way of dealing with it and connecting with those I’ve lost. I don’t think death is the end. I have strong beliefs that we will reconnect with the people we’ve lost. Their energy is still with us.
I really appreciate the songs you’ve written. They offer me a lot of therapy, especially after experiencing grief. Without going through that, they’d still mean something to me, but they hit differently now. I know they’re hard to write and sing, but they do offer solace. So, thank you.
MATT: I’m glad to hear that. It’s really good to know.
Shifting topics, I’m curious about your relationship with modern technology. I know you often sing about themes related to AI, surveillance, control, and manipulation by technology or powers. Are you someone who adapts quickly to new tech? Do you enjoy getting the latest gadgets, or do you have a more cautious approach?
MATT: I’ve always been quite comfortable with technology. Within the band, we always had the latest technology. We had one of the first emulators in the UK in the ’80s, and we’ve generally use the latest ProTools system, the latest synthesizers. So, I’m comfortable with the tools. I obviously use phones and laptops. But like most people, I’m very aware of the thin line between using technology and becoming a slave to it.
With the rise AI, that brings some concerns. That is now changing the relationship between the technology and the human operating it. There was a recent Australian report where they did this test showing that people couldn’t distinguish between communicating with AI and a human. It’s still in its infancy and is going to become more and more powerful. It raises a lot of interesting questions about the nature of humanity. It raises a lot of interesting philosophical questions about what makes us human. Maybe AI will wind up becoming more moral than humans.
The real concern is about who’s programming it, who’s controlling it? It’s like nuclear power. On one hand, nuclear power could be used to power cities and hospitals and schools and restaurants. All positive manner of things. On the other side of the coin, it can be used to destroy these various cities.
I enjoy technology but I think we have to be very, very wary of the balance shifting. Who’s controlling it? Where’s this leading us? I’m a healthy sceptic.
You’ve got a bunch of dates lined up, many of which are already sold out. Is this tour a short-term plan, or do you have more long-term touring goals?
MATT: There will be more dates next year. Right now, it’s Northern Europe, the UK, the U.S., Australia, and New Zealand. But I’ve heard about more dates being proposed. I’m also working on another large book project. It’s a biographical coffee table book. I’ve also signed a new publishing deal, and I want to start working on a new album. Touring can be exhausting and time-consuming, so I’ll need to balance that with the other projects I’m excited to dive into.
Do you feel like you’ve found a new burst of energy, or is this just a continuation of the drive you’ve always had?
MATT: It feels like a new energy, even though there were 25 years between albums. During that time, I wasn’t idle—I was doing film soundtracks, publishing books, and traveling. I’m always doing something, even if it’s not in the public eye. But this feels different. I’m really enjoying working with the musicians on this new project. It’s been a lot of fun, filled with laughter and creativity, and I’m excited to be back on the road again.
