Twin Shadow’s debut last year was as smooth as they come, drenched in lush, dense synths and suave fragile guitar hooks that nodded heavily at the new wave days of old. The 4AD release was produced by Grizzly Bear’s Chris Taylor, who took the already shiny and made it glistening to the point of dazzling. It was textural and sensual, and the deeply layered songs became spectacularly furnished by Taylor. It was a record that sparkled and fizzed, seductive yet sinister, sleazy yet sexy. It seemed to have its sonic fingers in a few different pies; there were nods to the wonky disco of Arthur Russell and Talking Heads, and the bleak humility of some of The Cure’s work. It seemed to appear from nowhere and yet it remains one of 2010’s strongest releases. In a year dominated by the ambiguous meanderings of chill-wave, here came a record that - while it may share an influence or two with said genre - managed to distinguish itself from it by placing focus heavily on structure, melody and the songs themselves. George Lewis Jr. (Twin Shadow) certainly knows his way around a melody, and its his immersion in the song structures and gleaming soundscapes that brings about such a rewarding record. Tonight as I encounter him live, he morphs into another creature altogether. In the live environment, the record’s caramel smoothness transforms into a gritty post-punk snarl that adds a twang and visceral edge - not necessarily absent on the album, but certainly sugar coated - the results often lying somewhere between Buzzcocks, Orange Juice and ‘Tango In The Night’-era Fleetwood Mac. It adds a further depth and diversity but also opens up an explosive element that the refined coolness of the record didn’t always display, which makes the prospect of future Twin Shadow releases very exciting. I caught up with George post-show to map his journey…
So, after a brief spell in a punk band, a period writing performance dance music and an interlude in a “60’s garage-rock, country type band, playing bass” what spawned the solo project of Twin Shadow? Breaking free from working with other people? “Being disappointed in people’s behaviour in bands I guess, there is so much unnecessary drama and so much insecurity, which turns into an ego trip, which is bullshit because most of the time I was thinking - ‘you’re really not that good, so why are you tripping? What’s going on?’ So, it really started to bother me that everything was just a process, you couldn’t just play a chord a certain way, everything had to be discussed and I just didn’t want to have those discussions any more”. So, whilst on record George has managed to create his own private, enclosed sonic-world and stable working environment, how has this affected the live shows, in which he is still dependent on other members? “Well, they’re friends and amazing musicians” and he continues to explain member by member how he secured their services and why - this clearly adhering to George’s need for control and professionalism in his music. He explains these details with such conviction and ease that it feels like a manager naming his squad before a big game; we know they are all vital players, but one guy calls the shots - and everybody else knows this too.
The album drew a lot of comparative reviews, often singling out specific artists, sounds and movements as though the record was a homage of sorts, has the general interpretation been an accurate one? “Yeah, pretty much. I mean, I don’t pay too much attention to what people write about it. I get more from people who I speak to after shows, actual audience members and listeners”. This certainly seems to be true, only five minutes after the band have finished playing I find George mingling at the merch table, speaking to fans and intently listening to them (until I steal him away that is). “Non-musicians are the people I like to talk to,” he later states.
What soon becomes refreshing (unlike the tepid Carlsberg we gobble down) is Lewis’s attitude and work ethic when it comes to music, “We’re the fucking slacker generation man and I think it’s bullshit!” This response stems from a question relating to an early album press release which clearly and proudly declared it something that George had worked harder on than anything else in his entire life. This notion, acceptance and proclamation, I noted was a rarity and questioned whether George had any ideas on why? On top of the above reaction. “I used to subscribe to that too, nothing should be perfect, the whole ‘if you’re working too hard then you’re trying too hard’, its all bullshit. Nothing comes easy, unless you’re a genius and then even if you are a genius, you’re not going to get noticed unless you work hard at it. It’s the slacker mentality, it’s not worth anything, and it’s making us the most boring generation ever to exist. We’re not sweating out there, you know?” His approach borders on indignant - not in a particularly vicious manner, but one born out of frustration and disappointment. “I mean I don’t want to put all my values on anybody else, but during this record was really tough. It was really hard on my relationships; I cut off everything, my family, my friends, everything. I sat in my house and I made a record and I didn’t even know I was making a record, I just knew I wanted to sit and write songs - there was no goal. I worked really hard because I was really disappointed with my life, I didn’t know what my life was doing, so it was everything I could do to save my…” for a moment it seems as though ‘life’ is going to come out of his mouth, but he re-thinks his words and mumbles “… my opinion of music and what I wanted to do with my life,” it seems that declaring himself his own personal musical saviour would perhaps not translate too well in print, but in context it makes perfect sense. Honesty and sincerity, it seems, are qualities never far from George’s mind or lips, and he openly continues to talk about the intense personal demons that he fought whilst immersing himself in this record “after days of having little to no sleep, I would start to get really paranoid and after the record wasn’t turning out the way I hoped, I felt I was lying to myself and that happened a lot, a lot of self-loathing.” Continuing even to state, “There’s a voice in your head that says ‘you’re a fucking joke’ and that voice is hard to conquer. That voice lives very much inside of me”.
For a man I have only met fifteen minutes ago, he is staggeringly open to me. A gusto-ridden ‘all or nothing’ attitude clearly burns within, and fortunately this obsessive nature and intense approach has paid off and sent him overseas - landing him here in Manchester. “I’ve been wanting to play here for eleven years!” and not at an asylum, sat rocking at a window. The conditions described, oddly, are not personalities that shine through on the album. George paints a picture of a home in which a sole man sits in pitch black, amongst a sea of synthesisers, guitars and screens with ravaged blood shot eyes and voices rattling around a sleep deprived brain. Instead, the result sounds like it was made on a Miami Beach with bikini-clad girls and cocktails all round; further testament to Lewis’s focused and dedicated approach, regardless of personal mindset or environment. While I have undeniably extracted the most solemn aspects of our encounter for this interview, George is not a downbeat person, radiating enthusiasm and charm, but his journey is too substantial not to focus on - especially in an industry that now often thrives on lackadaisical offerings.
So, it seems Twin Shadow’s debut album ‘Forget’ may just be the most lobotomised piece of work we’ve seen produced in recent years. If he doesn’t kill himself making his second record, it will no doubt be of momentous achievement.