Off the back of releasing her second solo LP, Red Kite, the singer-songwriter and Saint Etienne member diligently jogged her memory, picked her 13 top records and made annotations. She talks Gary Kaill through her notes
"Ah, a pussy cat! He's cute!" Oh dear. The perils of Skype laid bare in a mere half dozen words. Part way through our interview, Sarah Cracknell takes five to go and search for a phone charger and to deal with children returning home from school. Halfwit here uses the break to let the cat in, who, predictably enough, heads straight for desk and laptop. And unwittingly exposes his hapless owner's technical inadequacies with barely a swish of his tail, the little swine. "You can see me?" I splutter. "Yeah!" says Cracknell. "Can't you see me?" That would be a no. "Oh, don't worry," she laughs. "I'd have said if you'd been doing anything embarrassing."
It might not have been quite the busiest year of their quarter-century career but Saint Etienne's 2015 has been industrious enough to keep the hardcore happy. Having premiered the Pete Wiggs-scored soundtrack to Paul Kelly's cinematic ode to London How We Used To Live at the Barbican late last year, the band took the show on tour for selected dates, accompanying the visuals as a live six-piece and throwing in a best of set for good measure.
Cracknell is unfashionably forthcoming when we touch on the prospect of new Saint Etienne material: "We always start with vague mutterings about doing something new. We all start to feel like it's the right time and I think that's happening at the moment. So we're starting to talk about doing another record, definitely. It's not going to come out immediately but it's in the offing." In the meantime, the band round out the year with a string of their by-now traditional Christmas shows, promising festive reworkings ("Actually, no, we've not had Mr Burgess join us for 'I Was Born On Christmas Day' for a while now. Maybe I'll ask him…") and a set packed with fan favourites.
But forget the day job for a moment. Over the summer, Cracknell released her second solo record Red Kite, the long-awaited successor to 1997's Lipslide. A deeper and more fully realised work than the debut, its pop sensibilities come as no surprise, and neither does its songcraft, but a breezy pastoral vibe gives it breadth and colour. It's a beguiling and singular work, and more than just mere filler for while her band is otherwise engaged. Cracknell takes it on the road for a second set of solo dates, including a show at London's Cadogan Hall later this month supported by Jane Weaver. "I love Jane Weaver," she says. "That's one record I've really enjoyed this year. Amazing."
Indeed, when we shift to discuss her Baker's Dozen choices, she goes so far as to say that it [The Silver Globe] nearly made the cut. A couple of others came close. "I really should have included some Kate Bush," says Cracknell. "The Kick Inside is my absolute favourite of hers. I nearly included The Beatles' Revolver, too. Ah well. The thing is, I've got a memory like a sieve, so I've really had to work at this and properly sit down and give it some thought. So if you hear the rustling of paper, that's me going back over my notes."
Laura Nyro and Labelle - Gonna Take A Miracle
It's just an amazing collaboration and they're all covers, as far as I'm aware, soul and R&B covers. But the combination of Labelle's and Nyro's voices is just fantastic. I'm a massive fan of her voice. It's really, really beautiful and uplifting. 'I Met Him On A Sunday': that's my favourite track - it's probably everyone's favourite track. The whole album has that slight gospel thing going on, which is great. I never got to see her play live because she died in the '90s but my husband did and he says she was amazing. So yeah, one of my absolute favourite voices. That said, as I've been going over my list these past few days, and reconsidering artists like Laura Nyro, I realise there aren't that many female singers on my list. I'm pretty outraged with myself, to be fair, but I love Laura Nyro, love her deeply.
Felt - The Splendour Of Fear
I'm just the biggest Felt fan. I was living in Windsor and I had a little Citroën 2CV, and I'd cram my friends in and we'd drive to Felt gigs all over the country. It's the only group I became a real completist about - I had everything that they ever put out. And Splendour Of Fear is quite funny, really. Some of the lyrics are just hilarious. It's just so grand and ethereal and cosmic. Maurice Deebank on guitar is incredible - much of it is centered around his playing. I did a track with him, actually. I brought him in, because I was such a fan of his guitar playing, to play on a Saint Etienne track called 'Paper'. I love Lawrence's voice, which hasn't changed, really. It's still all there. He's genuinely eccentric. I know him well, now. He's a very, very funny man, Lawrence. I knew he'd be very deadpan but he's so funny, and he's a real perfectionist and gets very deeply involved in every aspect of his work. Which is just like Saint Etienne, in that we're very particular about how we're put across. It doesn't make any sense to me to make a record and then let someone else go and do what they want with how you're presented. My favourite track on the album is 'The Stagnant Pool' which has these grand, flighty, surreal lyrics. Wonderful.
One of those records I just played over and over again. Their best album, definitely. Some people might disagree. I was living in a flat on my own and I'd moved to West London and so it kind of reminds me of that time. I'd play it before I went out and then I'd play it again. I really liked the production, those kind of distorted drums. It's produced by Dave Fridmann and he's got this really distinctive, vibey style. The songs are very uplifting, especially 'Race For The Prize'. It's very orchestral and euphoric. It's playful but it's never silly.
T. Rex - Electric Warrior
Most people pick Slider, don't they? Which is great and also brilliant. He's the perfect pop star. Who knows what he would have done had he not died young? I first heard him when I was very young, a proper kid. I'd dig out his really early stuff and fire it up on my mum's Disc-Jockey Junior. He just ticked the right boxes for a kid, you know? It's quite cartoon-like, the really early stuff. And then when he went more glam and that whole style started to emerge, that's when I started to take Marc Bolan more seriously. He's so beautiful, as a man. He dressed so well and wore this wonderful sparkly make-up. And he wore a feather boa - I'm quite partial to a feather boa. I just fell in love with him, basically. Not, you know, properly. I was probably a bit too young, but he was so captivating on the telly. Such a genuine eccentric. 'Jeepster' is great and 'Get It On' is great but he was also good at melancholy songs, too. Not sad, but melancholy, which is far more interesting.
Dinosaur Jr. - Where You Been
A record that I played over and over again. So much of it is down to J Mascis' vocals. I like the fact that he sounds like he's on the verge of tears all the time. Or is, in fact, crying a little bit already while he's singing. Which is great. So much melody and it's almost disguised. When you go and see them live, certainly back then, it really was just this wall of sound. But somewhere in there, if you dig deep, you can pick out these real, amazing pop melodies. He's an amazing songwriter. I've seen them live as a band but I also saw him play an acoustic gig in London, just him and a guitar, and I was a bit tipsy when I arrived. And all these people were sitting on the floor! I was outraged. I was going around going: "Get up! Show some respect! This is the man! What are you doing?" I also met him once when we played a festival together somewhere in Europe - I can't remember where. But, believe it or not, we shared a dressing room with them and as soon as I saw him I had to go over and say hello and I think I went a bit overboard with all the gushiness. He was lovely but he looked a little bit scared.
The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds
I like it so much for how it uses strange sounds and instruments and the fantastic harmonies. But what I find most compelling is the production. I get that a lot with music: strange sounds and production techniques and I'm immediately attracted to it. I like things that sound a bit odd and Brian Wilson was just the king of that, wasn't he? I don't actually know how long he spent on Pet Sounds but you can tell a lot of work has gone into it. Again, another genuine eccentric. Slightly mad, actually, in his case, I think. Comes out in the music. I know that everything that's worth saying about this has probably been said, but it's still quite incredible.
Elvis Costello - My Aim Is True
You know, I was a closet Elvis Costello fan for years and then discovered that my husband was also a closet Elvis Costello fan. So I thought we should get out of the closet. So out of the closet we got. Yeah. My Aim Is True was quite important to me when I was young - about ten or whatever. My best friend's name was Alison and I was hugely envious that she had this song, this perfect song, with her name as the title. It's such a fabulous, heart-wrenching song. If you put this album on, I'll sing along with every word. I know every word and I think that means, for me anyway, it's just great songwriting. I do know and like some of his other stuff but it's all about which ones meant something to you at a particular point in time. So, for me, this is the one I really know and remember. You know, girls tend to grow up a little bit quicker than boys and so it was just at that time I was starting to look at boys, and songs like 'Alison' touched me in a way. I got it. It was a change in me at that point.
Blondie - Parallel Lines
It's funny, but the same friend, Alison, was my best friend for years. And she had an older brother and his whole room was covered in pictures of Debbie Harry. Well I quite fancied her brother, so I was quite jealous and I consoled myself with knowing that he was never going to meet her. But, anyway, I gradually started to see how brilliant she was and I started to see the merit in her band. She became quite an inspiration to me because she wasn't just a girl at the front of a band: she was part of this thing as much as the guys. She looked fantastic, she sang brilliantly. I saw her not so long ago and she still sung brilliantly. Yeah, I just wanted to be her, really. For me, Parallel Lines is a classic pop record - there are so many great songs on it.
Soul II Soul - Club Classics Vol. One
This is another one I put on the list and then decided I should probably listen to it again first just to make sure I wasn't going mad or something. So this takes me back again. I'd gone to drama school in 1988 and I was living in a flat in Boston Manor near Ealing, and I used to have all the people from college round every night of the week, practically. I had a party flat. You know how someone always has the party flat? It was me. And this was what we used to dance to and of course budding young actors all love to dance and show off. To me, it was quite a new sound: quite poppy, bit of soul, a bit R&B, a bit hip-hop, lots of beats. It's still being ripped off today, so there's the measure of it. And Caron Wheeler had such a great voice. They were this really cool collective. They did clothes and other things, and there was this big gang of them and I kind of liked that. My friend went to see them not so long ago because they've been doing gigs in the past few years and she said that it was great.
Massive Attack - Blue Lines
Shara Nelson is incredible. We ended up working with her - well, Bob [Bob Stanley] and Pete did, really. Again, another record from when dance music was really evolving: all those beats and new sounds. People were going off in weird and wonderful directions and with Massive Attack it was almost orchestral. Again, melancholy: always the best thing in music. You were starting to hear songs that were longer, too, and they were being played on the radio, which was pretty amazing. Yeah, big soft spot for Massive Attack. They were another collective type, weren't they?
You always hope and imagine with a band like that that they all live together in a big house. You picture them in a big squat, just living and breathing music together. Mmm. I suspect that wasn't the case somehow. Did we ever live together? We did actually, yeah. Do you know, it's actually really nice when you're living together and recording. And for my last album, everyone who was working on it was staying in the house. It helps the creative process, I think, when you're in each other's pockets. You're all on the same mission. We're not like Fleetwood Mac, though. None of this start at midnight and work through the night business. We're more like start early and then have a break for tea and cake.
De La Soul - 3 Feet High And Rising
That's something that me, Bob and Pete really bonded over, our love of De La Soul. They were just so upbeat. It was a really kind of jolly rap. Oh no, that sounds awful: jolly rap. Don't say I said jolly rap! What I mean is that they were rapping but it was filled with positivity. 'Me Myself And I' - that's a very positive message. Again, we'd listen when we were dancing around getting ready to go out and you'd hear it in the clubs. Loved all the imagery, all that daisy age design. I never saw them but I've got a funny feeling Pete did.
Public Image Ltd - Metal Box
I was introduced to Metal Box by someone I was in a band [Prime Time] with years ago, called Mick Bund. We were in a band together for years and we shared a flat together for years. We were in a flat on the King's Road, which sounds very fancy, but we were absolutely penniless - no money at all. The record is like the theme tune to our time in that flat. We had no money, so we couldn't do anything or go anywhere. I remember one of the guys in the flat had a mother who lived on a farm in Devon and she gave him a sack of potatoes - that kept us going for about a month. So because we had no money, we'd just sit and listen to music, and so we played Metal Box non stop. I mean, the fact that it's in a metal box for a start is pretty great. They rust, though. I've not got my original anymore because I upgraded to a non-rusting version. I just love the great guitars by Keith Levine and the Jah Wobble bass. Jah Wobble was very glowing about my Red Kite album recently in some review, so that was nice. I was well chuffed. But anyway, again, it's that thing about these long meandering tracks. I like things that go round and round. It's good to have things that are cyclical. It doesn't have to be all sweet two-minute pop songs. I never met John Lydon and I'm not sure I want to. He's become a little bit of a caricature, hasn't he? Didn't he go in the jungle? What was he thinking?
Carroll Thompson - Hopelessly In Love
I've always liked lovers rock, that whole West London feel, but I never really knew anything about the genre or the scene. But I was out one day walking around the record shops and I saw this album and the cover just struck me. She's there, sat on the bonnet of a car, looking so cool and wearing what's probably real fur, looking great. There's this song called 'I'm So Sorry', which I just fell in love with and played over and over again. But since getting into it, I've spoken to people who know about this stuff and it's considered pretty seminal and it's actually a really important lovers rock record. So, yeah, despite all of that, I bought it on the strength of the cover, so there you go! It has got that distinct London feel, lovely high-pitched singing and broken-hearted sentiments.
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