“Are you alright, sweetheart?”
Backstage at Chicago’s Lincoln Hall, Matty Healy, frontman of the adorable British indie-popstars The 1975 stood over me, reaching his hands out to pull me off the ground. Debuting my 6-inch heels tonight was a bad decision, something I’m willing to admit only after cascading down a flight of stairs before our interview.
“I wear shoes like that all the time, and I usually fall, too,” he assures me, as he links his arm in mine. “That was a nasty spill you had there. Are you sure you’re alright?”
Although that was easily the most embarrassing 30 seconds of my life, I saw a unique side of Matty. Sure, like any other rockstar, his coolness oozed out of his pores: he had a chiseled jawbone, spoke in a thick British accent, wore a dark, curled Mohawk and carried a cigarette between his fingers at all times. But he was remarkably sincere, rare for his stature.
His sincerity carries through his career as he defends his passion for pop, leading him to write songs for pop artists such as One Direction. And, after major labels scoffed at The 1975’s self-titled EP, they re-recorded the album with Mike Crossey (Arctic Monkeys, Two Door Cinema Club) with the help of indie label Dirty Hit and reached the Top 20 in the U.S. and the U.K. with their catchy single, “Chocolate.” The album, Healy says, is inspired by John Hughes and the perspective of a teenager, tinged with ‘80s glistening pop synths and pulsating R&B additives.
Healy says without unabashed pop sensibilities, The 1975 wouldn’t be able to reach as much success as they have today. In the end, sincerity has given them the freedom to be who they’ve always wanted to be.
Why are you inspired by John Hughes?
Matt Healy: I think it was the fact that I first fell in love with music through film; incidental music, the idea of music evoking and at some point commanding you to be emotional. I didn’t realize on a technical level what it was—major scale music [arranged] the right way— but it informed my stylistic knowledge of music and how it works. So in retrospect, I think that’s why I like John Hughes. But I also think [about the time] before being a teenager, you have this really romanticized view of what being a teenager is like. When you are a teenager, you have this apocalyptic sense of being a teenager, and when you leave being a teenager you have again a romanticized view of your past. It’s a nice perfect circle, and I think our album is a tribute to that. Everybody sees their teenage years as a Polaroid, a clinical image. And that’s all John Hughes’ movies are about.
But when The 1975 were teenagers you guys made punk music.
I think that comes from the fact when we were 13, 14 [years old]. Especially [being] in the U.K., you’re quite self-aware at that age. Heavy music, alternative music: if that’s where your friends are, that’s where you are. That’s where we started out. When we realized music was a genuine form of creative expression, that’s when our true influences came out.
So now are you where you want to be, musically speaking?
I don’t think any true artist is really where they want to be. I’m very, very proud of [our debut] record, but I think that record even in its narrative is defined by the evolution of personality and the evolution of the sense of self. I think that’s my problem — I’m always evolving, as soon as I’m working on some- thing and I’m almost done with it I’m on to the next. I’m where I’ve dreamt of being, so I’m happy in that regard.
“We are defined by being quite indefinable.”
How has your music changed since signing to a major label?
Signing to the majors didn’t change anything. We got wined and dined by all the majors in 2011, 2012, and no one would sign us. Everyone was telling me then, “There is not any fluency on this record,” but I was thinking, ‘That’s like buying into what hundreds of thousands of people already have.’ They’d say, “You don’t know who you want to be.” We’ve known who we want to be, we’re just a lot of different people. So that’s why we did it ourselves. And when “Chocolate” came out, we signed to Universal [U.S.] So we were in the perfect position, there was a lot more free reign. We are signed to a major, but we have full creative control.
What was it like working with indie producer Mike Crossey?
When we were re-recording the album, all these producers came in and said “I want this, I want that,” and Mike was the first producer to come along and say, “I really want to be a part of what you’re doing.” He’s really understanding and very, very good at making us feel like we were in control. So we were able to make the whole record into the sonic expression that we never had the opportunity to make.
Do you think that being labeled under a specific genre is limiting?
It’s funny, people have so many misconceptions about our band as this really polished pop project, when actually we’re just this experimental R&B band who just wrote a poppy record for fun, and lots of people embrace it. We are defined by being quite indefinable. I think everyone in my generation — your generation — we create the same way that we consume, in that no one consumes in a linear format. It’s more like the human eye, and the fact that there is a stylistic polarity running through our material, that’s a representation of who we are as people, not because we don’t know what’s going on, it’s because that’s how we were brought up.
Do you feel pressure to stick to the sound you’ve created for this album?
I don’t feel any pressure, but that’s because all of our music was written before anyone knew who our band was. It wasn’t like we wrote something and someone was like “That’s good, let’s have some more of that.” For example, let’s suppose our band is something you find tucked in a tent at a festival. More people keep discovering it and coming in. We didn’t go looking for any- one, everyone just came and found us and really embraced us. We’re all a bit weird, but we didn’t have to change. We don’t have to change, because if we changed, that’s not what people would want.
What are your future plans?
It’s quite a simple question, but I don’t know. The only thing I want is to stay true to ourselves and create records that really reflect who we are and where we are. It’s the only thing we can do. It’s fucking pop music. We shouldn’t take it so seriously.