Psyche Is The New Black: Interview with Simon Finn

The classic Japanese Noh Theater Performer and Theorist, Zeami, describes the central principle of the Noh drama is "yugen" ("mystery," "depth," "darkness," "beauty," "elegance"), the intimation of a concealed truth, what Zeami Motokiyo defines as "Hana," the art of the flower of mystery. Music, like Noh, relies upon the element of mystery and surprise to create magic. The most provocative performance is that which conceals beauty, and has a hidden flower blooming at its core.

I was both surprised and impressed by the performance Simon Finn gave last Thursday, which struck a cord of the unreal, the unexpected, the beautiful; Simon reinvented and reinvigorated the songs he had not touched for 34 years. His songs were both old and new, some written in the late 1960s, some written over the last six months. Upon arriving at the venue, I spotted simon instantly. He was sitting at the bar drinking a small glass of something dark, which I later discovered was red wine (Simon's preferred performance anxiety remedy). After building up confidence enough to speak to him, I asked Simon a few questions before his performance. He seemed like the kind of man who had spent his life doing what he needed to do, his skin was shining, and I could not believe it had been over thirty years since his last musical performance. He informed me that he was brought back into the realm of music by something so far from the hippie-psych past he emerged from, it's laughable. He was returned to music via Google.

Simon's friend had introduced him to the internet search engine, when he discovered a 2002 review of his limited release album, Pass The Distance, and said "If you want to be found, there are people looking for you." Shortly after that, Simon was connected with David Tibet, of Durtro Records and began the quest of finding the recording reels from decades before. Simon traveled from his Canadian home to England where he managed to hunt down his former producer, who had some of the reels in his garden shed and the others in his mother's closet. Eventually, Pass the Distance was rereleased by Durtro in 2004. That was all the info I gleaned from Mr. Finn before he began to take photos of the band performing on stage, The Skygreen Leopards This group formed in 2001, the duo of Donovan Quinn & Glenn Donaldson now joined by Duchess Christine Boepple playing a strange breed of folk-psych music with guitar, percussion, ankle bells & train-whistle. They were preceded by Whysp, a band who play some pub-psyche-folk to sing to. Whysp is the brain child of Josh Alper and Hugh Holden, Santa Cruz favorites (of The Lowdown) who are playing with a band of bards in the merriest of musical modes.

Moreover, after the performances had finished and Mr. Finn had played my request of Hiawatha, with a sensitive tenacity, I asked him a few more questions about his past. In the 1960s he arrived in London, with thirty pounds, which he quickly spent. He then started playing shows at The Marquee opening for Al Stuart, for about one pound per night. Eventually he got a job which afforded him a bedsit in London. He played the song "Big White Car" for producer Vik Keary, who liked it, and started to pay Simon about 12 pounds per week. Soon after Simon released Pass the Distance on Mushroom records.

Then Simon told me about some of the new songs he had played which are yet to be released. One of the tracks which struck a deep resonance within met was about Eros (the Greek God of love) driving a man around in a fast car toward the future. I asked him why the main character of the song was shot with the arrow of love, but never found the other person hit with the arrow? Where was his true love? Was it the mermaid whom he found solace with in the song? Simon informed me that it was a song about unrequited love and that the mermaid in the song was just the person who "makes you feel better," not a true love. Another new song speaks a close friend and mentor, who contracted Alzheimer's disease, and quickly deteriorated. However, the impetus for the song seemed so far from the delivery and lyrics, that I would have never guessed it's inspiration. "That song is about memory" Simon told me, with a serious stare. As he shared his secrets with me I felt young and sheepish, because I was not seeing the root of the metaphors of the lyrics, which seemed to be a bit more veiled and sophisticated then his older songs. In that way, I feel like his work has developed into something reflective of thirty added years of experience. It seems, however, that his gift remains somewhat the same, it is that which allows us to touch on the pain that is deep, by providing us the light and imagination to see through it. I look forward to hearing his new album, which is recorded, but Simon is currently working on the cover for it. He hopes it will be released by April 2005.