Feeder time

March 11, 2005
Showing their depth, from left: Mark Richardson, Taka Hirose and Grant Nicholas.

Photo: Supplied

Three years after the death of his band's drummer, Feeder frontman Grant Nicholas feels ready to take on the world again. By Andrew Murfett.

On January 7, 2002,  Feeder drummer Jon Lee called his band's frontman and guitarist Grant Nicholas from his Miami home. Nicholas was screening calls and when the caller ID displayed an unidentifiable number, he ignored the call. Lee called again a few minutes later and Nicholas once more ignored it. Only 20 minutes later, Lee had hanged himself.

Three years later, Nicholas, 37, is at home in North London preparing for a world tour to promote Feeder's fifth album, Pushing the Senses. Unlike the aptly titled collection of cleansing songs preceding it, Comfort In Sound, the new record has more universal themes, Nicholas believes. Yet he remains acutely aware that trainspotters will be looking for macabre references on any Feeder release.

The story of Lee and Nicholas is a long one. They first met as teenagers growing up in Wales and crossed paths through several bands.

Nicholas had the idea for Feeder just before he moved from Wales to London, where he landed a job in a recording studio.

"I did it for three years and realised I was missing playing live too much," he says.

He kept in touch with Lee, regularly sending him songs and demos, until Lee moved to London and the two began Feeder in 1991.

The swift departure of their first bass player prompted a parade of auditions, none of whom impressed Nicholas. But an ad placed in free-listings mag Loot by Japanese bassist Taka Hirose caught Nicholas' eye. After meeting in Camden for drinks, the two immediately clicked and Hirose has been Feeder's bassist ever since.

An alternative rock band built around heavy guitars and strong pop melodies, Feeder were out of sync with the Britpop-obsessed scene and had trouble getting a record deal. However, when US bands such as Smashing Pumpkins began to appear, Feeder found their fortunes improved, touring consistently most of England's fleapit venues and garnering a cult following.

"It was a difficult time, because it was very much about image and fashion and we didn't fit into that. When the whole American thing exploded, we began to get a little bit of rock press on our side and we eventually signed to an indie label (Echo)," Nicholas says.

An EP, Swim, was followed by a debut album, Polythene, in 1997. With US college radio reaching out and the single High making the soundtrack of a Jennifer Love Hewitt film, the band headed to the US for a nine-month tour.

The band produced another middling album, Yesterday Went Too Soon, before their breakthrough Echo Park, with its irresistible single Buck Rogers. Feeder finally had a certified hit and Nicholas noticed the media's change of attitude.

"It's three minutes of music that really helped the band crash into a massive audience," he says. "I don't think it's the best thing I've ever written but it needed to happen. We'd been bubbling for ages with a cult following - suddenly it was blown open."

Nicholas still vividly recalls the night Jon Lee met his wife-to-be, Brazilian model Tatiana Englehart, in Miami. The band were touring with now-defunct US rockers Everclear.

Nicholas recalls: "He decided to stay behind after the show and went on the Everclear crew bus. The next morning when I saw him, he said he'd met this girl and she was the one."

Lee became engaged to Englehart and the couple settled in her south Florida home. He continued to commute to Britain for recording and tour obligations.

Nicholas insists it was a viable option. "I knew how committed to it Jon was. I mean, we started it together, it was his life, he loved it. He did worry about things being difficult when he was away. Obviously, he worried about the travel too."

Both Nicholas and Hirose went to ground after Lee's death.

"It was an horrendous time," Nicholas says. "It was so out of the blue. Jon was so full of life, he was the last person you'd expect to do that."

Hirose went home to Japan; Nicholas, who found he was unable to relax, headed to the studio.

"We hadn't decided whether we were going to carry on again, we didn't know whether it was the right thing to do, whether we'd even be able to or whether people would accept us. So I went into a studio with an engineer, the same way I usually work, locking myself away for about a month and found the songs came in a short time."

"It sounds odd but I think that the whole shock of it worked for me in a quite positive way. It made me really try things and do the music I really wanted to make. Even though I was very low at the time, I felt quite free because there were no ties.

"I've always made music that I hope people will like but I seemed to be focusing on making sure we were really happy before we put it to anybody else.

"We felt it was worth trying to continue after all we had put in, and honestly, he'd have expected us to. It was a difficult time because he was such a big personality."

Gil Norton (Foo Fighters, Pixies) returned as producer, along with Nicholas' usual engineer Matt Syme, noted for his percussion programming. Nicholas says Syme's knowledge of Lee's technique and style made it possible to electronically recreate some of his playing style, and they also enlisted the talents of former Skunk Anansie drummer Mark Richardson.

The poignant Comfort In Sound was a huge success in Britain, selling 600,000 copies.

"I always worried about the sympathy factor," Nicholas says. "But people's sympathy only goes so far, people have to like what they hear." He acknowledges that some reviewers held their fire. "Look, some went a little easier than normal. But we still had some bad reviews."

Nicholas is something of a control freak. He reads all the band's press and regularly visits eBay, where he found a rare copy of Feeder's first demo EP, Two Colours, going for £200.

"It's about the music for me but at the end of the day it's still a business and I want to know if people are doing their job, otherwise we can't achieve what we need to achieve.

"I know I shouldn't read reviews," he says, "but I'm curious about the songs people like and what they think of them. I don't take it too personally. You can tell if people have really listened to the album or not by the way it's written."

He resents the common perception that he is Feeder. "We do talk, no matter what people may see on the outside," he says.

But can the other members contribute to songs?

"Sometimes," Nicholas says. "We're a band and it's important to have ideas. But you can't force them to come in with tunes. On the last two albums, I know there haven't been as much of that as there used to be. Everybody brings something to a song and the future's open. It may work differently on the next album, I don't know."

As Nicholas heads off to rehearsals, I ask him how different the songs would be if Jon Lee was still alive.

"We've moved on as much as we can," he says. "It's sad but at the same time I feel that if Jon was around, maybe the songs would be about different things, but we'd still be making these kind of records."

Nick Duerden, a senior writer for Q magazine, has followed the band's progress from its infancy. "Occasional attention-grabbing singles aside, they were always fairly faceless," he says. "Ironically, Jon's death made them less so."

Duerden believes Nicholas was more than entitled to continue the band. "Suicide is a tragedy," he says. "But should everybody else's life be abruptly curtailed also? Grant's life had been Feeder, for well over a decade at the point of Jon's death. To walk away would have been terrible and, more importantly, pointless. He has more to say now, through music, than ever.

"Jon's death gave them an edge, a certain cachet, and I suppose it is true that this latest album wouldn't be as good, as profound, had the tragedy not occurred," Duerden says.

The next day, Nicholas has a spring in his step. Rehearsals are nearly over and, with the help of a couple of samples, the band can play every track from Pushing the Senses live. Comfort In Sound was haunting, thanks to the instruments and the candour of Nicholas' lyrics. Led by anthemic single Stumble and Fall, this new album is something of a watershed for Nicholas, whose writing subconsciously gravitates towards Lee.

"You don't even realise you're doing it sometimes but I've learnt a bit and accepted everything now - this album's more positive about moving on. Yeah, there's some melancholic songs but it's also a lot of really optimistic tracks."

The song Frequency is a case in point.

"There's a little bit of the past there. Obviously losing something, you know there's Jon, but to me, it's something that isn't there, almost wishing you could go back and say some things you don't have a chance to say."

Yet one of the album's more moving moments, Tender, is not directly about Lee but about a friend who lost a child.

"It's a healing song. Losing Jon helped me realise about healing and how important friends are. It's about anyone who's lost anybody and come through it."

The unexpected revelation about the subject of Tender is as candid as the guarded troubadour gets.

"Look, it's something where people can listen to the words and find out what I was trying to say and also, if you get a different idea from it, that's great too because that's all part of the freedom of music."

Following Lee's death, Nicholas realised he was married to the band. Although he is in a serious relationship, he admits he's difficult to live with because of the time he invests in his craft.

Feeder manager Matt Page told Q last month that Nicholas "finds reason to complain about everything. He's a constant worrier".

"Everyone's different," Nicholas says with a shrug. "I do like to be busy, even though I moan about it a bit. I need to be active and creative. This was a dream, then suddenly it's my career. It's hard, you have to make big sacrifices. It doesn't stop when you go home, there's always something."

Still, three years on, Nicholas feels that much more relaxed and his band are ready to take on the world, with Richardson on board as a full-time member. Curiously, the workman-like Richardson was friends with the flamboyant Lee.

"Look, he must've felt weird," Nicholas says of the transition. "It will take time for us to get to know each other but I think it's the right thing. He's powerful and versatile, which is what you need in a band like Feeder. As long as we can get on well, this should continue for a while." He pauses. "I'm hoping for a long time."

Tellingly, none of the bands Feeder toured the US with in their early days have survived. What gives Nicholas hope is that Feeder's record sales haven't peaked.

Duerden believes they have reached another level. "Feeder have stopped being unremarkable," he says.

"They've developed as a band and musically they are more interesting than ever. They've got depth."

Nicholas says: "We've always felt we could be a big, worldwide band. We may not have always been the next new, big thing but we've always grown our following with each album. I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't think we could go further.

"We've achieved a lot but it feels like a halfway point. It's almost like we have a new lease on life."

Pushing the Senses is out now through Liberation/Warners.


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