Katie Melua: Finding Inspiration from Flannery O’Connor to Cole Porter
Photo by Rosie Matheson
Some artists might be having a tough time finding inspiration for their work these admittedly dark days. Not Soviet Georgian-born, British-based singer/songwriter Katie Melua—she not only stumbles across new sources of influence on an almost daily basis, she has also spent much of her life aggressively seeking them out, regardless of medium, genre or original time period.
On her plush new set alone—matter-of-factly dubbed Album No. 8, underscored by the lilting textures of the Georgian Philharmonic Orchestra—she drew from disparate recording artists like Brad Meldau, Charles Stepney, Terry Callier, Ramsey Lewis, even vintage Cole Porter, plus the choreography of Germany’s Pina Bausch and the writings of folk trailblazer Bob Dylan via his Chronicles Vol. 1 tome, in which she highlighted any musician she hadn’t heard of. Then she meticulously researched every last one to create her own edifying, and ultimately life-changing, playlist.
Meanwhile, her seven-year marriage to James Toseland was ending, so to strengthen her songwriting skills to deal with such private topics more metaphorically, she enrolled in an actual short-fiction-writing course at London’s Faber Academy. Once under the aegis of hitmaking producer Mike Batt after pursuing her craft at the prestigious BRIT School, she was determined to pen every last No. 8 lyric, and so she did. Mission accomplished—apart from the somber piano etude “Heading Home” and a conversely jazzy “Voices in the Night,” which were rooted in a trip back to the Caucasus mountains she undertook with her father—a good deal of the record deals with the breakup, albeit subliminally, in “Joy,” “Airtime,” “Remind Me,” and “Your longing is Gone.”
Having started her career with Call Off the Search in 2003, then in only three years becoming the U.K.’s best-selling female artist, the chanteuse didn’t necessarily need to push herself—she has a huge core audience overseas that hangs on her every word. But she strongly felt this overriding artistic imperative. And if you’re a true art lover, she says, “It’s kind of unavoidable, isn’t it? You just have to do it.”
Paste: Curiosity — it’s probably the most important asset for any artist with longevity, right? And you’re either born with it, or you weren’t.
Katie Melua: Yeah. And I think it’s just always been a part of my life and my nature. And maybe I first noticed it when my family moved to the UK from Georgia when I was eight years old. In the ’90s, when we left, I’d never been taken to a library, because the country was on its knees back then. But when I moved to Belfast, I of course went to the local library, and I was just blown away. I literally would just spend hours in there, browsing books, discovering anything I could get my hands on. And I was even more blown away by the fact that you could take away six books, for free, and I didn’t have to hand over any money. It really just blew my mind. So that’s when I first noticed that my curiosity was completely switched on — the first time I went to a library and understood how books made me feel.
Paste: What have been some touchstone texts for you over the years?
Melua: I have too many to mention, really. But at the moment, I’m completely obsessed with
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, and also T.S Eliot’s Tradition and Individual Talent text. The literary world is just the world that I’m massively inspired by, and it’s been a particularly important part of the making of Album No. 8. I’ve always been fascinated by the mysticism that surrounds songwriting, and particularly lyric writing. So for me, where I’ve been able to find a certain world that inspires my imagination is anything to do with the literary world—delving into poetry books, going to study fiction writing at the Faber Academy.
Paste: Did anyone in class recognize you?
Melua: No. Not at all. Because I think people just know my music, but I wouldn’t say that my face is as well-known. And this was a three-month course in short story writing, and I went there quietly every week. And I found that the most important author I got introduced to there was Flannery O’Connor. Wise Blood is just fabulous, and I just dove into her work. And in going through courses like that, you learn how writers develop their style, which you can then apply to how you’re developing yours. So now, for me, it’s about creating a world with a certain sense of style to it, while making sure that it rings true and also stands up to all the traditions that exist in our industry. And I found that once I read Flannery O’Connor, Quentin Tarantino made sense to me. In Russian cinema and European cinema, that same level of violence and its brutal look just didn’t happen. But then suddenly, you had that in Tarantino’s work, so I felt like he was the godparent of that cinematic development. So if you listen to my song “Airtime,” of course there’s a breakup in there, But I was more interested in how to take certain personal stories and treat them with respect, but also honesty, so the story is just hinted at but never completely black and white. And I also wanted to resist the urge to be judgmental or lash out at anyone or anything that I thought had been done wrong.