CityLife

Interview: T G Elias

TG Elias

Manchester singer-songwriter T G Elias – better known as plain old Tom Elias to his friends and family – has never taken out a £100,000 super-injunction or tried to sue the users of Twitter, but that hasn’t stopped internet speculation about his bedroom activities.

When Elias released his second album The Man In The Iron Cage last year, the album was lauded for its gorgeous, melodic arrangements as it was carefully analysed for its overtly carnal lyrics.

Indeed, one bold commentator even described Elias as sounding like a man who was ‘sex-obsessed’.

Seated in Oldham Street boozer The Castle on a bright summer’s afternoon, the Manchester songwriter – a lanky, 6ft Faris Badwan-alike with fine taste in bespoke suits – offers a bemused smile when reminded of such forensic lyrical analysis. The Manchester folk scene’s own tireless lothario, he pleads, he is most certainly not. 
  
“When you’re writing these songs, you don’t really think how much people will analyse them,” he begins. “But being called sex-obsessed was a surprise!

“I certainly don’t set out to shock with my lyrics. Songwriting is a very personal thing to me, so some strong subjects can creep in there – like sex, religion, politics. I’ve never really gone for those boy-meets-girl sort of platitudes in my lyrics. There are enough singer-songwriters out there doing that sort of thing.”
  
It’s testament to the depth of his songwriting that such feverish analysis is par for the course with T G Elias these days.  

Mind you, there’s plenty of material for those T G Elias fans to feast upon. Staggeringly prolific, the Manchester songwriter has delivered three self-funded albums in two years, and he’s currently in the final stages of mixing a fourth record.

Such prodigious output undoubtedly has much to do with Elias’ late-comer status to the songwriter party. Now aged 27, he only learned to play the guitar six years ago, and judging by his manic release and gigging schedule, he hasn’t put the instrument down since.

Not that Elias’ quality has ever suffered from the relentless quantity; rather, his eagerness is what makes his music so wonderfully arresting and unfettered.

There’s no ignoring the obvious sonic touchstone to his music – Dylan, Young, Waits – but what sets Elias apart from the rest of Manc music’s current folk clan is how he seems to revel in the simplicity of his acoustic guitar/vocals set-up than be hampered by it.

Hence the breezy, beautiful melodies of tracks such as live favourite The Banqueting Cup; and hence the strikingly confessional lyrics of Rancid Misbehaviour, the track largely responsible for that feverish fan analysis.

“I’ve never thought that being a singer-songwriter was holding me back musically,” Elias avers. “Maybe it’s ’cos I’m still relatively new to writing this kind of music.

“With a lot of singer-songwriters, there’s almost this huge burden of what’s been done previously in the genre – like you couldn’t possibly write a song with three chords because it’s been done before.

“I don’t feel that baggage at all; in fact, I only want to write songs with three chords! For me, there’s a lot of freedom in working with just voice and guitar: you can explore light and shade, quiet and loud, different dynamics. There’s a lot to explore even though you have limited tools.”

Although based in West Didsbury, T G Elias’s journey to Manc music folk hero takes on various pit-stops across Britain.

It begins in London (his birthplace) and moves to Plymouth (where he was brought up until he was 16), then onto Liverpool (where he moved to study), and finally Manchester, when he moved here six years ago.

The most bizarre thing is how music didn’t really figure in his life until more recent years.

Raised by his grandparents after his mum and dad divorced when he was six, Elias describes his childhood self as, “incredibly reclusive. I hated the idea of going out and socialising. Music just seemed to pass me by”.

A few years spent living and studying in Liverpool finally ignited his love affair with rock and roll (“I was really into bands like The Stooges and Led Zeppelin”), but it wasn’t until his 21st birthday that he received his first guitar and started writing songs.
 
“I started writing straight away,” he recalls. “Maybe it’s ’cos I was older but I didn’t do the obvious thing of buying a songbook and learning Beatles songs. I was writing my own stuff from the off.”

Relocating to Manchester six years ago, Elias’s progress on the  folk scene has been strangely dictated by one major factor: his hair. Back in his early days as a performer on Manchester’s open mic circuit, he claims his lengthy coif was the main thing holding back his progress.

“It sounds bizarre, but it’s true – my hair was the reason I wasn’t very good,” he exclaims. “My hair was down to my waist... I looked like Cousin Itt from The Addams Family! And because I was so nervous about playing live, I used to hide beneath my hair and slouch. I must have looked really indulgent.

“People did comment on how miserable and uncomfortable I was to watch. And honestly, I’ve been a much better performer since I had a haircut.”

Improved coiffure aside, though, there’s something
refreshingly elemental about T G Elias’s take on countrified folk acoustica. In an age when newer folkies such as Mumford & Sons are regenerating the genre with evermore magpie-ish, decorous methods, T G Elias clearly revels in the direct approach. 

Listen to his two records to date – The Man In The Iron Cage and God’s Own Land; a third, Beast Lamentations, is on its way later this summer – and what strikes you is the sheer melodic and lyrical concision.

His songs might tap into the Will Oldham school of cathartic torment, but there’s never any danger of Elias trying to suffocate you with the sheer weightiness of his music and lyrical themes.

Like any true folkie, he appreciates the importance of
direct, accessible storytelling.

“I probably shouldn’t say this,” Elias begins, “But I don’t even like that much folk music. Because of all these nu-folk bands, the term ‘folk’ has become such a dirty word. If you have a beard and wear a waistcoat then you’re considered folk music these days. That’s nonsense.

“For me, a hip-hop track is probably closer to the idea of modern folk music, because hip-hop music sticks to a personal storytelling tradition. I’m not the best rapper though, so I’ll just stick to my acoustic guitar.”

T G Elias plays Chorlton Irish Club tonight and Deaf Institute tomorrow. For info visit myspace.com/ tgelias.