LA Woman: Beth Jeans Houghton

Still in her teens and the keeper of an intimidating amount of talent, her debut album was coming along nicely and the music world seemingly lay prostrate at her feet. Last year, however, the trail leading to Beth seemed to run cold. As the weeks turned into months, no news about the album turned into no sign of Beth

I first experienced the wonder of Beth back in September 2008. Playing a support slot for Bon Iver at Manchester’s terrible Academy 2, she was captivating. A mere slip of an 18-year-old, she regaled an initially indifferent crowd with neat anecdotes, a birthday shout-out to her brother (the artist Ben Jeans Houghton) and a short set of her twisted, psychedelic folk music – just Beth and her guitar. At that point, she had released a gorgeous debut single ‘Golden’ with the help of folkie producer Adem.

A few months later, after the release of her Hot Toast Volume 1 EP, I interviewed Beth. She was a joy – and charmed me with stories about being related to Billy the Kid, how her songs each come with a clothes outfit that she designs as she composes and why the best way to describe her sound is – and I quote – “marching to war music.”

I then saw Beth play shows in a church in Manchester’s arty suburb of Chorlton and again upstairs in a student eatery. By then, she wore big wigs and had been joined by her fabulous Hooves Of Destiny backing band. At the latter gig, she played a song called ‘Dodecahedron’ which she’d told us she had only just written so “could go horribly wrong.” It didn’t. ‘Dodecahedron’ was beautiful, featuring a melody to die a million deaths for. This bode well for her debut album, which was being recorded with big-shot producer Ben Hillier.

And then it all went quiet – really quiet. Beth seemed to lapse into radio silence. When I asked her publicists about where the album was up to, they shrugged their collective shoulders – “Even we’ve not heard from her.” Apart from the odd sweet but uninformative tweet, it had seemed that Beth’s career had taken an unexpected break.

So, it was a spectacularly pleasant surprise when, a couple of months ago, an email plopped into my Inbox from Beth’s PR person. Not only was Beth ‘back’, but she had signed to the mighty Mute label and, – and this was the tantalizingly intriguing bit – she had been living in Los Angeles. The press release also spoke about a free download track. It was called ‘Dodecahedron’. I’ve rarely been as excited, relieved and curious about the scribblings of a publicist. I desperately wanted to interview Beth again and a few weeks later I would get my chance.

When I called Beth she was still on a bus in her native Newcastle. She had been clothes shopping with the band Warpaint (who were on Tyneside that day for a headline gig) and was running slightly late. She claimed to remember our previous chat, and when I asked her the inevitable ‘Where’ve you been?’ question she was already into her stride. “It’s not really that I’ve been away,” she tells me while trying to find her front door keys. “There have been delays with the record due to illnesses. I didn’t play that many shows over the winter ; I was spending quite a lot of time in LA. I’d written the next album already, I’d been practicing and trying out new stuff for the live show, so it doesn’t seem to me that we’ve been away that long. I can understand that it is almost like a comeback, but I don’t feel like I’ve been away.”

As the news that Beth has written her second album before I even ask about her debut effort swirls around my head, I’m still baffled by the concept of LA. Showing a gaping lack of understanding of Beth’s psyche, I tell her that if I had to guess a city that she may end up in, I would have plumped for Paris or New York, Berlin or Barcelona – somewhere with a bohemian chic and not a city of endless freeways and Muscle Beach. I’m struggling to fathom Beth’s particular attraction to Los Angeles. “It’s been top of my list for about 20 years, I’d say,” she says. “Well, maybe not since I was one, but since I was about seven or eight, LA has been the place for me. It’s like I’m finally doing what I always planned to do.”

“It started when I met up with Devendra Banhart after a show he was doing. He said that if I was ever coming to LA, I could stay in his apartment. I’ve always felt like a traveller, and I am at my happiest when I’m travelling or moving. What I got from Los Angeles was that wasn’t true, it was just that I hadn’t found California yet.”

Apart from the weather – it is raining on Tyneside as we talk – why is LA such a magical place? “Well, the weather is fantastic. I dunno – I don’t like grey cities where it rains. I feel really suppressed here. There you can drive for two hours and you are in the desert or the mountains and you are a short drive from the beach. But, really it’s the people, even on the music business side of it, they are really supportive. In England, if you get any kind of success, they get really bitchy. No-one wants you to do well. There is a lot of in-fighting within the local music scene.”

It is the first point in which I hear a note of sourness in Beth’s voice. She is not the carefree whirlwind of possibility she seemed to be when we last spoke. She tells me that she didn’t go to LA to further her career (“I don’t yet have a career to further”) and will be looking to move over to California semi-permanently in November. “I’m working on getting a work permit as we speak. The band will come over with me, so that’ll be cool. The move is actually nothing to do with my music at all. I’m doing it because I feel I’d be a lot happier existing there.”

We then move onto to talk about the ‘Dodecahedron’ download. Beth tells me that she the song is not a single and that she hates downloads, admitting that if it were up to her all releases would be “only on vinyl”. I tell her that I love ‘Dodecahedron’ and she thanks me but dismisses the song as not being one of her debut album’s strongest. I’m a little crushed. “The first single will be ‘Sweet Tooth Bird’ and that was the first song I wanted people to hear . The label was concerned I’d been away awhile and wanted to generate interest by giving a song away free.”

Then, as Beth is in the middle of a noble rant about the destruction of music by digital media, she stops mid-sentence and asks, “If there is a bottle of wine next to me, and it was opened yesterday and it doesn’t have a lid, will it have gone off?” I think it will be fine, and assume she’s now helping herself to a glass of vino-cum-vinegar. Back to the rant: “I was talking today with the girls from Warpaint about reading books on their iPhones. It is okay to do that, as long as you still have real books. It is so sad; we are in that horrible future where nothing exists, apart from on a screen.”

The shopping trip with Warpaint must have been an eye-opener for the Californian quartet. Beth Jeans Houghton is not just about the music. She designs her own record sleeves and also makes many of her own clothes. Her stage costumes are wondrous and on many occasions incorporate huge wigs. Personally, the last time I saw her play live, the ridiculousness of the teetering beehive hairpiece was an annoying distraction, but because I am a coward I don’t tell her that – she brings it up herself. “I’ve completely changed my mind on that front. What I wear on stage is very often what I would wear in my normal life. That’s what I do. I like dressing up. But, I got really irritated by reviews last year that were saying stuff about what I was wearing, whether it was good or bad. Music journalists were writing more about the fashion side than the music. That just really fucks me off. So, I think that it is the only thing I will compromise, is tone down what I wear so that, hopefully, people listen to the music. That’s the only reason I am a musician.”

The other nugget of excitement embedded in the press release was Beth signing to Mute – the label that brought us Depeche Mode, Goldfrapp and Nick Cave. Beth’s previous singles had been released by ecstatic folk-lovers Static Caravan, and Mute represents a major player. “I had quite a few labels interested from the age of 18 onwards and then they started to fizzle out and the record was taking a long time,” Beth says when I ask her why she chose them. “I didn’t sign a deal until January of this year, and the record was already done because I didn’t want any input from a label. Usually labels want to have their say on exactly what it is, and I’m really not into that. You can call me a control freak, but I don’t care – it is my music – and I can do what I want. I really like Mute and they were the only label that stuck by and said they wanted to put it out, for three years. The rest of them got bored and signed other artists.”

It seems that retaining control over her artistic vision is critical for Beth. She states that she would never be overtly commercial (“It might make me richer, but I’ve never really had much money”) and that signing a record deal after she had finished her album was also very important. “On this record, it was really important for me to do exactly what I wanted to do, as this was the standard I was setting. If I compromise and give in now, it will be a lot harder to do what I want later. I think I’ll always be stubborn. I think I have comes to terms with that fact.”

Ah, yes, the record. Beth’s debut album doesn’t have a name yet – although in truth I never asked her what it would be called. It is set for release later in the year (or early in 2012) and would seem to contain songs written quite some time ago. Beth’s music is now almost out of sync with her writing; “The album is so old,” she says in agreement “I usually get bored of a song after about two weeks. So, I’m actually quite glad that I don’t hate these songs yet. I really like the record. For me, because I don’t listen to my own music, when I listen to it now it is like listening to a new record.”

I’m interested as to whether she has written any songs in LA, and how they compare to her older songs. Beth again gives me a glimpse of where her head is at. “It was different because of the environment, but it would be different anyway because my musical tastes have changed and what I want to say has changed. I’m a lot angrier than I was when I was 17 or 18 on the record. So, a lot of my more new songs are more vicious.”

Angry? I’m momentarily shocked at this ‘confession’. This is not the Beth Jeans Houghton I remember. I ask her what makes her angry, but am not sure I want to hear the reply. “I just got fucking sick of everyone being dishonest. You know when people are being polite and they are like ‘oh yeah, I understand’ but they don’t mean it. I know it seems brutal when someone is deadly honest with you, but at least whatever they might say, you can take it as the truth. I wish that was the case with everyone.”

We then talk and talk and talk; the interview has run way over schedule, but Beth seems in a mood to offload. She tells me how she isn’t anything like the oft-compared Florence Welsh or Laura Marling (she isn’t) and how, as a child, she was inspired by Patti Smith. She is unreserved in her views on Tyler, the Creator – “I am completely in love with him. He has that attitude where he is doing it his way. That’s what I am really into.”

Beth talks passionately about sexism in the music business and how hurt she has been by those she once trusted. She’s so open that I’m worried my advice about the wine might have been wrong and I’m saddened by how this amazingly talented young woman could be so bruised. Much of the transcript is deleted for posterity.

For some reason, we end up talking about our biggest fears. “I’m freaked out about death,” Beth tells me. “Not the pain or anything, but the thought of not finishing projects or getting out all my ideas or missing stuff. I mean I am terrified of flying, but the fear of dying before I get to all the places I want to go to freaks me out more. The fear of not doing stuff is scarier.”