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Teddy Thompson: cool as folk

The son of folk legends Richard and Linda, is making the family name well and truly his own. He talks to Elisa Bray

Sad eyes: Teddy Thompson's music is intrinsically melancholic

Sad eyes: Teddy Thompson's music is intrinsically melancholic

It must be frustrating to be known for your musical pedigree and cohort of famous musician friends, while your own musical output struggles to get the recognition it deserves. Not that Teddy Thompson, son of folk luminaries Linda and Richard, is a stranger to critical acclaim. Not only are critics spilling praise over his fourth album A Piece of What You Need – the album went where none of his previous offerings had gone – to the Top 10 in the album chart.

We meet in the wake of his achieving his biggest commercial success in eight years of recording. You might expect a celebratory mood, but porcelain-featured Thompson, who left England for an extended holiday in America at the age of 18 and stayed, and who is not known for embracing the bright side of life, is drinking tea and reflecting.

"It's surprising. I never got anywhere near the charts and I don't think anybody really expected me to," he says. "I didn't have any great expectations and they certainly weren't expecting it to do so well, so it's really good. It encourages them to keep them going." "They" being his record label. Many musicians fail to make it beyond their first release with a major label, and Thompson did not expect to get as far as putting out three records in as many years. "Part of the reason why this record came out so quickly was I wasn't sure how long I'd have. This was the last roll of the dice with this record label." Even now, with chart success under his belt he is cautious.

"At the moment, it feels one minute I'm playing in the middle of nowhere opening for someone else in front of 200 people and making no money and the next minute I'm in the charts in England. I've been touring relentlessly for two years round America. Still, the nuts and bolts of the music business are very difficult, especially at the moment. There's no money in it. People still think that as soon as you get in the charts the money will go into your bank account, but it takes a really long time to start making money. I would say being a jobbing musician these days is quite hard. You get to sleep with some groupies, but that's about it," he says, sharply adding with a smile: "He joked."

He is, he claims, really happy with it – "the happiest I've ever been with an album". It is certainly a more positive response than a recent interview in which a morose Thompson sounded like he was ready to pack the music in.

"I got in trouble for that," he admits. "That was a bad day. I don't always feel that way. But I'm not Liza Minnelli, I'm not going to put on this showbiz act. It's not what I do and it's not musically the dance-and-be-happy stuff anyway. I don't think I should have to play happy if I'm feeling bad one day. People aren't daft enough to take that."

Those familiar with Thompson's music wouldn't be. Melancholy has always been intrinsic to his confessional blend of folk, rock, country and pop. A Piece of What You Need is his most uplifting, uptempo album yet – albeit with typically down lyrics. He may be happiest with this album, but has he reached a happier place in his life, too?

"Ooh no," he says. "Musically, I'm happy." At least he's smiling. Thompson is currently suffering the predicament of trying to fit a relationship around his constant travelling and has just left his New York home for four months. "It's a long time to be away from somebody. It feels like the whole thing is one big ugly repeating pattern," he sighs, before pulling himself up. "But you have to make your own pattern, you have to fight against repeating the same problem, otherwise you're a slave to your job."

On the up side, distant longing and heartbreak is good fodder for songwriting. "As a songwriter, you're exploiting yourself. Essentially that's what we do – mining our personal lives for artistic gain, which can be a tricky line to tread.

"I've always enjoyed misery. I quite like to wallow in it. I don't write too many happy songs, but then who does? Writing sad songs is much easier and the best songs are powerful emotionally. I do like sad songs with happy tunes. Country music is based on that and I'm a huge country fan. I've always had that in mind."

Lines like "turning into something I despise" on his opening song "The Things I Do" are more confessional than most. At 31, Thompson feels he has hit a big moment which is forcing him to delve even further within himself.

"You know, it's the usual self loathing," he says casually. "I think when we're younger we develop little habits, bad ones. At a certain point you start to notice that those habits are part of who you are. The way you act, the way you deal with situations and the way you process your feelings. You turn round one day and say I'm not going to change, that's who I am – and it's a scary moment if you don't like certain things about yourself. That's not who you want to be."

He puts the album's success down to his producer Marius de Vries, who gave him more input than he'd ever had on a recording, but he should give himself more credit. After all, contrary to popular supposition, his parents were not the driving force in his becoming a musician. "People ask me that every day. They didn't sit around the house playing music. I don't really remember much of that at all." Since his parents divorced when he was seven, he was raised by his mother – who married someone in a different business. Thompson frequently visits his parents in London and has a particularly close relationship with his mother, with whom he wrote some songs for her last two albums.

Aside from his parents, his musical heroes are "all the really obvious ones, the towering greats" – Ray Charles, Nina Simone and Dolly Parton. "I'm always amazed when I read interviews with people and they say, 'an Oasis song changed my life'. How can an Oasis song mean the same as a Beatles song? Or Leonard Cohen?"

Cohen is the one musical hero he has met, through his friend Lorca, Cohen's daughter, and the singer more than lived up to his expectations as a "very quiet generous person, exceptional – just from the minutes I met him. We went upstairs to his place for tea and had a deli platter of cold cuts and talked," he recalls.

Finally, Thompson offers some self praise, which perhaps takes its cue from the title of his album. He bemoans how things that used to have solid foundations – from buildings to consumer goods are disposable – our cheap clothes and furniture, and our attitude to music, too. "Pick up an antique and the workmanship was good. Now, think that somebody in 50 years will pick up an Ikea cabinet... Things today are flimsy when they used to be stronger and last longer. People came out more solid because they had better pieces of their lives. I'm suggesting my album is a more sturdy piece of the musical puzzle." Who could disagree?

'A Piece of What You Need' is out now on Universal (www.teddythompson.com )

Mum, Dad and the 'kick in the shins' tour

It was a perfect musical partnership. Richard and Linda became full-time musicians as teenagers – Linda grew up in Glasgow and started singing in folk clubs in the mid-Sixties where she collaborated with Sandy Denny and Manfred Mann, while London-born Richard founded the folk-rock group Fairport Convention at 18, performing and recording with them from 1967. The pair met in 1969 and soon married. Richard's songwriting and guitar playing (he was named by 'Rolling Stone' as one of the top 20 best guitarists of all time) and Linda's vocals were a winning match. Linda was invited to provide backing vocals for Richard's 1972 debut solo album 'Henry The Human Fly' and by 1973 they had recorded their first, acclaimed album, 'I Want To See the Bright Lights'.

Five albums and several tours later, it was their sixth album's final tour that went down in history. Now signed to Fairport Convention manager and producer Joe Boyd's Hannibal label, they recorded their final album 'Shoot Out The Lights', and because Linda was pregnant with their third child they had to postpone the release so they could tour to support the album. But by the time the tour came around in 1982, Richard had told Linda he was leaving her for another woman. When they did their final tour together, performing the songs on heartbreak, the lyrics took on a cruel reality. Tensions were high and in one memorable performance Linda is said to have kicked Richard in the shins. It is ironic that just as their marriage was failing, their final album was their biggest and relaunched their careers.

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