Daniel Lanois: Lost in music

Daniel Lanois has sat in the producer's chair for U2, Bob Dylan and Peter Gabriel, as well as making his own music. James McNair visits him in his Hollywood home to hear about a life spent in sound

There are two reasons why the mild anxieties that precede a celebrity interview dissipate around Daniel Lanois. First, he's not really a celebrity. Second, you know that, should your recording device malfunction, he'll be able to supply a replacement. Lanois is best known for overseeing such celebrated albums as Bob Dylan's Oh Mercy, Peter Gabriel's So and – with Brian Eno – U2's The Joshua Tree. Rolling Stone called him "the most important record producer to emerge in the Eighties".

When I arrive at his Hollywood home, Lanois is feeding his Sun Conure parrot, Giorgio. Left alone for a moment, I notice a tiny silver Buddha on top of huge speaker cabinet. Elsewhere, the room is dotted with musical instruments and tasteful objets d'art. Giorgio sated, my calm, softly-spoken host wires the room for sound, and I realise that Lanois will be recording me recording him. Before we begin, he disappears elsewhere, and I hear him politely ask some people to lower their voices. "I can't block out sonics," he tells me. "It's one of the repercussions of the job."

We're here to talk about Lanois's new album, Shine. And, although the invitations keep coming, he says the release of his third solo record will mark a one year break from producing other artists. Shine is also the French-Canadian's first release for Anti, a kudos-rich label whose roster includes Tricky and Tom Waits. Lanois was delighted to sign to the label but remains realistic regarding sales. "If I can elevate an audience's spirits, that's enough for me," he says. "I know how difficult it is to tap into the hit-making machinery when you're not exposing the midriff."

Shine may not expose the midriff but it certainly lays bare Lanois's heart. Richly textured and questing of lyric, it is much in the vein of 1989's Arcadie and 1993's For the Love of Wynona, albums which showcased Lanois's woozy, almost somnolent-sounding production aesthetic. Shine was recorded in diverse locations such as Mexico and Dublin, and eventually saw its composer relocate from New Orleans to Los Angeles. Lanois confides that he loved and lost several times during the making of the record, but this, like the "trouble" he run into while "hanging out with the wrong people" in New Orleans is not something he wants to dissect in interviews.

When I ask him about the beautiful, lovelorn instrumental "JJ Leaves LA", he simply says that it was recorded "at a very lonely and isolated moment", then gets behind his old pedal steel guitar to play it for me. The inference is that the music says it all, and the simple act of playing helps him escape further probing. His rendition of the piece is so felt and unexpected, however, that one feels led to accept the boundaries he's drawing. The tune over, he talks about his love for the steel guitar, and the simple tactile pleasure it brings him: "For me, it's like an old pocket knife I've carried for a lifetime. You treat it with respect and it serves you well when you need it. It's an old friend to rely on."

Elsewhere on Shine, Lanois showcases his fine, Art-Garfunkel-like falsetto on "As Tears Go By", while Emmylou Harris sings backing vocals on "I Love You". He also duets with Bono on "Falling At Your Feet", a song they composed and recorded together during sessions for U2's All That You Can't Leave Behind.

Given that, at that time, Bono was also busy with the Jubilee 2000 campaign and under pressure from his bandmates to spend more time on the U2 record, it's a little surprising that he and Lanois managed a side-project. Were the rest of U2 miffed? "No, not at all", he laughs, "because we did it so quickly. There might have been a jealous moment where people wondered why Bono couldn't give those lyrics to the U2 record, but nothing more than that."

Lanois was one of four children his hairdresser mother brought up on her own in Hull, Quebec. He tells me that the "comforts of cash" came late to him. He didn't start producing "the big records" until his late thirties, and he says that, had he made a bundle of money when he was 18, he'd "probably be doing heroin in some little villa". What lyrics like "sometimes I want to take a pill and hide" (from "Sometimes") underline, however, is that wealth hasn't salved what one suspects is a natural propensity for angst. "Just because the acquisitions keep coming in," he says, "it doesn't mean you'll live longer or see things more clearly."

Lanois also talks passionately about what he sees as the misuses of music, and how he finds the histrionic sounds that have accompanied the CNN channel's reports on the war in Iraq particularly crass. "As a man who has dedicated his life to making music", he says, "I take personal offence at that stuff. Keep music out of this. And keep your simpleton slogans and garish graphics out of it, too."

Returning to the new album, I make the point that while most rock musicians file their strongest material in their twenties and thirties, Lanois and his fellow fifty-something Tom Waits are still doing excellent work. "When artists stop doing good stuff," Lanois comments, "it's often due to a decline in their dedication. What tends to come with success is a lot of invitations: awards shows and parties where you can hang out with your heroes. That's all really great, but it may begin to water down your creativity.

"I stick my toe in the limelight now and then, but people aren't tripping over themselves to put me on magazine covers. That means I'm still hungry, and hunger is good for creativity. Anyway," he adds, "I'd rather hang out with a motley crew than the elite."

For a moment I misunderstand him. That's lower case for "motley crew", right?

"Right!"

I close by asking him about Bob Dylan. Given that Dylan's Lanois-produced albums Oh Mercy and Time out of Mind were hailed as comeback classics, it seems churlish not to. But it appears that not even Dylan's producer got beyond the enigma.

"Bob is a very mysterious guy indeed," says Lanois. "I think he probably leaves certain aspects of emotion out of his working life in order to be focused, but just to sit next to him for a couple of months is still pretty wonderful. For me, the greatest compliment would be if Bob thought my dedication to the sonics equalled his dedication to the written word. There is only a handful of people like him on the planet."

'Shine' is out on Mon on Anti