Ray LaMontagne: Looking for trouble

The singer-songwriter Ray LaMontagne is an enigma. His first album, Trouble (2004), sold more than 700,000 copies. His second, Till the Sun Turns Black (2006), had critics reaching for the superlatives. Earlier this year he was nominated for international breakthrough act of the year at the Brits. His new single "Jolene", released last week, went straight into the UK airplay charts at no 7, his highest entry ever. An extra London concert at the Royal Albert Hall has just been added to his UK tour.

Audiences adore the raw honesty of his lyrics and a voice that hovers between fury and tenderness. And yet we know next to nothing about him. Rumour has it he has a wife and two young sons. But LaMontagne isn't telling.

It's fantastically refreshing that he won't play the publicity game - unless, of course, you're interviewing him.When we meet for coffee, LaMontagne looks at me blankly but not unkindly. Does he really loathe interviews? "It can be kind of tedious," he says softly. He admits he'd far rather "skip the social situation" and spend the afternoon reading. His tastes are rather more eclectic than those of most pop stars: John Cheever, Saul Bellow, John Updike and George Orwell. "After a show, a lot of the times I just need to be by myself for a bit until I can balance back out."

His songs come from a place of pain. Born in New Hampshire, LaMontagne was raised by a single mother. She left his abusive musician father while he was on tour, and moved her children north. They lived hand to mouth, taking shelter in friends' cars and tents. It was difficult for LaMontagne to make friends with other children. As a teenager he moved to Lewiston, Maine, where he found a job at a shoe factory. He barely saw daylight for months. Then one morning at 4am his clock radio woke him with the Stephen Stills song "Treetop Flyer". He decided to quit his job to pursue a music career.

He began touring, maintained by a side job as a carpenter. By 1999, he was writing and recording his own music, and sending out demo tapes. In 2003, he landed a small record deal. Trouble was recorded in two weeks. Mixing 1970s folk-country with vintage soul, it was expected to be an obscure cult album. But it became a word-of-mouth hit, and was picked up by 14th Floor Records, the British label behind David Gray and Damien Rice. His follow-up, Till the Sun Turns Black, is darker and more richly textured. By his own admission he was battling depression when he was writing it. But there are also moments of dizzying joy. "It's definitely not Trouble, Part 2," he says. "I just wanted to write something that felt more complete, a little less scattered."

LaMontagne resists talking about his "weird" and "challenging" childhood. But he doesn't judge his mother, who was doing the best she could. He hates the label of being a tortured artist. "People just like drama," he sighs. "There's truth to it to some extent. That's why I write songs. When I'm down, when I can't seem to see any good in anything, that seems to be when the songs come. When I'm feeling good I'm generally doing something else, working with wood or on a motorcycle somewhere or hiking. I like not to be in my head so much.

"I'm not a politically minded person but I'm so endlessly frustrated with politicians and their manipulation of language and their manipulation of the working class - to keep them numb, to keep them away from the truth that they could be doing better. Most working people should be making better wages, they should be more comfortable."

I ask him about his protest song "How Come?", which alludes to the Iraq war: "How come I can't tell the free world from living hell?" is one of the lines. "Human beings show so much potential, and we have such a huge capacity for love, when you have children you really realise that. It's sad to me that you would choose violence over love. I don't get it."

When you see LaMontagne play live you're struck by the fanatical devotion of his fans. Acutely shy, he has been known to perform in the dark. Sometimes he scolds them like children. But this only makes them keener. "C'mon, Ray," they tease, "we love you." They keep an eye on him if he gets too tortured, then burst into thunderous, ironic applause when he deigns to play a mega-hit like "Trouble".

There was a period in his life when he went off the rails - drinking and taking drugs. He was saved by the love of a good woman (documented in Trouble). The new album alludes to the difficulty of keeping a marriage together. Not that he's about to tell more.

He has a horror of the confessional, YouTube culture. "I feel sorry for kids these days - the pressure they're under, the bullshit they have to receive. It's hard enough, that place between being a child and an adult. They're under this barrage of advertising and media. I wouldn't be 15 in 2007." And the new porno chic makes him sick. "The amount of sex and violence you see before you're 12 is really troubling."

There's a purity to LaMontagne. "I don't consider myself to be a writer of any importance, believe me," he says. And there's a funny moment when I tell him Daniel Craig is a fan, and that the new James Bond himself sneaked into one of his concerts. He's never heard of him: "I'm not up to date with what's happening in the entertainment world."

Ray LaMontagne is a very reluctant celebrity. He just happens to make wonderfully commercial, highly accessible music. "I'd just rather be invisible, an observer on the outside of things," he protests. The paradox is, of course, that he's chosen a career where that's impossible.

For UK tour dates, go to www.raylamontagne.com

Biography: From poverty to world-wide acclaim

Born: Raycharles LaMontagne, in Nashua, New Hampshire, 1974, one of six siblings born to different fathers. Spent most of his childhood travelling around as his mother tried to find work and put a roof over their heads. A self-confessed outsider, he barely graduated from school. Three years later he moved to Lewiston, Maine, where he got a job in a shoe factory. One morning at 4am after hearing a Stephen Stills song, he decided to quit his job and pursue a career in music.

1999: Began touring while working as a carpenter. Recorded 10 songs for a demo that he sent to various local music venues. Got a recording contract with a small independent label.

2004: Records Trouble in two weeks with producer Ethan Johns, who had worked with Ryan Adams and Rufus Wainwright. It sells more than 500,000 copies worldwide and later reaches no 5 in the UK album chart.

2006: Releases the follow-up album Till the Sun Turns Black.

2007: Nominated as the best international breakthrough act in the 2007 Brit Awards, but lost to Orson. Now lives in rural Maine in a house he built himself. Rumoured to be married with two sons.