When I first danced Giselle, I found Lars von Trier's film Dancer in the Dark incredibly inspiring. When I'm preparing for a particular character, I look for ideas about her wherever I can. I never feel jealous of another good dancer: I always feel there is so much to learn from them.Īn idea never comes to me suddenly it sits inside me for a while, and then emerges. I seek inspiration in film, theatre, music, art – and in watching other ballet companies, other dancers, and other types of dance. Photograph: Tristram Kenton for the Guardian Tamara Rojo, ballet dancerīallet dancer Tamara Rojo. Again, it's about occupying one part of your brain, so that the other part is clear to be creative. Go for a walk Every morning I go to Hampstead Heath, and I often also go for a wander in the middle of the day to think through a character or situation. I'll look back at my doodles later, and random snatches of dialogue will occur to me. With Tusk Tusk, it was elephants, clowns and dresses on hangers. During rehearsals, I find myself drawing little pictures or symbols that are somehow connected to the play. One lyric, about being an animal stuck in car, even made it into the play's plotline.ĭoodle I'm very fidgety, and I seem to work best when my hands are occupied with something other than what I'm thinking about. For Tusk Tusk, I played Radiohead's album In Rainbows over and over. When I was writing That Face, I listened to Love Her Madly by the Doors, which seemed to say a lot about the characters' relationship with their mother.
I'm a very aural person as soon as I hear a lyric or phrase, I'm transported to a particular time or place. Listen to music I always have music on while I'm writing. Playwright Polly Stenham at the Royal court theatre. "The song is all," he said, "Don't worry about what the rest of the music sounds like: you have a responsibility to the song." I found that really inspiring: it reminded me not to worry about whether a song sounds cool, or fits with everything we've done before – but just to let the song be what it is. The best advice I've ever had came about 20 years ago from Mano McLaughlin, one of Britain's best songwriters. I learned that the hard way: when I was younger, I played the part of the erratic, irascible drunk in order to have something to write about. If it's all getting too intense, remember it's only a song. I thought, how can I combine these two ideas? So I came up with an idea about a love affair that had ended in a field, with birds as the only witnesses. I was looking out at the birds outside, starting to think of lyrics about them and then I thought about the last time I'd been there, 10 years before, at the end of a great love affair. When I started writing lyrics for The Birds, I was sitting in a cottage in the grounds of Peter Gabriel's Real World studios. The best songs often take two disparate ideas and make them fit together.
The first draft is never your last draft. With The Birds, for instance – the first song on our last album – the band already had this great groove going, and I knew I wanted the vocals to reflect the bass-line, so that was immediately something to work with. Mine are often set for me by the music the band has come up with. I still do that now I'm often scribbling down fragments that later act like trigger-points for lyrics.Ī blank canvas can be very intimidating, so set yourself limitations. When I was a boy, I had to go to church every Sunday the priest had an incomprehensible Irish accent, so I'd tune out for the whole hour, just spending time in my own thoughts. Spending time in your own head is important.
They're my peers, my family when they come up with something impressive, it inspires me to come up with something equally impressive. For fear of making us sound like the Waltons, my band are a huge source of inspiration for me.