Morcheeba

However you feel about Morcheeba, it’s probably wrong. Upon reading the name you’re already placing yourself in a cerebral, golden-hued utopia where long, hot baths are mandatory and lazy, sun-basking afternoons happen EVERY day, not just on Sundays.

And why should you think differently, really? After all, Morcheeba’s downtempo blend of soul-pop and R&B has a strong association with Mother Nature’s lulling influences: songs like ‘The Sea’ and ‘Trigger Hippie’; albums such as Big Calm and The Antidote; and, for their latest trick - Dive Deep - an 11-track body of work that is flooded with oceanic indulgence (‘Enjoy The Ride’, ‘Washed Away’, ‘Riverbed’). The band were even fronted by a vocalist called Skye once upon a time, so the hypnotic nature of nature itself provocates this soothing guise. And yet the daydream is more sour than the immediacy alludes because the foundation that lies beneath is one of meloncholic instability.

Paul Godfrey is one half of Morcheeba’s driving force. He also a very serious man. He is not the sort to laugh heartily. For many artists of his ilk it is commonplace to utterly immerse themselves in the process of producing music. But for Paul, working on Dive Deep meant more than just working a few extra hours on the weekend.

“It was therapy really,” he told base recently, during a conversation that ironically interrupted his “cathartic” duty of throwing away unwanted CDs, as though he were “shedding skin”. “It was kind of confronting my demons in a really strong way,” was his confession regarding the album, adding, “more than I have done before, and then trying to be brave and just go with the flow, be accepting.”

Following their fifth album, The Antidote, the relationship with his brother and co-band member, Ross, “was on the rocks” and when Ross moved to LA, Morcheeba was at a near-terminal juncture. This work pressure, exacerbated by the death of their father, crippled Paul psychologically and was followed by long periods in bed.

Eventually deciding his condition was partly treatable through the propitious elements of music, Paul began work on Morcheeba: Mark II. His brother relinquished all command of the production so that Paul could draw the most from it. And for his troubles, Paul endured two long years of bad dieting, 16-hour days and rest periods spent sleeping on the studio floor. “I was really pushing myself because I wasn’t rebelling against other people so much. I was rebelling against myself”. Yet, despite this abnormal human behaviour, Paul’s declaration is open. He “wasn’t relying on alcohol or drugs for Dutch courage” throughout the album’s palliative course. His straightness was his strength.

Neither did he allow outside influences to permeate his focused psyche, almost making an island of himself. “I didn’t want to be influenced by outside music. It was more important to make a record that I was really feeling”. Music, TV, radio and printed publications were thus banned.

The finalised project is imminent and thankfully, for Paul, it helps him feel “like a proud father”. The exploratory development of Dive Deep has opened up exciting new options for Morcheeba, which promises to leave its listeners amazed. “It’s come off really well,” Paul is adamant, “artistically, it’s our best record for a really long time, if not ever.”

When Skye left Morcheeba in 2003, an attempt was made to reinstate a permanent singer for fifth album, but that relationship ended soon after as well. Paul is frank about the reasons behind these decisions - “It was never fair on our singers to be thrust out there, to carry so much of the front person thing” – and similarly indicates how it ostensibly influenced the shape of Dive Deep - “It wasn’t fair on the music either to have that kind of distraction.”

This detachment reaction became a venture into the now-popular use of external talent as the music’s partisan voice. Materialising through collusions with a series of “happy accident” randoms, Paul opted to utilise resources like iTunes and MySpace for the sheer exposure to quality - “It wasn’t a question of throwing money at them because we didn’t really have any”. The “really good marriage of collaborations”, as Paul calls it, was, by his own admission, “all very natural as well.”

The guests that finally aided Paul with his sample-slicing, emotive endeavour were varied. They included established singer-songwriters like Judie Tzuke; spirited French vocalist, Manda; earnest Cool Calm Pete, the rapper; and, the Mak of All Trades, the fluteboxing (!?) Scouser.

The writing was often shared with these artists, Paul working “more as an editor/producer” at times. “It brought the best out of every situation and channelled it into the mood I’d had for the record,” admits Paul, “it was kind of like it was meant to be”. Every answer possessing a hidden meaning. Every word well considered. And equally, he is ambitious about the way the album will connect with its listeners. “I hope with the music I can maybe hand down some of this experience and these feelings to people who don’t have a lot of spare time”. So, perhaps we should all reconsider when next hearing the name Morcheeba. Especially, for those who are suffering. “Hopefully people will respond to it and it will make them feel better.”