09 February 2008

Gilles Peterson

“I’m going skiing in a couple of weeks” he says, cheerfully. “I’m quite excited about it. I’ve been doing some work for this company called Milk & Honey. They’ve got a few bars around the place and have one in Chamonix, France”.

I am locked into a candid chat with Gilles Peterson - global DJ, Arsenal supporter, Radio 1 presenter and close friend to Carl Cox – and the conversation is leaning towards the subject of snow. Peterson recently provided an article for Shortlist magazine in which he brooded over his top ten spots for winter activities. Curiously enough, Chamonix came first. And tenth!

“The one thing I always find weird when I go skiing is that that’s the one place I find really hard to combine work and skiing” remarks the former Snowbombing Festival DJ, almost abashedly. “For me, going skiing is all about getting up early and making a day of it. It doesn’t really work with nightlife”. Despite his long-standing association with skiing, Peterson is not on first name terms with all the winter sports. “I’m rubbish at snowboarding” he concedes, believing the in-line version to be “just too brutal. Snowboarding is great up until thirty”.

The talk has drifted into his dealings with the media because, of late, it almost seems as if it has become a sideline career for him. He had a similar travel-related piece published in The Guardian in the same week, this time a run down of his favourite clubbing venues across the globe. “I was just basically bigging up a load of clubs that I’ve got friends at and that are really good. I’d rather have precise information” he brags, proving that his worldwide traveller appeal seems appropriate for “filling everyone’s content pages”.

But all is not as it might seem at first glance. Peterson is not convinced that the reciprocation is just. “It’s cheap, man. I get a tiny little plug at the bottom of the article about an album that noone gives a fuck about. In the meantime, they get a few pages of glossy content for free. I’m sort of jesting a little but in a way, you are sort of filling in the pages. Some of this released stuff is just total crap. Absolute rubbish”.
Although Peterson is acutely aware of the element known as choice, he still insists “you’ve got to be careful”. Launching into another scathing attack, Peterson continues “some people approach you like ‘yeh, yeh, I wanna do a big thing about you and blah blah blah and it’s going to be in The Guardian or The Times or something’. It’ll be in a supplement. You’ve given them loads of stuff. Then you get it and you notice that the whole magazine is sponsored by Intel Computers or something. I want to say ‘hang on. That’s not cool at all’. I hate all that stuff that goes on”.

Equally, however, Peterson sees himself as a spokesperson for artists and musicians and appreciates “the way the business and the music scene are at the moment”. Basically, he is here to shout about it. “It’s important for the movement that I’m part of to get a little bit of space”. And although I enjoy nothing more than listening to artists releasing their demons, time constraints and word counts dictate that questions must steer towards his most recent release, Gilles Peterson In The House.

Peterson and compilations are like Kylie and Olivier - they just cant stay away from one another - and In The House is their latest liaison. However, asked if he himself is a fan of the In The House series, Peterson is as blunt as James. “Not really. I don’t listen to these sorts of records” he confides, trailing off into playful giggles. Shifting and squirming to get back onside, he adds “I’m not a guy who will go out and buy the latest Todd Terry mix album but I will check what they play”.

The In The House execs shouldn’t pack up shop just yet as Peterson carefully reconsiders his thoughts with honesty. “When I was asked to do that particular series it was the one that I really wanted to do the most because it is the one that has got the most kudos and the best DJs”. Narrowly missing the head-on collision with self-sabotage, he then veers back onto the press-yielding path. “When Defected came in, I was really pleased because they have a good way of getting me to a wider audience. It’s a different audience to the people who know me and buy my other records. It’s been really interesting”. Whether these latter statements are believeable is a trivial point, but the excitement his displays when mentioning his own label, Brownswood Recordings, is palpably genuine.

Launched only two years ago, and named after the North London road he once lived on, Brownswood is the current home to of-the-moment singer/songwriter Ben Westbeech, Japanese jazz punks Soil & ‘Pimp’ Sessions and the Brooklyn based jazz and bluesman, José James. “It is a struggle, to a degree, running a label at the moment so we’re not throwing everything into it because it would be absolutely suicidal” believes Peterson choosing, instead, to focus on a select few acts that show great potential. “He’s a really good DJ aswell” he says of Westbeech, “it’s really refreshing to hear him play. He comes from that Bristol drum & bass sound culture so he knows how to wobble a crowd. He also knows how to have a bit of a laugh. He’ll throw ‘Hit The Road Jack’-Ray Charles bang in the middle of some really mental records. I love that”. Oddly enough, Westbeech’s recent and highly acclaimed album is entitled Welcome To The Best Years Of Your Life.

Although he is enjoyably opinionated, Peterson only grants relationships second place. “One of the things with me is that I’ve always been really adamant about not allowing personalities to get in the way of the music. Meaning, if I don’t like someone but they make a great record, I’ll always play it”. This could be part of the reason he has become a cult in his own right. His understanding of jazz, funk, soul, hip hop, latin, house and drum&bass gives credence to his stock. Without it, could he hold his very own annual awards ceremony (The Worldwide Winners Awards) or even expand his Worldwide Festival into China, Japan and Germany? Well, he does and is.

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