- Music
- 22 May 07
In 2007, no artist exemplifies the MySpace, DIY manifesto better than Wimbledon bass-basher Jamie T.
Jamie T (full name Jamie Treays) is in Whelan’s, nursing a pint of Stella a couple of hours before taking the stage next door in The Village. His appearance and demeanour are exactly as one might expect, provided you’re familiar with his persona and recordings; pale, gaunt and unshaven: good-natured, but with an edge. The Wimbledon singer-songwriter is also a little tipsy, and gives the impression of one who does not suffer fools gladly. When certain pre-conceptions about his music are cited, he dismisses them in mildly vitriolic fashion – though he is never less than polite to the interviewer.
For instance, when asked if he considers the likes of Mike Skinner and Plan B to be his contemporaries, Treays responds with characteristically cheery bluntness.
“I don’t really give a shit, to be honest,” he grins. “They’re both good artists, I like them, but I don’t think of them as contemporaries. I think of my contemporaries as people I know quite well – my friends.”
Treays is quick to emphasise how much he enjoys his current lifestyle and recent successes, though he does display a certain weariness with aspects of his occupation. He describes his debut album’s impressive UK chart placing as a “mind-boggling” occurrence, but also confesses that it left him “petrified”. When quizzed about why he finds fame stressful, Treays elaborates further, though he states firmly that he doesn’t consider himself “famous”.
“The responsibilities that some people think you should have, because you’re doing well – that’s stressful,” he explains. “I don’t think I have any fucking responsibility – no more than anyone else. That sounds strange, but you’ve just gotta look after yourself. If that means locking yourself away, and not doing this or that – then do it!”
Jamie T answers some questions on auto-pilot, but there are certain subjects which pique his interest. When I ask if there's a strong British quality to his music, and if people therefore react differently to it outside of the UK, he begins to respond more eloquently.
“I play to people in Europe, and a lot of them don’t understand what I’m saying,” he admits. “British music has something to do with the atmosphere around us – it’s about observing. Some people hate British music for that, and say: 'Oh, you’re so inward!' But, some of the best things come out of looking inward, and not giving a fuck what anyone else thinks. I think the British are pretty good at that.”
Treays’s lyricism is firmly rooted in the everyday, and he still records music in his bedroom. Will this approach alter given the changes his life lifestyle has undergone?
“My experiences haven’t changed too much, though I work a lot harder now than I did before. The experiences I talk about are general, simple, everyday life things, and you’re going to find them in every style of living.”
Sonically, there may be some changes next time out. Treays has been listening to classic soul and surfer music, and hints that both will be evident on his sophomore release. All that’s left for him to do now is crack America. Is he gagging to play out there again?
“Not anymore than anywhere else,” he asserts. “I can’t be bothered with all this ‘Break This Territory!’ stuff. Who gives a fucking shit? I just wanna play some gigs, and go places I’ve never been before. Going back to a place over and over again, just so you can break it – that’s a waste of time!”
Touché.