Hitting New Heights

The familiar fringe that flops down over his eyes has some flecks of grey now. Those eyes might have a few more laugh-lines, but they still have a sparkle. Neil Finn has been doing this for over 30 years. And still can find the wonder in it. “I'm as fascinated by music as much, maybe more, than I've ever been,” he states. “But that doesn't mean there aren't dark days where you can't quite find what you're trying to achieve.”

Many would name him a master of the craft, the art, the mystery of songwriting. He offers some of the formula: “There's inspiration, creativity – and some bluff. And maybe a bit of skulduggery.”

It's probably up to the listener to work out just what proportion of those ingredients are present across Dizzy Heights. It''s very much a family affair: wife Sharon, and sons Liam and Elroy centring a band that trooped off to Flaming Lips' producer Dave Fridmann's studio in upstate New York. “We'd actually did a couple of 'family band' gigs at the end of the Pajama Club tour. This may be a step to one day doing an album where we can all write the songs, then play it all together. New Zealand's Von Trapps? Maybe not. There's not many truly memorable family groups. OK, maybe The Partridge Family,” he jokes.

“It's about finding a balance. Music is the most important thing in the whole world, beside my family. But then you recognise the cosmic significance of a few songs is fairly small. You've got to keep both of those thoughts in your head, otherwise you'll disappear up your own arse. But make it too frivolous and it's all too much just a game of getting famous.”

But Neil Finn does have the fame, and a canon of songs that truly affect people. There's a pride in the work, perhaps tempered with a bit of a self-effacing New Zealand reserve. “I don't really sit around and think about the 'legacy' aspect of it. But I do know I've written things that mean a lot to a lot of people. I appreciate that exchange – that's profound, I'm lucky to be part of that.”

However, a competitive element seems absurd to him. “Comparing and connecting my work to the work of others, it makes no sense. To be honest, I'm bored by the idea of all those lists that seem to be the fashion, particularly when I'm not on one of them. And I just hate being asked 'So, what's the favourite song you've written?' That's ridiculous to me, an impossible question. I can maybe pick 20 that I'm really happy with, but don't ask me for three or five.

“Maybe one of the secrets of a successful song is it sounds like you're revealing yourself – even when you're really not. What might start from some personal point would get bogged if you kept just trying to diarise your life – although that does seems to work for Taylor Swift,” he chuckles. “That's where the skulduggery comes in – to open up doors to possibilities, so people can imagine their own scenarios.”

So, we think we know Neil Finn, but probably don't. We presume he's the character in his songs. He then demystifies one of greatest of these supposed confessional moments: “Maybe I'm being disingenuous, but Into Temptation is really from two experiences – neither of which was me having it off with a stranger in a hotel, as much as people might want it to be.

“Basically, there was a rugby team and a netball team staying at the hotel I was in, I heard what I thought was someone knocking on my door, stuck my head out to find that next door along one of the netball girls was, er, 'calling on' one of the rugby boys. It was actually very comical – he saw her, then saw me looking, much embarrassment all round, and I just quickly went back in the room and scribbled down 'Opened up the door, I couldn't believe my luck'….

“And the 'Knowing full well the earth will rebel' is from after one of the big earthquakes in LA, one of those hellfire preachers saying that was God's punishment for America's sins. But there's not a person who doesn't understand the theme – but sometimes banal circumstances can make for a great song.” What makes Neil Finn different from we mere mortals is not many of us could find that kind of emotion in the banal.