Living While You Can

It's easy to imagine a songwriter and performer of such success and decorum as Tim Finn – he, of course, earning eminence for decades of creativity with Split Enz, Crowded House (briefly) and under his own name – being almost resentful of being asked to drag himself away from the sanctity of his beautiful waterside Auckland abode and the comfort of his family's arms to entertain a bunch of potentially unruly Aussies. Especially when each of these fans undoubtedly comes armed with their own take on Finn's storied career and laden with expectations about which songs best represent their own pasts. Fortunately for us, this hypothesis contains a fraction too much fiction, and the reality is that, like the consummate professional that he is, he's stoked to be treading the boards for us once more.

“It's exciting, because like everybody these days I spend a lot of time in front of the computer, and it's nice to get out somewhere where it's not digital and it's real, and you're catching up with people – people who have seen you play for maybe decades on and off, and then you hook up again,” he smiles. “You can't hide – you're onstage and it's real – and I love that.

“There's something romantic about playing live. It's hard to put my finger on it, but I guess it's that old troubadour thing – it can be risky, it can go wrong, things can happen that you don't expect – and you put yourself out there and let the crowd enter the fray. Something can happen between you, and I suppose I use songs these days from the past that really connect with the crowd, so that we can all get into that zone, and then mix it up with some newer stuff or some more obscure stuff or whatever, but basically the spine of the show is going for that connection. I love it.”

And these days it's hardly like Finn is short of material with which he can forge this bond with his crowd. “There's a few to pick from now, which is pretty amazing,” he chuckles. “When I do a big festival show or something I can literally play about 11 or 12 songs that most people will know – some of those songs they'll know really well – and it gives you this ability to take the audience on a ride. If you play a festival they're already on a wave, so you can just hopefully take them higher. I used to want to play new songs all the time – and I still do mix it up with the new – but I've realised that I don't get tired of certain songs like Poor Boy or Weather With You or even I See Red; I sort of still get into them still, and that surprised me when I discovered that.

“A lot of my songs are theatrical in a sense – they kind of theatricalise emotions – so I'm up there singing Dirty Creature and I'm sort of not doing that much, but just moving in a certain way that puts me in touch with that anxiety and that dread, but it's in a safe place where I can play it out. Because they come from real places, and you don't really want to go back to those places, but you can sort of play with it like an actor would play with a line or something. It's real but it's also heightened, and I enjoy that – it feels fresh every time.”

In a situation such as these forthcoming shows which by necessity cause Finn to cast an eye back over his career, does taking stock of his many and varied achievements bring forth a sense of pride?

“I guess so, yeah,” he proffers humbly. “There's definitely a sense of satisfaction with certain key moments, and those key songs that you've written that sort of span across the years; you can probably only hope for a few of those. For any kind of artist there's always those peak moments – peak songs or peak paintings – and you're grateful for those and you feel good about those, but also like any songwriter I suppose I'm most excited about the one that I wrote this morning, or yesterday.”

And what about his long-term relationship with Australia; does he enjoy making his way across the ditch to play shows?

“I love Australia,” he says unreservedly. “My wife's from Sydney and our first child – our eldest son – he was born in Sydney, so we have very strong roots there. And I lived in Melbourne for years and years, and in Sydney for years and years. I miss Australia sometimes – we come over once or twice a year, at least – but there's just something about the way it feels over there; the bush and the dryness, and the crackle and the heat. I love New Zealand, but there's something about Australia and the people that's gotten under my skin over the years as well.”