How One Man's Misery Is Another Man's Disneyland

In the 'better to burn out than fade away' narrative often used to understand the grunge movement that sprang up in the late '80s, the parables of the Cobains and Staleys so often outshine that of the scene's Mark Lanegans.

Lanegan, who fronted The Screaming Trees when Sub Pop was only a cassette compilation, has maintained an illustrious and celebrated career as a collaborator (Queens Of The Stone Age, Isobel Campbell et al) and a solo artist. Now, he's at a point in his career where he can spin the kind of anecdotes that make even the stoniest of music fans giddy with fandom.

During our conversation he breaks off one such anecdote about being roommates with Dylan Carlson when the guitarist formed drone outfit Earth — a band whose latest release features vocals from Lanegan. He casually mentions what it was like to hear the band's first jams coming from his basement, but mid-story the singer stops. He doesn't really want to rehash the past.

"Along the way there's been a lot of other stuff that's surprised me and was cool, but y'know, it's there and you're still here. You've got to focus on today."

"You've got to focus on your daily life. Honestly I don't do a lot of living in the past, I try to do a lot of living in the here and now. But I will say this, probably one of the most exciting moments that's happened to me musically is when Greg Ginn of Black Flag called me at work to say he wanted to put out our records on SST. I remember I didn't believe it was him, I thought one of my friends was playing a joke on me. Along the way there's been a lot of other stuff that's surprised me and was cool, but y'know, it's there and you're still here. You've got to focus on today."

Today has Lanegan in a very good spot. The singer even goes as far as to describe feeling "totally blessed" with his current position in life. It seems like a far cry from his lyrics, which often dwell on melancholy, addiction and death.

But Lanegan doesn't see the disconnect between feeling happy with his station in life and writing sad songs. "I guess the music that's uplifting to me is the music that I connect to because I relate to it. I'm not sure why the lyrics I write are the way they are, but that's just the way they come out of me. I don't really question it. I don't do a lot of soul-searching or agonising over lyrics. They just are what they are. And I would say this, a song is not real life, it's a song. They start from a personal place, but that place may be something I've read about, or something that's happened to someone I know or something I've dreamt about. They start out as that, but then they get turned into a song. Some songs are more specific than others, but they're still not real life... they're fiction... pieces of dreams really.

"And I know that the people who seem to connect with the songs in a deeper way always express that they somehow make them feel better. And that's what the songs I connect to do to me. Not that I naturally feel bad to start with, but I find Nick Drake, Joy Division and a lot of old blues songs to be uplifting. They make me feel good. So I guess one man's misery is another man's Disneyland."

The gravel-throated raconteur confirms that, as is pretty much usual for him, he's planning another trip to Disneyland. He doesn't know if it's another solo record, something for the Mark Lanegan Band or material that will be used in an upcoming collaboration, but it's there. And we'll get to hear it soon enough.

"I have a lot of music recorded... I mean, the vocals and lyrics always comes later but I'm at the stage where I'm trying to put that together, which when I'm on tour I do sporadically. So it's tough to say where it's going.

"For me, creating music is not that big a deal. Maybe I'm delusional but I think I've gotten better at it as I've gotten older. When I used to make a record I would record a lot of songs and then mess with them, drop songs, add new ones. Always fucking around with them. But nowadays I write as many songs as I need for a record, record 'em and then, bang, I'm done. I guess anything you do for long enough sort of becomes a bit easier."

Lanegan pauses, perhaps reflecting on the decades he has spent honing his craft and how far he has come, or perhaps because he simply needs a break from talking. His enigmatic facade never falters as he lets out a single, wry laugh. "It's not like digging ditches."