Robyn Hitchcock is nothing if not versatile, finds Tim Hughes

Eccentric, whimsical and poetic, Robyn Hitchcock is an unsung national treasure.

A vast legacy of beautiful music precedes him, yet, at the age of 61, this most English of singer-songwriters is still turning out his best work.

Through his work with Soft Boys, the Egyptians and his lengthy solo career, he has channelled his own surreal and offbeat sense of humour, earning him a cult following which far exceeds his commercial success. Yet, even after 25 studio albums (excluding the stacks of live recordings, compilations, collaborations and rarities), he remains an enigmatic figure.

So who exactly is Robyn Hitchcock?

“I’m a slightly exaggerating mirror,” he tells me. “What life and others are to me, I beam back in a mildly distorted way. As a musician, I’m intricate and spidery, but I like a good tune. Life is complicated enough, music is there for some emotional clarity. It unblocks the sinuses of the soul.”

The last thing one expects from this esoteric psychedelic folk-rock icon is a straight answer, and he obliges by not giving any.

Born in London, the son of the author, screenwriter and cartoonist Raymond Hitchcock, he was educated at Winchester, and from there went to Cambridge, working his way through a succession of bands before forming Dennis and the Experts — which went on to become The Soft Boys. Out of the band’s five studio albums the most acclaimed is 1980s Underwater Moonlight. Inspired by the harmonies of 1960s country-rock bands like The Byrds and the very English acid-soaked space-pop of Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd, it is today viewed as a psychedelic classic and went on to influence bands such as REM, The Stone Roses and The Pixies.

That was followed by solo releases, and projects with former bandmates playing as both The Soft Boys and, more significantly, The Egyptians.

A series of collaborations led him to work with Peter Buck, co-founder and lead guitarist of R.E.M, the Athens, Georgia alt-rocker joining him in his band Venus 3 — along with R.E.M. drummer Bill Rieflin.

Robyn, who describes his music as “listening to paintings”, is the first to admit his has been an unconventional path.

“Are artists conventional?” he says. “The ability to follow your own path, whilst somehow enabling others to walk down it, is one of the hallmarks of the artist. My longevity is because I’m still alive, and finding life as perplexing as ever.”

Along the way he has also thrown himself into cartoon art (much of it for his album sleeves), story-telling (during his concerts) and acting (playing a spy in Jonathan Demme’s 2004 remake of The Manchurian Candidate and, appropriately enough, a musician in 2008’s Rachel Getting Married).

“I could draw, write, and think before I could play music. But I always wanted to be in music and I would say that, these days, that is what I’m best at. A lot of people who play music can also draw or paint, and vice versa. The arts are neighbours of each other, like the Scandinavian countries. There’s not that big a barrier between one discipline and the next. My songs tend to be visual, like those of people I admire. If Bob Dylan’s songs are cinematic, then mine are more like small paintings.”

A musicians’ musician, one notable gig at the O2 Academy Oxford turned into a de-facto R.E.M gig — with frontman Michael Stipe emerging from the crowd to join him and the Venus 3 on stage. Radiohead’s Thom Yorke was also down the front.

“The Venus 3 are an empathic unit. Smart enough to play simple music simply, and revel in those three chords. They are the best ‘rock’ band I've played with.

Oxford Mail:

“I know Michael a little: he comes and goes, but I only met Thom Yorke once, when the R.E.Ms turned up in Oxford. I admire their determination and ability to broadcast themselves. Michael’s always very nice about my songs. He’s got the power. For this tour, though, I’m acoustic with the divine Jenny Adejayan on cello.”

It sees him armed with new album, The Man Upstairs, which, I suggest, is his most heartfelt and honest to date. “Thank you!” he says. “Heartfelt and emotional is what singing is all about: whether the songs are your own or by somebody else. I’ve learned that over the decades. My head is slowly making room for my heart.”

It is refreshingly uncluttered and contains some beautifully realised cover versions of tunes by the Psychedelic Furs and Roxy Music. “I think I managed to get the essence of the Furs and Roxy songs I did on this record. I’ve always known they were great songs, but their composers probably never saw them naked.”

He admits he has never shied away from interesting covers. “Every writer has their place on the emotional spectrum: Kate Bush, Townes Van Zant, Lucinda Williams, Bryan Ferry, Van Morrison, Joni Mitchell and beyond... including me.

“Everyone has a flavour of feeling peculiar to them, I think. My songs cover a certain range of feelings: if I want to reach beyond that, I’ll sing a someone else’s song. I’ve realised over the decades that I’m as much a performer as I am a songwriter, and there’s no shame in that.”

So what is he proudest of — both as a man and an artist? “As a man I’m most proud of having been a fairly consistent artist.Some songs and performances are better than others, but they need to be in the distance before you can tell, don't they?

“I’m proud of having got this far without being capsized. Artists work for unborn eyes: our instinct is to leave messages for the future to decode, or connect with. We live and die, but our culture could go on forever. Possibly.”

And when and where was he most happy? “I like that you put it in the past!” he replies. “I am most happy being immersed in what I do, like a child playing in a sand-pit. Usually that means playing music or painting; but it can be just walking or being in a landscape. What a privilege: to be part of the picture.

“Rock and roll is an old man’s game,” he says. “All the great rockers are pensioners now, and most are male pensioners. I have a Senior Railcard, and I’m only a folkie!”

And as a former Cantabrigian, which does he now prefer: Oxford or Cambridge?

“I had fun hanging out with the philosophers’ sons in Oxford in the late ‘60s & early ‘70s, reading Bunty and listening to Country Joe & The Fish. Later I spent more time in Cambridge than in Oxford, but I’m really glad there’s the pair of them,” he laughs. “It would be spooky with only one.”

Robyn Hitchcock
St John the Evangelist Church, Oxford
Saturday
Tickets £17 from wegottickets.com