Crime & the City Solution have finally come of age with their new single and forthcoming album, 'The Bride Ship'. Sam King joins Simon Bonney and Bronwyn Adams on a voyage of discovery.
A bad question produces no answer. A worse one produces a fat lip. But, so far, no one has produced anything to match Crime & the City Solution vocalist Simon Bonney's response to my question about influences.
'There was this pirate captain called Edward Lowe, who used to chop the lips off people who disagreed with him,' he declares enthusiastically.
'It was in this book I found on castaways, which had all these stories about people who had been marooned and had had to survive on nothing but faith.
'There was one guy, the same guy who wrote The Little Prince, who was stranded in a desert and he kept hallucinating that he was being saved by Bedouins. He hallucinated so much that when he was finally rescued he refused to believe it.'
The kind of faith responsible for such errors of judgement is the inspiration for Crime's latest, best single, 'In the Shadow of No Man'. It's a giant leap froward, a massive progression that sees them seizing and building on the impetus of their previous single, 'On Every Train (Grain Will Bear Grain).'
And if 'On Every Train' saw the band searching desperately for something then 'Shadow' - if not actually locating it - at least narrows the field down.
It's a song of universality and brotherhood. It's first line, 'In the end we are all brothers', sums up the new feeling of unity displayed by Bonney and partner, violinist Bronwyn Adams.
''In the Shadow of No Man' is a song of hope,' says Bonney. 'It's about realising your potential, which I think is quite important. I find it sad when people don't realise their potential, when things stand in their way or when they let things stand in their way.'
'Shadow' is a product of Crime's growth over the past couple of years, mirroring their transformation from rough, highly emotional individuals to calmer, more assured, worldly-wise people.
It's the sound of Crime finally finding themselves, both lyrically and musically, as musicians Alexander Hacke (guitar), Chrislo Haas (keyboards), Thomas Stern (bass) and Mick Harvey (drums) home in on Bonney's lyrical openness.
'I think what distinguishes 'Shadow' from our previous work is that I see more hope now than I did,' contends Bonney. 'I was getting rid of a lot of shit from my past on the first one, two, even three records we did ('The Dangling Man' EP, 'Just South of Heaven' and 'Room of Lights').
'Now, I'm much more content about how I feel about life and how I view the world, and that shows in songs like 'Shadow'. It's just about being content with yourself.
'The realisation I made, which is essential to a lot of my work, is that I no longer need to feel that I'm the most important person in the world, but I can still feel quite special just for being a human being, for being part of the universe. I feel much better just about being.'
Bonney certainly appears happier now. Both he and Adams (who's not in the best of moods owing to a traumatic taxi journey) radiate the kind of disturbing ease with themselves and their surroundings that is usually the preserve of born-again Christians or expectant mums.
Bonney, in particular, seems to have shed almost all of his emotional and psychological burdens, a move that gives him a quiet, almost childlike intensity. 'Shadow' is so more emotional, more carefree. Do you feel like a romantic?
Yeah, I guess so. I don't know if this is a good thing. I used to think that emotions were far more extreme than they are for me now. Like if I love someone, like if I love Bronwyn, it's a much quieter thing than it was when I was younger.
'Then, I had the impression that the only truth was the most extreme truth, that things had to be really intense and that was what being a romantic, passionate person was all about. I don't hold with that any more. I think it's more peaceful, more relaxed...
'Like, 'Rose Blue' (from 'Just South of Heaven') was a statement about a relationship I was having at that time with Bronwyn that I thought was really destructive.
'It didn't immediately become constructive because of that, but I was aware that it was destructive and I was taking action to curb that. I don't think it's that destructive any more.'
This attitude to intensity, this development of a subtle power, is the key to Crime's success. It's a power that comes less from the extremes it reaches than from the tension it creates as it gets there. Bonney sees this as a natural product of his present state of contentment.
'Its just being more relaxed with yourself. I've always wanted to capture that, really. There's one movie I really love that does that which is Rumblefish.
It's not the story, but it had this real understanding of silence, when everything seems very distant, and you can hear leaves rustling and it's very loud. I really love that sense of space and silence, live a very loud silence. To me that's intense but it's also quiet.'
Crime use this idea of extreme silence to create a feeling of just-contained explosion in their songs.
'I've always liked that,' admits Bonney. 'Because what happens when you get to a climax and that's it? That always leaves me a bit flat. My idea of musically interpreting the world is that there are all these highs and lows and that it never gets to that final boom - I like to build.