Urthboy interview by Dan Cameron

Interview with Tim Levinson
By Dan Cameron

Creative output is like throwing your flares up, trying to put a spotlight down on what you’re doing,” says Tim Levinson, priming his flare gun. Somewhere in between fronting The Herd and leading Australia’ most progressive hip-hop focused label, Elefant Traks, through uncharted territories, the artist also known as Urthboy has found the time to compile his second solo album.

The Signal is a mature, heartfelt record that never eschews its grounding in hip-hop. While The Herd may roam at the whim of many elephants, an Urthboy album explores the perimeter of one artist’s world, and sometimes ventures beyond them.

The follow-up to his debut solo mission, 2004′ A Distant Sense of Random Menace, The Signal was, according to Urthboy, “..just an avalanche of creativity in between The Herd touring and label managing. It came together very quickly and I feel like it was waiting to have a few months where it was prioritised. We found an opening last year and went full throttle on it.”

Where The Herd’ lyrical fodder is distinctly political, Urthboy’ solo work allows him to flex on more personal experiences. As an MC comfortable with incorporating situations beyond his own realm, he’ also conscious of keeping things grounded in a viable frame of reference.

“You have to take something you’ve experienced and appropriate it to a mood or a feeling that you’re writing about. Hopefully that gives it some sort of authenticity. You gotta try and apply things from your own life to the subject matter that you’re covering. You don’ need to be a pilot to talk about flying, there’ a danger of pretentiousness there, but there’ room for your identity to come out, something personal that can’ be anyone else’ story.”

Urthboy’ talent for juxtaposing a bigger picture with the humanity inherent in it is illustrated in “The Clocks’, a love song set against the background of a sudden technological collapse. Essentially the story of two people adrift amidst the confusion of mechanical silence and lost connectivity, Levinson still finds time to explore the local and global implications of the unexpected event: “For a second y’all suckers stopped trying to get cred / The west ceased pumping Islam full of lead.”

“You find your best alibis in the strangest corners, the most unexpected of places,” explains Urthboy. “With “The Clocks’, I like the idea of a context which is so apocalyptic that it can be the bed for the story of one person’ love for another. It sounds a little bit soft, but no one can front on that. The setting of all technology coming to a close and shutting down, Air Forces being grounded, cars coming to a halt, that sort of setting is a great place to get back to the most basic of human interactions. We get so caught up in being alive that it takes those radical upheavals to make you reflect back on the things that keep you wanting to live another day.”

The Signal shoots straight from the hip hop on cuts such as the bubbling, Count Bounce-produced, title track or the Hau and Muph-guested “Nothing That I’d Rather Do’, but it’s also loaded with intense, often moving moments. One verse destined to hit the unsuspecting listener for six is on “Over Before It Began’. Spinning the story of a potential love found in the right place at the wrong time, Levinson first details the story from the male point of view, before turning the tables in the second verse.

“I think you’ve got to tread carefully when writing from a perspective other than your own. That’s why a lot of my lyrics are from the angle of a male, no matter what the subject of the song is. I like the idea of sexes having more in common with each other than differentiation, though – which is a similar way to how I perceive different cultures. Those differences are beautiful and harsh, but the similarities are always there and acknowledging them is very important. From where I was coming from in this song, I wasn’t out to make either side ‘wrong’, so I felt comfortable stepping into the female protagonist’s shoes and flipping the script.”

The track features a surprising and rewarding collaboration, chorus vocals and guitars from bluesy singer-songwriter Mia Dyson. According to Levinson, they had only known each other from festivals.

“I really love what she does. She lives down south of Melbourne and Pip (the track’s producer, Count Bounce from TZU) lives North of Melbourne, so with me living in Sydney, it went back and forth for a while until she took a chance and headed up to Pip’ studio and started on the track from scratch.”

Meanwhile, “Black Dog’ tackles a male perspective on melancholy. It is inspired in part by rugby league icon Steve Rogers, who took his own life in early 2006 after a struggle with depression. “He’ a revered guy, instrumental in elite sport and bringing up an elite sportsman as a son. If you can’ be affected by the way he went down, it indicates we’ve become pretty desensitised. The song draws on my experiences and the way that people experience the subject matter in public. It’s this thing which has been swept under the rug, for something that exists on such a broad level and touches so many people in so many ways. People have it on various levels. You have people who deal with it and move on, and people who get debilitated by it. Across the board, it’s so prevalent.”

Naturally, there is overtly political content as well. “Megaphone Stallone’ is dedicated to David and Terry Hicks.

“Australia is a passive country. We are some of the most non-radical people of the world. Our sense of fair go and laidback character that we’re so renowned for is so laidback that sometimes you’ve got to tap people to see if they’re still alive. Australia has been up in arms about David Hicks, and that shows how far it has gone.”

Even though Hicks was set to return to Australia by the time the song was being completed, a decision was made to keep the outro which dedicated the song to the alleged unlawful combatant and called for him to be treated with belated dignity. “Five and a half years is at least five years too long to be held without trial in those circumstances. It’s the magic election year trick. Whilst we’re here and being up in arms, let’s not fall to the greatest trick of the politician – wait ’til an election year to solve the problem. Election years are amazing for the transformation of seemingly rigid and supposedly moralistic politicians.”

Even though he’ an integral part of it and arguably at its cutting edge, Levinson is largely unconcerned with discussing the Australian hip-hop scene. “I get bored talking about it. I try not to look too deeply into how things have evolved.” He is however, concerned with hip-hop’ representation in a popular press understandably dominated by its rock-centric roots. “You’re in a rock n roll country. That’s how writers have grown up. It’s not a conspiracy, just a sheer scale thing. I’m always online and monitoring stuff because of the label. It’s part of my job and I do look at all the reviews for our artists and read other reviews and I’m always wanting whoever’ looking into it to analyse the music. There are some of the most blatantly condescending writers who have little codes that automatically suggest that there’ not that insight – it’s a surface level process where writers will say things like “skip-hop’. Who the hell says “skips’? The last time I heard that was Acropolis Now. Whatever – it’s not going to change the music, which has to stand on its own two feet, but it does make you frustrated. It’s not that these individual writers are complete fuckwits, but the people who have been assigned to write about our culture means that more often than not the analysis doesn’ judge the music on its own terms.”

He’ as quick to acknowledge the flip side of the coin, that the Australian hip-hop movement is young, and the recent avalanche of product may leave the unassuming critic out of their depth.

“You could also argue that the substandard nature of some hip-hop means that some people write it off because of the sheer volume of crap. It becomes harder to validate a whole country’ worth of music when people’ main experience of it has been some tokenistic song.”

Ultimately, Levinson is kept busy enough balancing the label with his own career, both solo and with The Herd, to spend too much brain time on the politics of art.

“My stuff gets put onto the back burner. It’s a tricky balance. In an ideal world, there’ no way I’d be managing artists and a label. Everyone in The Herd contributes to it, but I wake up and work through the week and eat, breathe and sleep the bastard. It’s a fun job, but then trying to manage a creative career, not only in The Herd, but my solo stuff? I don’ know too many artists who would really enjoy it… but good luck to “em.”

The Signal is out on Elefant Traks/Inertia.