Not that he’s one to toot his own horn (ooh – sorry) but Klaxons’ Simon Taylor-Davis reckons the controversy-dogged nu-ravers have been hard done by since contentiously bagging the Mercury prize.

“People think that our second album got rejected by the label which is a pity cos its kind of overshadowed everything we’ve done since then,” he complains as he idly pops open a can of cola. “I think some jokey comment we made got misinterpreted. Then it went up on Wikipedia and everyone took it as gospel.”
Why not take the offending article down?
“We’re actually interested in the whole idea of misinformation,” he says. “Hence us not doing a anything about Wikipedia. It’s amazing how people will believe, just ‘cos they see it in writing. It’s been tough. We can appreciate there’s a funny side too.”
For the record then, here’s what happened. Coming off their Mercury win for Myths Of The Near Future, Klaxons hooked up with Simian Mobile Disco’s James Ford, their long-time producer. Squeezed between hectic bouts of touring, they kicked around a few ideas and knocked out some proggy, quasi-instrumental pieces, which took the HP Lovecraft-shakes-a-glostick blueprint of their debut and ratcheted up the balls-out weirdness.
So far, so predictable. However, when time came to start work on a proper sequel, both sides recognised a fresh approach was called for. So they wished each other well and moved on without any interference from their Big Bad label.
“We made a series of songs with James, some of which will come out at a later date. We came to the end – he was busy producing Florence and the Machine and we reckoned we needed a break. So we decided, that, for the next batch of songs, we’d work with someone else.”
But with who exactly? At the time, no names sprang to mind. Within a few days, though, a random conversation with a US booking agent had led to their getting in touch with LA producer Ross Robinson, a Rick Rubin-esque figure best known for his work with be-masked sludge rockers Slipknot. Twelve hours later he was on a plane to London, en route to a surreal getting-to-know-you meeting.
“It was a strange first encounter,” admits Simon, who will be forever loathed by a hefty segment of the indie-bloke community on account of having dated Lovefoxx from CSS (yes, we’d forgotten them too). “We met him in a bar and the first thing he did was to walk right up, look me in the eyes and say ‘what’s going on in your personal life?’ He went straight in, at an amazingly personal level. It was an honest and slightly uncomfortable first meeting. We didn’t talk about bands or anything like that. He asked us why we wanted to make music, what we wanted to achieve. It was a very spiritual thing. He left the room and, right away, we all went ‘that’s him, that’s the guy we need.’”
Critics might dispute the wisdom of the collaboration. Slightly more rough around the edges than their debut, second LP Surfing The Void has received a rather hostile response, with one British reviewer prepared, in July, to declare it the worst album of the year (“so much sound and fury signifying nothing, presented in a brittle, shrill manner that renders it virtually unlistenable,” he did thunder). Then again, it wasn’t the first one star review of their career – when they won the Mercury for Myths Of The Near Future, a prominent UK broadsheet cheekily reprinted the one-star review they’d awarded on its release. Klaxons do have a talent for rubbing people up the wrong way, don’t they?
“I think we’ve always divided opinion,” muses Simon. “That’s a positive thing. It creates debate. To disregard other people’s opinions is wrong. That said, we are misrepresented a lot of the time. I suppose that’s the chaos of living in the modern world, where everyone is drowning in information.”
They’re certainly creating a fuss with the video to new single, ‘Twin Flames’, a surreal quasi-pornographic short film depicting a same-sex orgy as imagined by Salvador Dali – Pitchfork magazine, not exactly a stronghold of prudery, has already dubbed it an “epically disgusting body horror fantasia”. One of the inspirations behind the spot was a summer the band spent in New York with psychedelic writer Daniel Pinchbeck. Staying in his downtown loft, they were encouraged, explains Simon, to work through an ongoing case of writer’s block by using Shamanic healing techniques. Er, isn’t that another way of saying they horsed loads of mindbending drugs and stayed up all night talking new age gibberish?
“They get very upset with you if you call those things drugs,” he says. “They’re healing techniques and they’ve been used for thousands of years. They are very protective of that world. We went out and took a peek into it and learned a lot from it. That’s really the length of what I want to say about it. They are very protective of it and sensitive to people claiming it’s something that it’s not. “
Rather less esoteric was a chance collaboration on BBC radio with singing drinks-cabinet Charlotte Church. The hook-up came about after frontman Jamie Reynolds lost his voice. Due on the air within an hour, the band asked Church, also a guest, if she knew of any vocal techniques that would see Reynolds through the performance. Instead, she offered to fill in for him, singing ‘Twin Flames’ live on air.
“She’s a lovely down to earth woman. One of those people who is just so humble and fun. So was up for it. We did a 10 second rehearsal where they were reading the news. Jamie taught her the melody and we went for it. I think it was beautiful. It’s one of those funny, meaningful coincidences. It’s a shame we haven’t been able to do it properly again. Maybe we will one day.”
As it’s the HP Yuletide issue, we are obliged to wrap-up on a seasonal note. So, Simon, what’s your all time favourite Christmas tune?
“I would say ‘Walking In The Air’ from The Snowman. Largely because I find the visuals that accompany it so creepy. It’s a very moving song but a bit disturbing too. That’s what I like about it.”

Surfing The Void is out now. As is the video to ‘Twin Flames’. Youtube it if you dare.