Never let it be said that Tracy Chapman doesn’t work against the grain. On the monumental weekend that most musical artists are lining up to put their stamp on the Live 8 extravaganza, the San Francisco native and all-round political pundit has turned down the chance to play the Berlin leg of the marathon gig.

“I was invited to play a week ago,” she explains the day before the Live 8 shows. “It was such short notice that I really couldn’t prepare to come to do a performance. It’s a combination of things really; the timing wasn’t good but I have to say I was surprised to see they didn’t invite African artists to play on the bill in the beginning. That didn’t sit well with me. You need to hear African voices in this context.”
It’s perhaps safe to say that Chapman likes to confound expectations, a quality that belies the sometimes-AOR quality of her repertoire. For a start, she has enlisted Red Hot Chili Peppers bassist Flea to perform on her forthcoming album, Where You Live. It’s an improbable pairing, if ever there was one.
“He’s great,” she enthuses. “We love each other’s music and he said to call me if I ever wanted him to play on my record, so naturally I did. He played on three songs on the record...he’s such a great musician.”
Where You Live is the first stirrings of life from Chapman’s camp since her 2002 opus, Let It Rain. In addition to performing several benefit shows in the US (the social causes that stir her interest are numerous and varied), Chapman has been working on cultivating a sense of relative “normality” at home.
“I like everything that has to do with the creative part of making music,” she explains. “I love making records and love playing music with other people, though I don’t really like touring as a way of life. It's so intimate, sometimes I think we should have therapists on the road with us!”
By her own admission, it has been a struggle to maintain this sense of normality; even with six multi-platinum records to her name, Chapman still finds that she needs to conquer her own shyness.
“Living in San Francisco, not living in an entertainment centre, was a conscious decision in that respect,” she muses. “The thing is, when I was young I was really shy. I grew up in this family where kids weren’t supposed to talk, it was like, ‘be nice and be quiet’. I think that sort of thing stays with you as an adult. It’s been an effort over the years to manage the shyness... necessity helped me get over it, I guess.”
Though this sense of reserve never quite manifested itself onstage, Chapman recalls moments in her career where timidity won out.
“I found myself in a lobby in a hotel near Al Green and I couldn’t say anything” she recalls with a laugh. “I wanted to say, ‘I love your music’, but was too terrified! I also met Stevie Wonder in an elevator and I waved at him. God, I felt so stupid...it was ridiculous!”