“Is it starting to happen? That is wicked! I knew it would eventually.”

Tricky is delighted with me telling him that after decades of misguided mid-Atlanticisms, Irish hip-hop has finally found its own voice and, more importantly, accent. He’s been keen to collaborate with one of our homegrown rappers for years – indeed, Hot Press put out a call for demos on the Bristolian’s behalf a few years ago, which sadly came to nowt when a planned Tricky trip to Dublin had to be shelved. We’ve just sent another big bag of CDs to Mr. Thaws in Paris, so if you’re an Irish rapper and get a call from a bloke who sounds like a cross between Shabba Ranks and The Wurzels, you’ll know what
it’s about.
“The Irish are just really good storytellers and they’ve got attitude as well,” he proffers. “If there’s someone who’s got their shit together I’d love to work with them.”
The big news is that 13 years after going their separate professional and personal ways, Tricky and Martina Topley Bird are preparing to perform 1995’s Mercury Music Prize-winning Maxinquaye album in its entirety. So far there are only three confirmed shows – Bristol, London and Manchester at the end of this month – but the word from its creator is that there will definitely be an Irish date this summer.
Asked the obligatory, “Why get back together now?” question, he explains: “One of the reasons was being asked to play at the first Sundance Festival in London. I’m not sure if the invite came from Robert Redford himself, but there’hhbs no way I was going to turn that down. We’ve been touring my last album, Mixed Race, for 18 months now and to be honest I’m a bit tired of it. There’s a new record but I’m not ready to play all of it live yet, so I came up with the idea of doing Maxinquaye in its entirety followed by the songs that are coming out before Christmas as singles. The album will be early 2013.”
Hopping on the tour bus with Tricky and Martina will be their 17-year-old daughter, Mazy.
“Seventeen, that makes me feel proper old,” he laughs. “I’m trying to get her to do a song – she plays guitar
and sings – but long-term I think she’s more interested in acting or being a director. Because she’s been around it all her life she’s not overly-impressed by the
music industry.
“A question I get asked all the time is, ‘Are you still talking to Martina?’ but as the mother of my child I can’t get away from her!” he chuckles. “It’s impossible not to talk to her! The conversations we have aren’t about work, but our kid and we still hang out, y’know? When
Martina comes to Paris she’ll stay here with Mazy – we’re like family.”
It was a legal requirement when reviewing Maxinquaye in the ‘90s to use the word “paranoia” at least once. Was the vibe in the studio really that heavy?
“You’ve got to understand that I’m a street boy,” he answers. “There’s always going to be a degree of paranoia when you grow up in council flats. It’s normal in Knowle West to be wary of people, especially if they come from outside your community. If you’re not known, you’re not trusted, simple as.”
Producer Mark Saunders, who also has David Bowie, The Cure and A-ha on his CV, describes Maxinquaye as “chaotic” and “the most bizarre record I’ve ever worked on. It was a complete un-learning experience. Think of how to make a record, then forget everything you’ve learned and start completely backwards and upside down.” Fair comment?
“Chaotic? Only in his mind!” Tricky laughs again. “He told me, for instance, that ‘Strugglin’’ was musically impossible but I said, ‘If I can hear it in my head, it is possible.’ We argued for five or six hours until I got what I wanted. I don’t think it was hectic though, no. I’m not a party guy in the studio. I don’t take in 20 people, drinking and listening to my album over and over again. I can’t socialise and make music.”
Tricky’s cauliflower ears – let us not forget that he’s a tasty boxer – would have been burning last September when Public Enemy’s Chuck D bigged up the Maxinquaye cover of ‘Black Steel’ in the Hot Press Chatroom @
Electric Picnic.
“I’ve met Chuck D and I’ve met Flavor Flav. They’ve been on stage with me, which is just unbelievable ‘cos starting they were such a big influence on my music. They’re totally, totally good people.”
Does Tricky agree with Chuck that hip-hop needs to stop yo-ing, ho-ing and bitchin’ and start focusing on community again?
“He’s totally right, mate. Calling a girl certain things on a record is just not possible for me. I’ve got a daughter and sisters and cousins. I’m not interested in your cars or your money or how many gold records you’ve got.”
Here’s an idea for Kanye, Jay-Z, P-Diddy and Fiddy – let’s take it as given that you’re richer and fucking more girls than us mere mortals and move on?
“Artists get to a certain point of success and start surfing on their ego,” Tricky ventures. “I’ve just been listening to the new De La Soul record which is incredible – there’s a song about the relationships in the band that’s the hip-hop equivalent of Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid – but it’s never going to sell as well as Kanye West because you’ve so many people buying into that bling nonsense.”
Music aside, Tricky’s last visit to Dublin was notable for the posters dotted around the Academy, which proclaimed: “Please note the artist may use herbal cigarettes during tonight’s performance. These will be a prop used in keeping with the theatrical nature of the show. Any herbal cigarettes used will not contain any nicotine or tobacco and will not contravene the current no smoking laws under the Public Health Tobacco Act.”
I was about ten metres from the stage and the aroma was, to quote his old mates Massive Attack,
distinctly Jamaican.
“Hehehehehe,” he cackles. “I’m an adult, I should be allowed to smoke on stage if I want to. I’m not promoting anything, but I smoke puff so I had to be a bit creative!”