Canada, the brave

He’s the flamboyant front man whose theatrical live performances have made him a cult figure in Indie music and he even has his own glamorous alter ego (a middle-aged black transvestite named Georgie Fruit). Only today, he’s neither of those things. Today, he’s just plain old Kevin Barnes, hanging out at home with his dog in Athens, Georgia, chatting to me about his new album.

The record in question, Of Montreal’s tenth, is called False Priest, a title I suggest might resonate particularly strongly with an increasingly disgruntled Irish Catholic population.
“Yeah, I was raised Catholic too,” he says, “and I definitely remember from an early age being a little suspicious of the church. I could never really get behind the philosophy, so I think on some level I’ve always had a negative view of organised religion.”
‘Catholicism is potentially evil,” he reasons. “There’s potential for evil in every religion – anything that segregates us or forces us to choose sides. It’s all just fiction and mythology and superstition. I guess I just don’t believe, I can’t believe, in a God that would support that kind of activity. So it’s sort of a reference to that, but the record really has nothing to do with it!”
Quite the contrary, in fact; the freewheeling sound of False Priest suggests its makers are anything but oppressed.
“Not at all!” he laughs, “It’s just a title!”
I mention that the new LP feels somewhat slicker than previous outings, calling to mind some of the smoother rap albums of the 1990s.
“It’s funny that you mention ‘90s rap,” Barnes says, “’cause we’re pretty far removed from that! But definitely we would listen to Dr. Dre and A Tribe Called Quest and we do try to listen to the way they used low end. With this record we wanted to try to combine the really great production quality of the ‘70s but also utilise modern techniques and modern technology.”
‘I guess I don’t really analyse too much when I’m creating something,” he muses. “I just create what feels right at the time. But there’s a potential that that might be true because I’m definitely listening to a little bit more hip hop these days.”
Another sign he’s indulging in his urban tendancies of late is the appearance of androgynous soul diva and lady of the moment Janelle Monáe, who sings on two False Priest tracks.
“It was a great thing for me,” he says of meeting Monáe and her band. “Here’s a group of people who are doing something sort of similar, they’re doing something very adventurous and genre-hopping and it never stays still, it’s always moving in different directions, which is something that I can definitely identify with. They also have a very strong connection to funk and soul music so it was great to meet these like-minded, wild artists and to just hang out and exchange ideas.”
‘I’m also a big fan of the duets of Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell, so in a way it’s carrying on that tradition. The first time I heard those I started crying because it was so moving to me.”
Elsewhere, on ‘Sex Karma’, Barnes enlists the vocal stylings of lesser known Knowles sister, Solange.
“I love Solange’s record,” he beams, referring to 2008’s actually quite decent Sol-Angel and the Hadley St. Dreams. “I’ve known her for a couple of years now; Janelle and I were playing a show in Brooklyn and Solange came back stage. Then we started writing together and she came to my studio for two weeks. We both have little children – I have a little girl and she has a five-year-old son – and the two of them had this great puppy love energy. They became best friends!”
Duets with modern divas aside, one of the standout tracks on False Priest is ‘Famine Affair’ – a particularly angry ode to love gone sour. Despite its groovesome beat, Barnes’ distraught croon ("I don’t love you anymore/Go ‘way, go ‘way, go ‘way, go ‘way/You’re a bad thing, a terrible thing...") is almost upsetting to hear.
“It’s sort of a play on ‘Family Affair’ by Sly And The Family Stone,” he explains. “and it’s about a relationship that’s going terribly wrong.”
Barnes split from his wife Nina in 2007, and while they have since gotten back together, the Ohio native’s heartbreak was well documented on of Montreal’s eighth album Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?
“It’s kind of a weird song...” he trails, sounding suddenly bashful. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”
Something he’s more keen to chew the fat about is his new stage show, which Of Montreal will be bringing to Dublin in October.
“We’ve been working for the last couple of months trying to create a really interesting visual experience for people and we’ve expanded our musical line up, too. We’re an eight-piece band now so we’re gonna be able to do a lot of things musically that we weren’t able to in the past.”
‘Basically we want to create a really mad happening,” he enthuses, “a really crazy experience that’s fun and an emotional rollercoaster. It’s not just a dance party, you know, there are darker places as well.”