Forest Swords

Romantically pragmatic or pragmatically romantic, Matthew Barnes of Forest Swords is pretty good at switching on and off when it comes to engaging with the outside world – even when his debut album, Engravings, shook the music industry with its raw, dark energy from the windswept coasts of north-west England. We talked to Forest Swords in the gloomy shadows of an abandoned communist hotel in Krakow about what it means to be an artist in our modern economy and staying true to yourself

Phone interview by Zofia Ciechowska, photos shot by Sevda Albers in Hamburg, Germany

You’ve not packed your bags and headed to London or Brooklyn – why is that?

I like to show people that you don’t have to be in those places to be an artist; you just have to use whatever you have, wherever you are. Just because you move to Brooklyn doesn’t mean your work will necessarily be better. However, it does mean that you will be poorer. I understand it might be a good breeding ground for creativity, but you are a lot more aware of your peers, whereas where I am, I don’t feel like I need to compete with anyone. There’s a lot to be said to being true to where you’re from and taking inspiration from everything around you and not thinking of other places as utopias of creativity. I think my work is purer in that way. It’s important for me to show that if I can do it, then anyone else can.

Is that why you used field recordings from your local surroundings to make Engravings?

It goes back to what I said: you use the energies and textures that surround you as inspiration. You always tend to think that the place where you grew up is shit. I wanted to focus on seeking out the positives of the place that I have known my entire life. I took a lot of inspiration from the biting cold, changing colours and windswept energy of the coast.

Have you ever thought of just packing it all in and living off the grid?

That crosses my mind all the time. My friend is a doctor and he’s signing off so many people due to stress, he says everyone’s fucking exhausted. There’s a collective consciousness of getting tired of modern life. I feel like my life is going at 100 miles per hour, I’m doing all this shit, but I’m not properly living in the moment. And you get to this point and think that if things don’t slow down, the wheels are going to fall off, you know? I think my record was a way of not participating in that. I find it quite romantic to fuck everything off and go somewhere remote. It’s important to be able to press pause, spend time within yourself and understand the peacefulness of being mindful. I try to be mindful myself. It’s very difficult when you live such a fast life because it’s so easy to skip, but I find it has had a noticeable affect on the way I approach things. You attune yourself to a different vibration.

“Turn me into a symbol and sell me to Coca Cola!”

We’re in Eastern Europe and you’re playing at a festival that isn’t sponsored by a major beer brand – is that a conscious decision?

It’s just a coincidence. My viewpoint on big brands is slightly different to other peoples’ because I’m a graphic designer and I’ve worked for those brands. The clash between big brands and the arts is a very touchy subject. Without the support of big brands, a lot of these festivals wouldn’t reach their full potential. As an artist, there is the risk of losing your integrity; you may end up creating work to please these brands and just survive. But because we live in the modern economy that we live in, I think we need these brands for their cash injections.

Why do you think it’s so difficult for artists to live from their art nowadays?

With music there’s a certain romanticism about places like New York City in the ’70s and ’80s when great art movements were apparently created with no money – but I don’t think that was really the case. Nowadays, there’s a disconnect between artists saying that they don’t make enough money and music fans not believing them. Nothing is transparent, nobody will come out to their fans and tell them how much they made in a year. You’d be shocked if they did. The reality is that there’s very little money in music. It forces artists to be creative, but also work part-time and treat music more like a hobby. But I think that to be truly committed as an artist, you shouldn’t be doing it for the money anyway. I still have a day job as a graphic designer. I like it that way because it allows me to appreciate the thing I love most in life. But it’s also a job that I was trained to do, which makes me feel like the schooling I did paid off, which is a problem many face.

Is it fair to condemn artists who have transformed themselves into brands?

I kind of love it when that happens. Kanye West wants to be an architect, I think that’s brilliant because he’s so hungry to create things. He’s completely fucking with people’s perception of what being a rapper is. Part of it is tied in with making money, but the fact that these people want to do that is incredible. I’d love to be able to do that because I’m addicted to making stuff. Would you turn down a big brand if they offered to help you make things you’ve always wanted to make? That’s a tough one. I could sell swords at my shows! Turn me into a symbol and sell me to Coca Cola!

Matthew Barnes unsheathes his Forest Swords at OT301, Amsterdam on 3 April. He’ll be supported by Lemontrip and Truants’  Real Traxx Magick. The show is free for Subbacultcha! members.