Their own worst critics
Rising British band Foals attribute much of their success to being uptight and constantly dissatisfied, writes Tim Jonze
Apast interview with British band Foals contained admissions of teenage problems with authority, wild mood swings and the pressures of fame. And among all that, singer Yannis Philippakis opened up about family therapy, his difficulties dealing with an absent father and his fear of repeating this same cycle of abandonment.
He discussed his inability to get "a proper girlfriend" and ended things by saying that all he really wanted was to settle down, have children and start gardening.
"I regret a lot of the things I said [then]," says Philippakis now. "I was too open. Mainly about my family - bringing people that have no desire to be discussed in public."
And yet, strangely, Foals have spent most of their time since opening up. The evidence is there on their third album, Holy Fire, on which the band head off towards a more organic, nature-infused sound (there are bee and swamplife samples) while Philippakis sings lyrics so personal ("Cause I'm a bad habit/One you cannot shake/And I hope that I change") that they apparently made him cringe. "I got a perverse enjoyment from it," he says. "But I don't know if I'll do it again. It's like shaving bits off yourself, putting your organs on display so people can prod and poke at them."
Foals seem to mean what they say, yet mock it too. Confusing, yet it turns out they are nothing if not a band who thrive on their own contradictions. You only need witness their current surroundings for proof of that: a bunch of pale youths originally hailing from Oxford's po-faced math-rock scene who somehow find themselves drinking beer in shades on a rooftop bar in Los Angeles. To make matters more surreal, on the sun lounger next to us sits former soccer star Gary Lineker, his presence challenging the band to work up the courage to ask for a photograph.