Andy Kershaw
Following the release of his biography, No Off Switch, in which he details his musical adventures, and subsequent personal breakdown, he talks to Olivia Edward about why he doesn’t like the label ‘world music’ and how visiting North Korea is similar to having a hallucinogenic experience.
My grandparents started working in the cotton mills at the age of 12. It was what kids living in Lancashire cotton towns did in the early part of the 20th century. My parents didn’t have to go through that; they escaped through education and became teachers. The most important traits they passed on to me were curiosity and a thirst for knowledge.
My father would have liked me to become a lawyer. In his eyes, that was a pinnacle of achievement and respectability. But the last thing I wanted was a boring, conventional life. I wanted excitement and adventure, and fun, and rock and roll, and girls, and more girls – and everything else a randy 18-year-old rock-and-roll fanatic wants.
Bob Dylan led me into the musical margins. He was a composite. He had soaked up country, rock and roll, folk and the music of the old blues men of the American south. When I started listening to his music around the age of 13 or 14, I wanted to know where he had come from. That led me on to Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Woody Guthrie. It pushed me from
the middle of the road into the more interesting margins. I never came back.
The phrase ‘world music’ is a very blunt instrument. I can see why it’s used in record shops but it isn’t a term in my vocabulary. If I’m playing a rap record that happens to be from Palestine, I’ll say this is a Palestinian rap record. I don’t see any reason to say here’s some world music. It doesn’t pinpoint it. It’s the same with African music. We never talk about European music, so why do we talk about African music? Music that’s made in Algeria bears little resemblance to music made in Angola. They have about as much in common as British music has to Bulgarian music.
When I was given a programme on Radio One, I suddenly had more money than I had ever had before. I realised I didn’t just have to listen to a Cajun music record in north London, I could go and sit in a bar in rural southwest Louisiana and listen to them doing it live. So I did. I’m not an expert or a musicologist, I’m just a music fan who got very, very lucky. At the time, I didn’t know the difference between Congolese guitar music and Zimbabwean guitar music. But I went and found out. And I took the listeners with me on that journey of discovery.
Africa surprised me. The image you get of Africa in the wider world isn’t a happy one. And, like everyone who has never been to Africa before, I was quite frightened of going there. I didn’t think I was going to be eaten by a lion exactly, but I thought it was going to be really difficult. It wasn’t. It was a lot more fun than I was expecting; people weren’t living in constant misery.
My reaction to George W Bush’s ‘axis of evil’ speech was to go to North Korea, Iraq and Iran to find out what these countries were really like. Just as George Bush isn’t a good reflection of the people I know living in the USA, I knew that Saddam Hussein wasn’t a good representation of people in Iraq. Beneath the public image of a country defined by its leader or government there are human beings. It’s always my mission to go and talk to those human beings. And music can be a great starting point.
North Korea is the most absurd place on Earth. At one point, we were taken to a children’s palace where there were 23 eight-year-olds all sitting at grand pianos playing the same piece. Even their head movements were synchronised. It’s like tripping without the ingestion of psychedelic drugs. When you leave, you think, ‘I better go back and have another look just to check that really happened.’ I’ve been back four times.
The world is what drives me forward on a daily basis. I’m fascinated by what’s going to happen next, and whether I’ll be lucky enough to see it. I don’t want a comfortable life. Yes, I feel very lucky to have electricity, running water, food and a nice bed to sleep in, but I’m not money-driven. I don’t crave extravagances, I crave experiences.
It’s a funny feeling finishing a biography. There’s a feeling of: ‘Well, there you are, between those hard covers, that’s life part one. Now, here comes life part two.’ And that’s very exciting. But it’s an ill-defined excitement. I don’t actually know what’s going to happen in part two, but that’s great. That’s a very nice position to be in.
Curriculum vitae
1959 Born in Rochdale, Greater Manchester
1970–78 Attended Hulme Grammar School for Boys
1978–82 Studied politics at the University of Leeds
1980–82 Leeds University Union entertainment secretary
1984 Tour manager for Billy Bragg
1985–2000 BBC Radio One presenter
1985 Co-presenter, Live Aid
1986 Began contributing to programmes on BBC Radio Four
1987 Won Sony Radio Award for Best Specialist Music Programme
1994 Reported on the genocide in Rwanda for BBC Radio Four’s Today programme
2001 Axis of Evil musical tour is broadcast on Radio Three
2011 Started co-hosting Music Planet with Lucy Duran on Radio Three
2011 Published No Off Switch
September 2011
My grandparents started working in the cotton mills at the age of 12. It was what kids living in Lancashire cotton towns did in the early part of the 20th century. My parents didn’t have to go through that; they escaped through education and became teachers. The most important traits they passed on to me were curiosity and a thirst for knowledge.
My father would have liked me to become a lawyer. In his eyes, that was a pinnacle of achievement and respectability. But the last thing I wanted was a boring, conventional life. I wanted excitement and adventure, and fun, and rock and roll, and girls, and more girls – and everything else a randy 18-year-old rock-and-roll fanatic wants.
Bob Dylan led me into the musical margins. He was a composite. He had soaked up country, rock and roll, folk and the music of the old blues men of the American south. When I started listening to his music around the age of 13 or 14, I wanted to know where he had come from. That led me on to Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Woody Guthrie. It pushed me from
the middle of the road into the more interesting margins. I never came back.
The phrase ‘world music’ is a very blunt instrument. I can see why it’s used in record shops but it isn’t a term in my vocabulary. If I’m playing a rap record that happens to be from Palestine, I’ll say this is a Palestinian rap record. I don’t see any reason to say here’s some world music. It doesn’t pinpoint it. It’s the same with African music. We never talk about European music, so why do we talk about African music? Music that’s made in Algeria bears little resemblance to music made in Angola. They have about as much in common as British music has to Bulgarian music.
When I was given a programme on Radio One, I suddenly had more money than I had ever had before. I realised I didn’t just have to listen to a Cajun music record in north London, I could go and sit in a bar in rural southwest Louisiana and listen to them doing it live. So I did. I’m not an expert or a musicologist, I’m just a music fan who got very, very lucky. At the time, I didn’t know the difference between Congolese guitar music and Zimbabwean guitar music. But I went and found out. And I took the listeners with me on that journey of discovery.
Africa surprised me. The image you get of Africa in the wider world isn’t a happy one. And, like everyone who has never been to Africa before, I was quite frightened of going there. I didn’t think I was going to be eaten by a lion exactly, but I thought it was going to be really difficult. It wasn’t. It was a lot more fun than I was expecting; people weren’t living in constant misery.
My reaction to George W Bush’s ‘axis of evil’ speech was to go to North Korea, Iraq and Iran to find out what these countries were really like. Just as George Bush isn’t a good reflection of the people I know living in the USA, I knew that Saddam Hussein wasn’t a good representation of people in Iraq. Beneath the public image of a country defined by its leader or government there are human beings. It’s always my mission to go and talk to those human beings. And music can be a great starting point.
North Korea is the most absurd place on Earth. At one point, we were taken to a children’s palace where there were 23 eight-year-olds all sitting at grand pianos playing the same piece. Even their head movements were synchronised. It’s like tripping without the ingestion of psychedelic drugs. When you leave, you think, ‘I better go back and have another look just to check that really happened.’ I’ve been back four times.
The world is what drives me forward on a daily basis. I’m fascinated by what’s going to happen next, and whether I’ll be lucky enough to see it. I don’t want a comfortable life. Yes, I feel very lucky to have electricity, running water, food and a nice bed to sleep in, but I’m not money-driven. I don’t crave extravagances, I crave experiences.
It’s a funny feeling finishing a biography. There’s a feeling of: ‘Well, there you are, between those hard covers, that’s life part one. Now, here comes life part two.’ And that’s very exciting. But it’s an ill-defined excitement. I don’t actually know what’s going to happen in part two, but that’s great. That’s a very nice position to be in.
Curriculum vitae
1959 Born in Rochdale, Greater Manchester
1970–78 Attended Hulme Grammar School for Boys
1978–82 Studied politics at the University of Leeds
1980–82 Leeds University Union entertainment secretary
1984 Tour manager for Billy Bragg
1985–2000 BBC Radio One presenter
1985 Co-presenter, Live Aid
1986 Began contributing to programmes on BBC Radio Four
1987 Won Sony Radio Award for Best Specialist Music Programme
1994 Reported on the genocide in Rwanda for BBC Radio Four’s Today programme
2001 Axis of Evil musical tour is broadcast on Radio Three
2011 Started co-hosting Music Planet with Lucy Duran on Radio Three
2011 Published No Off Switch
September 2011
