Maxïmo Park talk ‘Stream Of Life’, ageing, and navigating 20 years in music

On September 27, Maxïmo Park released their eighth and most introspective album to date in the form of Stream Of Life. Brimming with hooks, melodies, and frontman Paul Smith’s typically incisive lyrics, it’s a record that explores both the profundity and the banality of the human condition. Headlinerrecently caught up with the man himself for an insightful and thoughtful conversation about everything from ageing and parenthood to songwriting and the ways in which the band has navigated 20 years in music…

You can listen to an extended version of this interview here or read on below.

Thanks very much for joining us, Paul. How are you and whereabouts are you joining us from?

I’m glad to be here. I’m in my attic room in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. It’s a grey day outside but a lovely day to do a podcast.

How do you find this period in the run up to release of the album?

It’s exciting and a bit nerve-wracking. You’ve been waiting for ages for it to come out. We finished recording it at the end of March and then took a little time to mix and master it, especially as we did most of it in Atlanta, Georgia. So, it took a bit longer to finish. You want it out but you’re also a bit nervous about what people might make of it But I’m desperate for people to hear it, although you want to be balanced and not too desperate [laughs]. If you’re happy with the record that makes everything a little bit easier.

We’ve put out seven records before this and with each one you feel the same excitement. We’ve always been on an independent label, so it can be a bit more difficult for us to get it out. We can’t be buying billboards! Obviously that’s a thing of the past – I’m showing ny age [laughs]. But you can’t interrupt too many algorithms. We’re not singing about our espressos and getting into people’s algorithms – even though I like that song, by the way!

Tell us about the origins of this album. Lyrically it feels quite introspective.

You’re exactly right. The lyrics on the record are the most introspective they’ve ever been Not negative by any means, but there is a bleakness and a melancholy, which has always been there. That’s just part of life, especially if you’re writing from the heart.

The emotionally driven stuff we’ve been doing over the past 20-odd years is a consistent thread in our music. This self-analytical thing that hopefully extends outwards and has those universal aspects of everyday life and things that people go through. You want to see which of your self-reflective moments are more likely to interest people than others. A lot of my favourite songwriters have that personal aspect, and you’re never quite sure if they’re telling a story or not but it feels genuine.

And it’s also about getting older. I’m in the middle of my life, if I live to 80-odd, and as you get on in life you realise that nobody knows anything. I don’t know anything. But I’m trying. You have more wisdom than you did when you were younger. I look back at my younger self and can’t understand some of the decisions I made, but on reflection, that’s just me. Different facets of your character come out at different times; different experiences make you look at yourself in a different way.

The last album was definitely about being a parent and lyrically trying to find the bits about being a parent that are relevant to everybody. And you don’t even have to be a parent - there are little stories and emotions that hopefully anyone will be able to appreciate. And this album is another step on in my life.

My daughter is eight now and you’re constantly assessing if you are the right person for the job! Wondering if what you’re saying is correct or not. It’s not just yourself that you’re lying to now! You might want to soften some of the situations they might face and be there to support them. That could be in the form of a little white lie or not telling the entire truth. And then when you do tell the truth you might put your foot in it or not tell it in the right way. I’m fascinated by the little lies that people tell each other on a daily basis so society functions. You sometimes feel overwhelmed by the world, like you can’t express how you feel because it would bring everybody down, so you present a different face to the world. That’s life [smiles].

Do you still feel the same excitement and enthusiasm when going in to make an album 20 years and seven albums on from your debut?

With each record it’s a little bit different. With this one we hadn’t recorded in a proper recording studio for about seven years. The last album we did was done remotely. It was an odd way to make a record, and I’m so glad we made it. It doesn’t sound like it wasn’t made in a studio. But it was a real buzz to be back in a studio and making something from scratch.

When we first started out, we didn’t know anyone was going to listen to us apart from the poor people in front of us in the pub [laughs]. But we got there in the end, and I want to cling on to that. But I don’t want to do it just because I have to earn a living. I want to cling on to it because it’s precious. Making music is precious; it should be fun and spontaneous and loose. We want to rally against cliches but still make pop songs. That’s a mission were on. We want it to reach people – I’m not making Avant Garde music hoping that someone might like it when we’re dead. I like a lot of that music, but our own mission is to write pop songs and we want people to hear it and like it.

Having emerged before the streaming boom, have you had to significantly change the way you operate to navigate the industry as it is today?

We’ve definitely adapted but it comes from an organic place. When we were about to put our first album out people would be like, ‘what are you supporting this band or that band for’? But we needed to get to show people what we can do live. We’re a live band, it’s a fundamental aspect of who we are. We play live in a room on most of the records to get that energy across. We wouldn’t just do anything to be seen, but we would take advantage of moments that gave us the chance to shine.

You know, there are people like Steve Albini who said a lot of things that ring true with me. He was very perceptive in his observations on how bands should go about things, and yet, I also think, well, we’re making pop music, and I want to be part of the conversation. I want to get out there. Now, if you want to get your music out there you have the technology to do so, and you can do it in your own way. And if it’s not done in your own way people will smell it. Following your instincts is the only authentic way you can do it. The industry is a game, and if you can play it without compromising yourself then do it.

A lot of the bands you emerged with back in the early-mid-‘00s have not been able to achieve the same consistency in output and performance as Maxïmo Park. Why do you think you’ve been able to keep writing and releasing music over the past two decades when so many others have either faded or imploded?

I’ve never been on holiday [laughs]. One of the reasons is we’ve always done what we wanted. When we signed to Warp Records they said, ‘do what you want, we trust you’. There were other labels that said, ‘hey, we have some ideas about how Apply Some Pressure might end’. And we always thought, why are you interested in our band if you want to manipulate the art of what we’re doing? Having control over everything has been one of the factors in still loving music and not being jaded by it.

A sub stratum of that is having our own solo records and pleasing ourselves, going and playing to 100 people and having faith in that music, too. Last year, I made a folk record with my friend Rachel Unthank and put it out myself. That took a lot of time and energy and I’m really proud of it. There has been a number of points where we’ve had internal crises but we’ve kept it in-house. We are private people, and we want to continue to be disciplined. There is a work ethic in what we do. Life is short and I just want to get as much done as possible. Plus, we enjoy each other’s company. And we’re all aware of how lucky we are to do what we do.