Adrian Roye

This is the second installment of two on the song “Josephine” by Adrian Roye, of Adrian Roye and the Exiles. You can read the first post here. Roye was kind enough to do a Skype interview with me earlier this week, which gave us the opportunity to talk about “Josephine,” his band, and some of his musical influences. 

Before we get to the interview, let’s watch and listen to a gripping live performance of “Josephine” from a few months ago.

Now, our Murder Ballad Monday interview with Adrian Roye.

MBM: Tell me about Adrian Roye and the Exiles.

AR: We’ve been together now for about 4 or 5 years as a band, and we started as two sets of school friends. I went to school with Beth [Dariti]. She’s a singer-songwriter, and plays bass, guitar, and mandolin. We were music geeks; kind of band-camp kids. So, we weren’t the coolest kids!

When I left school, I joined a rock band for a year or two, which was fun. But I eventually left that band, and started making my own music. At that time, I didn’t play guitar. I played piano. Beth started playing with me. Then I met Dan [Paton] while I was working as a temp, and I found out he played drums. A year or so after we met, I started thinking about what I wanted to do next. Dan introduced me to Simon [Lewis].

I never intended originally to be a band again after the first experience. My intention this time around was to do a solo project. In the first band it was hard to tell the stories how I wanted. It’s hard to do that with multiple voices. But (quite contrary to my original reservations), we fell together blissfully as a band.

Adrian Roye and the Exiles Simon Lewis, Beth Dariti, Adrian Roye, Dan Paton

Our first recording was Telephones and Traffic Lights. It’s funny, because “Josephine” sits somewhat separately from the band–because it’s just me. But audience response to “Josephine” was so strong that it had to be on that record. It sits in the middle like a sore thumb. It gives a nice break; a nice point of contrast.

MBM: How did “Josephine” come to be? Tell me about when you wrote it.

AR: It’s the song I’m proudest of writing–“Josephine.” I’ve always been fascinated with the darker side of things. I always said to myself that I’d love to be able to write a story about a character like that in the first person, but I don’t want to force the story just to come out for the sake of it. I was sitting in a friend’s flat, playing guitar by the radiator, and the melody just came to me. It was like I was kind of possessed. My friends were talking to me for 5 minutes, and I wasn’t paying attention. I was just immersed in the melody.

Almost the entire story, the protagonist, and the character Josephine came into my head at once. I said “I’m going home now.” I went home and I wrote the whole song in one evening. I could imagine the whole scene. I could smell the room. Everything felt so pure. Everything just sort of came to me. It’s actually one of easiest songs I’ve written, but it’s probably the song I’m proudest of writing.

Screencap of Galen Wainwright’s official drawing version of “Josephine”

MBM: How did it feel to inhabit the role of the villain in writing it?

AR: It was actually quite disturbing. I felt possessed. I didn’t like this character at all. At the same time, you start to understand his insanity. He’s drawn to insanity by his love and possession of Josephine. He sees things very differently than other people might see it–How dare she be elsewhere or not be what he expects her to be?

I think he’s a very disturbed character; very complex. I don’t think it helps to say that he’s just an abusive person. When I’m performing the song, and when I’m inside the song, I start exploring the character and his background. If I was to go into it, “Josephine” would be about an hour long. I’d love to explore the story more.

MBM: How do audience members react to the song? Do you remember any particular reactions?

AR: It’s been different so many times. Most times it shocks them a bit, especially because you don’t necessarily know where the story is going. There’s a twist in the story. When I play it live I have to be very careful. I have to be careful about what comes before and after. It can disturb audiences, but in a good way.

Obviously, they know I’m not an abusive murderer, but people ask me if it was a real story. One person asked if it was about me. I think I’d be in prison if it were. [laughter]

Dolly Parton

I was once asked to perform it for a dance workshop; a workshop based on the experience of women who had been abused in relationships. It opened up the song so much more because it’s such a raw piece. So, it’s interesting how they used the piece to explore this domestic violence theme. It was quite difficult for me to play it for them. Because it’s from the perspective of the abuser, does this mean that I’m happy? The workshop leaders seemed to feel that if they could show the side of the abuser, it could help. The piece was beautiful, but it was very raw and really heightened the moments of violence.

Having somebody else’s art reflect mine is very powerful.

I love horror movies; I’m drawn to the darker, hidden places on this planet. People wonder if something’s wrong with you. It’s the sad songs that make me happy. I love the artists that use the juxtaposition of beautiful music and dark lyrics in songs. I grew up listening to Dolly Parton—you have the darkest lyrics with the most beautiful tune. You draw something in with something that’s so bright, but then you catch things at a different level. When you find a song you’ve juxtaposed like this, the story opens up a lot more. It doesn’t always work, but when it does, it’s quite effective.

MBM: Can you give me an example of a Dolly Parton song like this?

AR: “Gypsy, Joe and Me.” I used to listen to it on a cassette tape that my sister had. The characters in this song have no money–they’re poor , and they have nothing. Her dog dies. Her man dies. At the end, it’s just her, and she’s standing on the bridge ready to jump. It’s a lovely bright song—“tonight we’ll be together again.” It’s just that brilliant. It’s more impacting. The delivery makes you really understand. She has nothing. All she has is these people, and then they’re gone.

Lyrics

MBM: As I listen to “Josephine” and read the lyrics, two endings appear available—he kills her, or she kills him. The more I listen, the more second seems likely. What difference would it have made to you to have the first reading be the only one?

AR: The reversal is essential to the song. For me, yes, it is. What you kind of get from the story is his side. From his perspective, she’s going off and getting her kicks with every other guy around. They were married very young. It wasn’t necessarily her choice to be in this relationship. He’s been very controlling. In the end, this is her control. It’s her survival.

For me, Josephine is more than just this kind of “waify,” frail victim. She’s more than that. If it were an hour-long story, I could get into that more deeply. She’s been abused for so long. She’s had enough. She’s going to fight back. In doing what she’s done, is she a monster or is she the victor? Where does that place her?

It’s always in these cases, you have this discussion. Is it ever right to kill? Is it justified? Could you seek help elsewhere. You get the idea—“there is no time for help.” You have to make that decision. Everybody else will have their opinions, but you just have to make the choice.

You don’t really know how it ends. You’ve got the line between right and wrong, good and evil. It ends right on that border. I like the audience to feel that they could have a good discussion about that. If my songs can open a discussion and a dialogue about these things, that’s terrific.

MBM: You mentioned before that you had to be careful about the songs you play before and after “Josephine.”

Before the song is not such a big issue. It’s mostly after. Because you can easily go into “Josephine” without being belligerent. After “Josephine,” I usually go into a song called “Pebbles and Stones.” It’s about two warring nations, but I put it together about a domestic dispute, or a couple of neighbors. It’s similar, but done in a somewhat sardonic way. “Pebbles and Stones” is inspired in part by a song from The Beautiful South called “I Need a Little Time.” It’s not an upbeat song, but it’s kind of a brighter song.

I’ve not really covered murder ballad territory again. I do have another song about a girl who dies on her way to work, and doesn’t realize it. It’s called “The Quietest Day.” It’s told in first person. I don’t play it very often, and I haven’t played it for a while. I haven’t recorded it, either. That character doesn’t quite feel ready. With “Josephine,” it’s easier.

There’s another song. It’s not a murder ballad, but it is a character song. I really enjoy writing as characters. It’s called “The Only Poster Child.” It’s kind of a folk-calypso piece—kind of in the vein of Harry Belafonte. The main character is kind of what some would call “chav” here [in the U.K.]. At every opportunity, he’s turned down. The song asks, “When are you going to pay attention to this boy?”.

We recorded the album a couple years ago. So, I’ve been writing a lot since then. In my writing, I’ve been writing about our local high streets. A lot of our shops have closed down, and people don’t know each other.

I have one piece I perform live called “The Family Jewel.” It’s about a family that has a local business that’s being forced out by their Local Council in favor of a big shopping center. A kind of deception took place. The Council wants to make lots of money, and then robs the community of its identity. So then nobody goes anywhere, because nobody needs to go anywhere. There are different pieces I’ve been writing that discusses that idea of local identity, local community.

MBM: What are some of your favorite murder ballads?

AR: I mentioned Harry Belafonte before. His rendition of “Lord Randall” is a favorite. It’s amazing. In the story, the protagonist goes home to his mother, who is concerned about his well-being. It becomes clear that he’s gone home to die.

Listen to “Lord Randall” by Harry Belafonte here. See Maureen’s introductory post for “Lord Randall” on Murder Ballad Monday here.

Another song, originally by Hüsker Dü, is “Diane.” A British band called Gravenhurst covered it. It’s quite a harsh one. The original version is kind of punky. I really like Gravenhurst’s delivery of the song because it’s very deadpan. You get the idea that this guy is just going to go out and ruin someone’s day. [Listen to “Diane” below, ed.]

MBM: Thanks, Adrian, for sharing your time and thoughts about “Josephine” and the art of the murder ballad.

Lyrics

That’s it for this week. Thanks for reading, and again special thanks to Adrian Roye for his time and thoughts. We’ll be back next week with a new tune, or maybe an old one.