Music

With the sort of positive thinking that could seriously help out My Chemical Romance, he’s an idealist who holds little stock with the gloom mongers at the Daily Mail who say that today’s youth are coalescing, en masse, into a lawless mob fuelled by binge sex and yob drinking. Sure, drinking, drugs and pulling might be a big part of Jamie’s life, but so has it always been for a demographic that forever gets a raw deal.

Says Treays: ‘When you’re young you don’t sit around thinking: Am I worth something? You make yourself worth something. Young people are always pushing things forward. Look at the beat and hippy generations. At the time everybody thought: Look at those fuck-ups, taking drugs and all that. Now half of them are doctors, solicitors, people who actually shape what’s going on in the world. It’s easy to tag kids, but you don’t know what they’re going to become.’
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Even after the ‘Big Brother’ race row, he’s refusing to believe that the wheels have fallen off the multiculturalism wagon. He acknowledges that London isn’t quite Utopia City, but, confidently states that ‘we’re still one of the most multicultural cities in the world.’ And it’s something he’s used to his advantage, exploring the spread of cultures and music that exists in the capital. Like the rest of today’s web-reared, iPod-listening youth, he’s part of a growing non-tribe into every kind of sound. He’s been into reggae and Afrobeat, the energetic bounce of drum ’n’ bass, punk’s give-a-fuck attitude, hip hop… and on it goes. It manifests itself on his debut in the skanking rhythms, scratchy, full-blooded strumming, ‘real life’ skits and, most notably, his patois-infused vocals.

‘I don’t do it on purpose, it just came with the music I listened to,’ he says. ‘It does make it easier to rhyme certain words, though. Some people say, “You can’t do that”, but I don’t give a shit. I’m not trying to be Jamaican, y’know? Some of my favourite tunes come with that patois thing, like everything on ‘The Harder They Come’. I didn’t even realise I did it until people kept bringing it up. Then I noticed on ‘So Lonely Was The Ballad’ that I go: “Girls singing on the bus/Fellas kicking up a fuss/Crying outside but they’re still looking dangRUSS.” It was like: Ah, now I understand.’

It’s not gone unnoticed by fellow reggae enthusiasts, Clash legend Paul Simonon and Damon Albarn. They invited him to support The Good, The Bad And The Queen last year, after which Albarn took Treays to Mali for what he calls a ‘real eye-opener’. Returning with plenty of
new ideas he’s itching to get writing again, but for now he’s got his debut album to tour and a sold-out gig at the Astoria on Thursday. We, here at Time Out, might prefer the unaccompanied Jamie T solo experience, which allows all his nuances and wit to breath, but this show with his full band, The Selfish Sons, still promises to be a right old knees-up – providing he contains his bowel movements.

‘To be honest, I’m shitting myself. It’s either going to feel really intimate or far too big. I know that people do like me playing solo but you get lonely, especially on bigger stages. Not long ago I was playing 800-capacity venues as a support act and I was finding it hard to shut people up. So I got a band together ’cos I want to dance and run about like an arse.’

With that, he sinks his pint and heads off to meet his bandmates for a rehearsal – he’s already an hour late. Before he goes, though, he promises to give ‘Metro Land’ another go and damns his impatience. ‘It’s been too manic of late,’ he says, ‘I can’t concentrate.’ Life for Jamie T is about to get even more manic, so it could be quite a while before he gets around to it.

‘Panic Prevention’ is released on Virgin on Monday. Massive thanks to the Sir John Soane's Museum , a local treasure which you should definitely visit.