In the wake of her album, Of Milkmaids and Architects, Martha Tilston shared with Wireless Bollinger her opinions on a few things slightly more musically relevant than milk receptacles or Frank Gehry:

…Defining folk music:

Folk music itself? I could talk for hours, but at the same time I kind of think, in a way, history’s gonna say what folk music is. Part of me thinks that it can be anything. It doesn’t need to be a style, it doesn’t need to be about working in the mines or things, you know, 300 years ago, it’s relevant now. I think that lots of folk songs that we carry on are still played now because they touch on themes that we’re concerned about now. On the same note, I’d say that Hip Hop is the folk music of today, or certainly one type, you know.

I was talking to someone about the nu-folk thing and I asked, “so what do you think about being called nu-folk?” You know what, I think it’s a way of making it sound cool. Five or six years ago when folk was officially uncool, we had to come up with a word for it because people were starting to like it, which meant it was cool so we put ‘n-u’ on the front. Now people are investigating it through Joanna Newsom or whoever and then they go back and look at Sandy Denny and look at Fairport [Convention], and then go even further back… and we don’t use the ‘nu’ bit anymore. You know, it’s kind of condescending. It should just be ‘folk’, it’s people’s music.

…Folk music tradition:

“One of the benefits of growing up around music is that you think it’s normal, which of course it is, actually. Cultures, people are involved in music whether you’re an accountant or a banker or not. I mean people in Malawi tribes aren’t sitting songs out because they’re more of a mathematician, you know what I mean? I went off, I did some trip-hop stuff, I wrote songs the whole way through, it was kind of my diary. I’m kind of glad I didn’t cut my teeth in the folk scene and now I’m crossing over into it, because I think I wouldn’t have experimented enough. I think you have to start to worry about folk purists, do you know what I mean? I think it’s really important to keep some stuff how it was, how it has been, but to the extent of keeping it how it was the way you like it. I mean, if there’s a way of making it more relevant to me, I don’t want to sing something that I don’t want to sing.”

…The beginnings of Martha Tilston:

I started playing at squat parties in London, and at the underground festivals, where no one really knew who my dad was, so I could really find out if the songs worked. I met a few artists. We just met basically, we went to Glastonbury as punters, or we managed to get some cheap or free tickets, and we ended up going to the stage called the Small World Stage, which is solar-powered – a beautiful, beautiful tent. Anyway, we got up on stage, managed to con them into giving us a gig at midnight, and we ended up having a two hour gig and it was lovely.

It was kind of like running away with the circus from then. We’d play at lots of different festivals: not folk ones, more kind of underground ones – almost like a hippie rave, you know, when you figure out where it is in the woods and you all go there by word of mouth. I met a lot of artists through that, and we all realised we weren’t making any money out of it and we thought, well, the best thing is to not try to, cause it’s much more fun!

The nights would just fund themselves. We’d always have cake and candles. Free cake, it’s amazing how many people will come to gigs when they know there’s free cake. We’d just put these lovely nights on. At some point we dressed the stage up like a living room – we always thought the best times to play were when we went back to the hotel rooms and just passed a guitar around – so we put lamps up and flying ducks and sofas on stage, make a little lounge.”

…Becoming Bono:

“I don’t want ever to become a political musician, but I don’t ever want to become apolitical. I don’t think it’s possible to be apolitical. The minute you decide what beer you’re gonna drink, what dress you’re gonna wear, you’re being political. I was told by someone in the folk industry to keep politics out of my music because it’s not good for record sales. It’s like telling at artist, ‘you can’t paint with blue.’ I mean they may not want to paint with blue, sometimes I don’t want to paint with blue, but if I feel like I want to paint with blue I’m not gonna think, ‘Oh, it’s not good for sales.’

I think at this moment, I was reading a lot of stuff about Global Warming, and all this Orwellian-type stuff, and that’s what the ‘Good World’ song is all about, saying we’re going to turn things around, I think, for our kids. They really need to hear that. I’m really worried about our kids, they’ve got this ‘end of the world’ thing. We’ve got to try to turn it around.

It’s not preaching, it’s just asking a question. As a folk musician, you reflect what people are saying, and I think at the moment people are asking these questions, ‘what’s going on? Why is it happening?’ you know? That’s the nature of music, it’s soul stuff that hopefully transcends corporate sponsorship. Even if it means I won’t have my rent, I’m just gonna write what I feel like writing.

I can’t imagine I’d ever do a Bono, I think it’s detrimental, I think you turn people off if you go ‘I am right, you are wrong! I am right you are wrong!’ Also I can’t bear to watch that type of music, you know when you go to a really political gig and you feel all dirty and wrong. I’m no more political than anyone is; I’m just probably not so much concerned about the fall-out. I probably will be, I’ll probably look back and say ‘oh, God I shouldn’t have said that!’ I hope I never do.