PETER GABRIEL INTERVIEW - Don't hurry, be happy

Ask him why it has taken 10 years to make his new album, and Peter Gabriel admits he doesn't really know. "The time seems to have evaporated," he says, stroking the straggly white beard that makes him look as if he is auditioning for the part of Gandalf in the next instalment of Lord of the Rings. "I enjoy the process of making music more than being a travelling salesman for it. And when you make a record, you're spewing stuff out. You need to stop and step back from it in order to take stuff in." And that, he explains, makes recording a very laborious process indeed.
The new album, Up, is a characteristically challenging Gabriel record, full of thoughtful songs, complex arrangements and subtle world-music influences via contributions from artists as diverse as Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Peter Green and Youssou N'Dour's band. But the Nusrat collaboration shows how long the album has been in the making: the poor chap has been dead five years.
Gabriel insists he hasn't spent the decade since his last album, Us, sunning himself on a beach. In June he married his partner Meabh: their month-long honeymoon in Sardinia (where Gabriel owns a house) was, he says, "the first time I've had that much time off in years". He further rebuts accusations of slackerdom by pointing out in a normal working day he arrives at his Real World studio complex by midday and seldom leaves before midnight.
So what has he been doing there? Well, when it came to choosing the songs for Up, he claims he had 130 "ideas" from which to select. In addition, there have been various "detours", as he calls them: from composing the music for the Millennium dome show to recording film soundtracks and high-profile collaborations.
Recording began in Dakar, the Senegalese capital, where Gabriel bought a house after befriending N'Dour in the 1980s. Then he transferred to a studio in the French Alps, where he divided his time between recording and learning to snowboard. Next, he took a trip down the Amazon in a floating studio.
As you might expect, Gabriel's modus operandi is less than efficient. "It's a messy, sprawling technique in which you chip away and spiral inwards until you find the centre. But it works for me," he says. He once described the process to George Martin and the former Beatles producer was "appalled" at the wastefulness of it all.
If it were not for pressure from Virgin, Gabriel says, he would probably still be tinkering with the album. Now that it is finished, however, he is sitting in a tiny room in the Real World complex, forced to play the salesman role he so dislikes.
The studio is located in tranquil, rural Wiltshire - tranquil, that is, when the high-speed trains aren't thundering by. "That was a smart idea, building a recording studio next to a railway track," he says as another express clatters past. As the din diminishes, the sound of a trumpet drifts through the window: someone is practising on the lawn.
Real World is used by musicians from all around the globe. Today Icelandic band Sigur Ros are mixing their new album in one studio, Alison Goldfrapp is rehearsing in another and the Cuban group Asere occupy a third. The traffic through the studio informs much of what Gabriel does: many of those who passed through while Up was being made - including the Blind Boys of Alabama, Billy Cobham and the Black Dyke Mills Band - found themselves contributing to the album. "It can be dangerous when people isolate themselves. So many bedroom tapes sound alienated and lonely," he says. "The studio exposes me to so much other music. There are always different musicians in here: it keeps me fresh and open."
Although one of the reasons he quit Genesis in 1975 was to escape the pressures of being in a group, Gabriel has become one of the world's most enthusiastic collaborators. Indeed, he was one of the first western musicians to develop an interest in world music. When he hears something he likes, his immediate reaction is to incorporate it into whatever he is doing. "Collaborations bring air into music and take you places you wouldn't otherwise go. There are advantages to being in a band and advantages to being a solo artist. Collaborations allow you the best of both worlds."
But despite the African and Asian contributions, Up remains largely a rock album. "I'd call it a songwriter's record rather than a world-music album," he says. "Although in the list of musicians and friends I have, there are many people from many cultures who add different moods and rhythms to what I do."
In turn, Gabriel embraces a range of worldwide human rights and environmental issues. His 1980 hit Biko was one of the first western pop songs to tackle apartheid. Twenty years ago he created the Womad festival to raise the profile of world music. In 1988 he joined forces with Sting, Bruce Springsteen and Tracy Chapman to help Amnesty International put together the Human Rights Now! tour, which first brought Youssou N'Dour to an international audience. Four years later he initiated the Witness programme, which aims to provide human-rights activists with video cameras and computers. He has also introduced many world-music artists to a wider audience via his Real World label.
"I think my name is now a double-edged sword," he says. "People are just as likely not to listen to something because of my involvement. You need people like Damon Albarn and 1 Giant Leap to take the music to a younger audience. I think what they're doing is very bold."
His public image suggests someone a little too serious for their own good. He admits he has a tendency to overanalyse. But he is also acutely aware of the importance of spontaneity. "To me, the best music integrates both. You milk the creative energy of performance, but you also have the control and capacity to hone and direct it in the studio."
He is enthusiastic about new technology, which he believes has opened up new vistas in music-making. "The ease with which you can try ideas is fantastic. When I started, music was what you could achieve and generate yourself. I think today it's more about what you can conceive, and that makes the possibilities endless."
He has come a long way since his days in Genesis, when he used to dress up on stage in outrageous costumes. Gabriel has long resisted the pleas of promoters and agents to put the band back together (although there was an impromptu reunion gig at his wedding in June). Recently he went to see a Genesis tribute band in Bristol with his daughters, Melanie and Anna. "The musicians worked really hard to reproduce it as accurately as possible. Some of it seemed naff to me now, some of it had a certain charm and some of it I was surprised still to feel some emotion from," he says.
What did his daughters make of it? "One of them turned to me and said, 'Dad, if you could make a living doing that, then there's hope for us all.'

FROM:

• The Guardian, Thursday 19 September 2002 11.56 BST Nigel Williams 
• WWW.GUARDIAN.CO.UK