by Benji Heywood (@benjiheywood.bsky.social)
It was just another typical day when the daughter of Barry Burns, guitarist/pianist/composer in the band Mogwai, fell. Happens all the time to toddlers. At first no one thought anything of it, but later, Burns and his wife were concerned that the bruising seemed disproportionately large in comparison to the severity of the fall. That night they checked on her as she slept and discovered blood on her pillow. Her gums were bleeding. Shaken, they rushed her to the hospital.
What was unfolding seemed like a cruel juxtaposition. Mogwai was coming off an unlikely success with 2021’s As the Love Continues, their first UK #1 album after three decades pioneering experimental post-rock pioneers. But as Burns can now attest, no amount of artistic success matters when trauma strikes. Around the time the Glasgow band was winning awards, Burns’ daughter was diagnosed with aplastic anemia, a rare and serious condition that occurs when the bone marrow doesn't produce enough blood cells.
“I was really worried (about the diagnosis),” Burns recalls, “As a kid my neighbor had aplastic anemia and she died.”
His daughter spent the next two years in treatment. A fortuitous bone marrow transplant plus several blood transfusions and chemotherapy treatments later and today, Barry’s daughter is well on the road to recovery. But while illness has faded, the trauma of the experience has not.
It’s against this background that Mogwai is releasing The Bad Fire, the band’s exuberant and raucous eleventh album. Post-Trash sat down with Burns and discussed creating art in times of trauma, Mogwai’s early years, why he doesn’t care about awards, and how not talking about their songs has kept Mogwai fresh for the last 30 years. Here’s our conversation with Barry Burns, edited and condensed for clarity.
Mogwai by Steve Gullick
Post-Trash: So, you’re calling from your rehearsal space?
Barry Burns: This is my studio, actually. But we were just rehearsing next door for our hometown album release.
PT: After 30 years, what’s it like playing Glasgow?
BB: They're always some of the better ones. And Glasgow crowds are not as notorious as they used to be. They're actually quite nice. Plus, all the people who come now are CEOs in their 70s and 80s.
PT: (laughs) We’re here, of course, to talk about Mogwai’s new album, The Bad Fire, but I wanted to ask how your daughter is doing. Sorry, there’s no good segue into this.
BB: She’s great, yeah. Her treatment really worked very well, and she's just back to being completely fine.
PT: She had to have a bone marrow transplant?
BB: Yeah, but luckily, they found her a match from a guy in England.
PT: Are you going to be able to meet her donor someday?
BB: Probably. With the NHS here, you're not allowed to meet them until two years have passed, for anonymity reasons and privacy. But yeah, I think we'd like to thank the guy.
PT: What are you going to say?
BB: Thank you (laughs)! Well done for having amazing blood!
PT: Are there any doctors or nurses who helped with her treatment that you want to shout out?
BB: There's so many. The main one, Brenda Gibson, she's just retired, but she was seen as a top expert on blood diseases in kids. So, really grateful to her. But the whole ward, every nurse, every doctor was just amazing. Funnily enough, we even knew the ward’s cleaner from a previous life, was a guy called Nigel who used to serve my wife and I drinks!
PT: Speaking of previous lives, I know Mogwai is having its 30th anniversary, but you came in for the second album, right?
BB: Yeah. November ‘98. I’d played a couple shows with the boys then went with them to upstate New York to (producer) Dave Fridmann’s studio.
PT: Because they needed someone to play keys?
BB: Actually, it was because I could play the flute.
PT: Get out of here.
BB: It’s true! They knew I could play a little piano, but they didn't realize that was my main thing. And they didn't realize I could play the guitar at all. But they knew I could play flute. And now I don't even play the flute, and I mostly play the synthesizer.
PT: You were making the new album while your daughter was going through treatment. That must have been surreal.
BB: The band said, look, don't worry about this. We'll write songs and take on more than we usually do. You do what you have to do. And then after she got the transplant, I basically had two months to write songs. [For the] last album I had a year. So, it did feel a bit rushed, but it felt good, like I could contribute something at least.
PT: Which songs on the album did you write?
BB: The first one— “God Gets You Back”—and the second and third one. Then “Hammer Room” and “Fact Boy.” So, five of them.
PT: I’ve read that your song titles are purposefully meaningless. But a title like “God Gets You Back,” after the experiences you’ve had, makes me think they’re a little more intentional than you let on.
BB: I would love to say that was intentional, but it wasn’t (laughs). It's just something people would say if, like, you hit a kid, then later you tripped and fell, it was like, Ah! “God gets you back!”
PT: And the album title?
BB: I grew up Catholic and the album title The Bad Fire is exactly what my grandmother would say: If you don't eat your dinner, you're going to the bad fire. I was like, really? I'm going to hell because I didn't eat some cauliflower?
PT: Seems extreme (laughs). If Hell is the bad fire, then what’s the good fire?
BB: (laughs) That’s a great point! I want to go to that party!
PT: Another thing I read was that the band takes a “Calvinist approach” to writing songs, meaning you don’t really talk about the songs as a band while you’re writing them.
BB: When I said Calvinist, I was kind of joking (laughs). It was more like we don’t have a deep conceptual chat about our songs. We afford some trust to each other. And when you do that, there's not really much need for talk.
PT: Well, whatever you’re doing it’s working. What was it like to have your first #1 album twenty-something years into your career?
BB: I'm so bah humbug about it. Yeah, I couldn't care less. I was laughing at the photograph (of) when they gave the award to us, and I'm the only person in it not smiling. It’s meaningless back-patting.
PT: Whose validation would mean something to you?
BB: My wife, maybe? My daughters’? My own? If I like it, then I'm happy with it. But I don't give a fuck about anybody else. Not in a Liam Gallagher way (laughs). I just really don't care what other people think, and I don't care that it sold that many records. I'm happy to make a living from it, but I don't need an award. The trophy (we won) is in my toilet, by the way. That's where it lives.
PT: Do you listen to your own records after you’ve finished them? Like, will you gather with your friends and put on the new Mogwai album—
BB: --and smoke a big cigar? (laughs) No. After they’re done, that’s it. Unless I’m needing to reference for a tour, I don’t listen to the records. It’s been years since I’ve listened to a Mogwai record.
PT: What still gets you excited about Mogwai?
BB: I quite like the stress of making a record. Having two weeks to get everything done. But lately, I really like writing the soundtrack stuff and the score work. Again, I just love the pressure to get something done really quickly and not spend much time on it. And I think that's when some of the best ideas come when you don't spend time on it. The first idea is the best idea, which is a dangerous tightrope to walk.
PT: We’re big fans of your score work. I know it was a long time ago, but what do you remember about scoring (the French television show) Les Revenants?
BB: That was a long time ago! Back then our experience was limited. We’d done (art film) Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait and some work with Clint Marshall for (Darren Aronofsky’s) The Fountain. Les Revenants was the first time we were given free rein. They didn't really step on our feet. They just let us get on with it. It's such a nice experience to make music for people that trust you.
PT: Sounds like the experience you share with your bandmates.
BB: Yeah, and I think that extends to when we work with people who make videos for us, artwork or posters or anything like that. We just say, do what you want. And I think artists love that—because I know I do.
PT: Was that how it was with John Congleton (who produced The Bad Fire). Like, here are the songs. Your move, sir.
BB: Pretty much, verbatim, yeah. As soon as we finished the session, we were just like, go and do what you want with us. And he did.
PT: Which song changed the most from when you tracked it to what we hear on the album?
BB: “Hammer Room” changed quite a lot. I remember saying to (Congleton) that I really liked the wonky stuff that he was doing when we were tracking it. And I said, just go crazy with that. When I listened to it back when he gave us the mix, I was like, Oh, you've taken the ball and run with it!
PT: Did he have much to do with “18 Volcanoes?” The way the tune undulates with distortion—it’s like the song itself is percussive.
BB: No, that one is pretty much how we play it live. It’s shoegaze-y and quite fun. Although, it’s got an unusual part that I would never typically play, like a really high-up sort of whistle part. The way I was playing it was quite straight, but I accidentally played something, and (Congleton) was like, do that again! I love it when producers can hear something good when you're just messing around. And then it stayed on the record!
PT: I want to be sensitive to your time. Can you stick around for one more question? It’s a bit more esoteric.
BB: I’m happy to.
PT: Your daughter is healthy now. You’ve made it through the trauma. But is the trauma through with you?
BB: It takes a long time. You get a hangover from trauma. There's all this stress, and you don't know where you are in the world, and you can't concentrate on anything. I had no concentration. It was terrible, because my focus was on my daughter, but also, I was trying to look after the other kids, which I didn't want to neglect. With trauma, there's all these other dominos that fall that people don't really think about. And, yeah, I don't think I'm over it yet. It doesn't show itself every day, but it's there at the back, looming. It looms over you, doesn't it?
The Bad Fire is out now via Temporary Residence LTD and Rock Action. Catch Mogwai on tour.