Jared Followill of Kings of Leon is hot – not only is his sex undeniably on fire, but he's sweating in the Texas sun. He
tells
TONY CLAYTON-LEAwhat it was like to be the son of a preacher man and how, with their fifth album imminent,
the band still have it going on
KINGS OF LEON bass player Jared Followill is speaking from Texas, and it goes without saying (yet say it we will, if only for the benefit of female and gay male readers) that he is hot. “Actually,” imparts Jared, “make that burning.”
Welcome to the devilishly warm world of Kings of Leon, the American band that has journeyed from being raised on a diet of old-time standards and gospel music to globe-straddling success. Not bad for a band that was formed in the aftermath of their parents’ divorce, the name chosen as a tribute to their father, Leon. Because they travelled from town to town, the family didn’t own a house, but lived instead in a small camper van.
Sometimes the Followills would stay in a town for a few months, depending on how Leon’s preaching was going down; other times they’d travel on after a few days. Whatever the reception, whatever the duration of their visit, following the hellfire and brimstone would come the dancing and singing. Cue the makings of an empathetic group of musicians.
What has also subtly changed is the band's music. While no one could rightly place them alongside progressive experimentalists such as Radiohead, their undemanding, grit-free rock (equal measures Lynyrd Skynyrd, Creedence Clearwater Revival, spit'n'polish and skinny jeans) is undoubtedly a recipe for power-to-the-people foot-tapping. And they have more of the same coming out next week in the shape of Come Around Sundown.
Two years ago, with the release of Only by the Night,the band was at the tipping point of their career. That album and the likes of songs such as Use Somebody, Revelry, Closer, Notionand Sex on Firebrought them ever closer to arena dwellers. How on Earth could they match it?
"It was pretty easy," says Jared with as much nonchalance as a man in the Texas heat can muster. "The main thing we had to do was to put the last album out of our minds. Every record we'd made previously, we didn't have to think about any of the previous ones; we'd just gone into the studio and tried to make the best possible record. So that was the main challenge for us, to think of Come Around Sundownas any other record.
"It was tough not to think about Only by the Night, though. We were just really happy that the new songs coming out were ones that we liked and were proud of. So that made it easier. If we had had any kind of writers' block we would have probably gone into panic mode, but it worked out that we liked everything we were doing."
Apparently, the band went with the flow – no talking, no strategising, no waffling, just straight into their rehearsal space and jamming until constructive ideas for songs arose. In many ways, such an unforced work ethic refers back precisely to their early background as down-home music makers. Does it seem such a long time ago when they first started out? So much has changed for the band over the past 10 years.
“It seems like a completely different lifetime,” says Jared, “and I have to struggle to remember back to when we first started – and that was just less than 10 years ago. Also, going from the age I was then, 15, to 23 is a big change for anybody, but especially so when you’re doing the stuff we were doing, going to the places we were going. All that makes it pretty difficult to remember the smaller details.
“What have been my biggest changes, personally? Whoa, basically everything. At 15 you think you’re an adult, and you’re close to being one, but ultimately you’re not. Now, being 23, I realise I’m close to done growing as a person, but I recall that just learning how to be a man on the road was something I had to deal with. What was that like? It was great. I didn’t mind it at all. We learned everything – we became cultured, we became smarter in a lot of ways. We became better people, better musicians, better songwriters. When you are in that situation you’re forced to change and get better because you’re playing shows every day, pretty much.”
What would the 15-year-old Jared think of the 23-year-old Jared? “He’d probably be so excited, just seeing where he went to in the space of eight years. I mean, I don’t think anyone expected what we got, especially us. We always thought we’d be like an underground kind of band that would not sell a huge amount of records. I remember when our first album came out, we thought it would be amazing if it sold 10,000, because that would be 10,000 people in the world who listened to us. So, yes, 15-year-old Jared would be excited, and maybe a little bit antsy if he realised that for a period of time in the early days he’d just be travelling in a smelly van playing in front of 13 people for most nights.”
Kings of Leon are that very rare thing: a band that has become exponentially more successful with each album release. These days that is virtually unheard of. While contemporaries The Strokes, for example, are looking more and more like one-hit wonders as the years and band members’ solo albums pass, Kings of Leon stride purposefully ahead.
How do these popular times compare to the days when you had little more than a dozen in the audience?
“There are things that are better and worse, with, say, 90 per cent of things being better,” reasons Jared. “When we first started off we were in a van touring around, loading our gear into the venues, playing in front of very few people. The exception was the UK and Ireland, where we’d play to sold-out crowds of about 500 people. In America, as I said, we’d be playing to literally 13 people. In fact, in Birmingham, Alabama, we played in front of an audience of seven. And on top of that we were staying in motels, with Matthew and myself rooming together. Sounds greasy, I know, but it was so much fun. We were all new to it, we were so fresh.”
Latterly, admits Jared, the perks are much better: they have easier means of travel and transport, they stay in nicer places, and he and Matthew have separate rooms. The shows, too, are different, although there is a yearning for eyeball-to-eyeball contact.
“That’s a special feeling, really. I liked playing in clubs and having people a foot away from me, and being able to hear every single thing I did and not have to rely on a sound guy. It was the energy of it all, and finishing the night by putting my bass in the case, wrapping up the cables, and then being able to stay in the bar we played and drink with the people that just watched us on stage. I genuinely miss that.”
Jared also misses the general air of anonymity that comes with being a member of just another band. The main downside to success, he reveals, is that he has to be extremely careful about what he says to not just the media but also to casual passers-by or liggers backstage.
We’d accuse him of being a fan of conspiracy theories if we didn’t know that some people are always eager to find the negative in even the most innocuous subject matter. “There comes a point where you feel you can’t win for losing. That’s the worst – there is a certain amount of people who desire, who want you to fail, and they will look for anything they can and blow things out of proportion. The good things counterbalance all of that, though, so you can’t really complain.”
Not complaining, getting on with it, turning the other cheek. It seems his early life touring around with his preacher father has earned him a sense of humility, which seems a good characteristic to have in a band so hugely popular.
“With every religion there is a main goal to be a good person, anywhere in the world,” says Jared. “Any type of belief system will tell you that being a good person is what you need to be, and I’ve definitely taken that – if nothing else – from my personal background.”
Come Around Sundownis out on RCA next week, and will be reviewed in next week's Ticket
