It’s safe to say that Mike Rosenberg – aka Passenger – has had one hell of a decade.
After the runaway success of his breakthrough single, Let Her Go – currently sitting at a not-unimpressive total of 2.8 billion YouTube views and 1.2 billion Spotify streams – Mike decamped back to his native Brighton and set about trying to process what the hell had just happened.
His new album, Songs For The Drunk and Broken Hearted, is out in January, so we caught up with Mike to chat about writing and recording the new record; how lockdown life affected his creative process; and the long-term effects of chart success.
Could you talk us through the creative process for the album?
Mike: ‘Fairly classically, a lot of it is a result of a break-up. I’m not the first singer-songwriter to have a purple patch after a break-up; I just think it’s a very vulnerable and fragile time, and I think a lot of things come to the surface as a result of that. From there, a lot of songs seem to flow out.’
‘I went through lockdown on my own, so there were a few songs written in that period as well. I think that this album is a reflection of a very difficult year, both globally and personally. Everyone goes through break-ups, and everyone goes through Coronavirus and Donald Trump – so to have music as an outlet, where I can pour out all of that stuff and hopefully come out with something beautiful that might even be helpful to people who are going through something similar? That’s always been an absolute Godsend.’
Do you just open up the book and pour whatever you’re feeling into your music? Or do you ever filter yourself, particularly with topics that might still be somewhat raw for you?
‘That’s a good question. I never think that a topic can be too raw or personal; I think that’s the point. I think I have always tried to be as honest as possible, even if doesn’t always make for the coolest line in the world.’
‘My favourite artists are all honest. I think in this genre – especially when it’s so lyrically based – I think honesty is a massive part of it. People can see through it if you’re not.’
‘I think that there’s a fine line with songwriting. It wants to be honest; it wants to be personal; and it wants to be bespoke to the writer – but at the same time, it also wants to be relatable. It’s all about trying to find that magic line. That’s why I think Let Her Go got so big: it hit that line perfectly. It was about my breakup, and my situation, but everyone fucking got it. That’s the magic – and as a writer, that’s what you’re always aiming for.’
Are your favourite songwriters those whose works are focused on lyrics, then?
‘I love all sorts of music and I don’t expect every genre to constantly offer up mind-blowing lyrics – it’s not just about that. Songwriter-wise, I’m a massive John Prine fan, as well as Dylan, and Joni Mitchell, and Cat Stevens, and a lot of those older guys. There are some fantastic writers around now, as well; guys like Gregory Alan Isakov and Foy Vance. But as I said, I love all genres of music and I don’t always expect the lyrics to be at the heart of a song.’
Do you believe that songwriting can be learned from scratch? Or must there be an innate talent that the writer can build on and develop from?
‘I think it’s probably like anything. It doesn’t matter how many free kicks I take in my life: I’m never going to be David Beckham. I think there probably has to be like an amount of natural ability, and then it’s just about hard work. I do think that most things in life are, though: you don’t often meet people who are talented and really lazy, and yet still successful. Or the other way around, for that matter. Usually, you need to have both talent and a solid work ethic in abundance.’
And do you think that your experience as a busker informed the way you write songs?
‘I think it influenced me on every level. From a songwriting point of view, it gave me so many stories. It gave me such a rich life experience, what with all the travelling around and playing in town squares all over the world. The characters you come across and the situations you find yourself in… There’s a wealth of material in that.’
‘There’s a reason why people love listening to Leonard Cohen and John Prines – they’ve lived, and you believe them. When they sing something, you’re like ‘fuck, I really believe you’, you know? I think in this genre it’s really important to go out and live a real life before you try to sing about that.’
‘But from a performance point of view, busking was invaluable as well. I’ve always said that if you can gather a crowd of people who don’t really want to be there, you’re going to be fine. Those people are off to get a sandwich or they’re buying a t-shirt: they never came down to listen to acoustic music. If you can draw those people in, you’ll be able to pull in people at any gig after that where people have actually bought a ticket to come and see some music.’
You must really be missing touring.
‘I toured so much over the last 10 years that there have definitely been times when I’ve been on the road where I haven’t wanted to be. That’s always been really upsetting for me, because you have a few hours before the gig, and it’s sold out with 3 thousand people there, and you’re trying to get yourself up for it.’
‘I just remember 22-year-old Mike and how fucking up for it he would have been. It’s a really sad feeling, but it’s like anything else in life – if you just do it constantly it loses its novelty. It’s knackering, too, there have definitely been times where I just needed to go home to have a rest.’
‘Having this enforced break has let me properly rejuvenate and get some energy back; and now, I cannot tell you how much I miss playing gigs. If I had ever stopped to think about it, I guess it would have been really obvious that I would’ve missed it. It’s such an intrinsic part of who I am now, and I miss that connection.’
I once had a musician say to me that when they tour, they don’t get paid to perform; they get paid to eat crap food and travel too much.
‘That’s the thing. It’s got such a glamour attached to it. Before I did it, I was like “are you kidding? I’d love to go on a tour bus! I’d love to wake up in Bratislava or Bogota or whatever it is…”. The reality is, at times, very different. But bring it on for the rest of my life – it really is all of those things that you think it’s going to be.’
‘You have some amazing moments with some brilliant people, you see parts of the world that you never thought you would, and the playing side of it is wonderful. It’s all of the bullshit that starts to really grate on you – like the travel, or the fact that you have no control over where you’re sleeping, when you’re eating, if you can exercise. That really grinds you down after a while. You definitely always drink too much on the road, too, which never helps at all.’
The second half of the album features acoustic versions of every track, but the track listing for those is inverted compared to the originals in the first half. How do you think this changes the flow of the record?
‘I really liked the idea, and I was like “let’s give it a go and if it doesn’t flow then we won’t do it”. I actually think that some of these songs work particularly well as acoustic songs. London In the Spring – which we end the record with and start the acoustic album with – was originally going to start the normal record and end the acoustic. So, we thought that that would be a good first or last track, and we went from there; and by a happy accident, that inverted tracklisting has a lovely flow to it.’
You enjoyed commercial success on an insane scale with Let Her Go. Was there ever a part of you that was tempted to lean into that success and tailor your writing towards repeating that level of chart success?
‘Firstly, it’s completely ridiculous that Let Her Go happened. I was a busker when I wrote that song. I wrote it in a dressing room in Australia and I played it to something like 60 people that night. It was written in 45 minutes and I didn’t think much of it – I mean, I thought it was a good song, but I never, ever dreamed it could be this.’
‘I liken it to Leicester winning the Premiership in 2016, but times a million. Nobody at the start of that season had said “yeah, I fancy Leicester for this no one”, and Let Her Go came from the same kind of obscurity. It’s as ridiculous as that.’
‘What’s really funny is that until you have a hit, you’re an underdog, and everyone wants you to have a hit. Once you’ve had a hit then you’re a sellout.’
‘The temptation to write with the aim of having another hit is definitely there; and the other funny thing is that if you don’t keep on writing hits, you’re a one-hit-wonder, which has its negative connotations as well. It’s such a minefield. I think early on I was just like “look, I wrote Let Her Go like I’ve written all of my other songs – I’m not about to start getting into the studio with 5 co-writers and changing everything just because this has happened”. If I can do it once, maybe I can do it again. If I can’t, who cares? What a ride. What a thing to tell your grandkids.’
It would be quite strange for your fans to see you going from busking to this mass-produced pop world, too.
‘When you make that change, you definitely run the risk of alienating the people who actually genuinely buy your records and love what you do and understand it unconditionally. So, do you risk losing those people for what’ll probably be a wider and bigger audience, but probably more of a fickle one as well?
‘I’m so proud of what I’ve built, and I love my fans – they’re a great bunch of people. It’s a success on a level that I never thought I would have. I’ve made peace with it now. There’s a song on this new record, ‘Sword from The Stone’ that I think is a banger. As soon as I wrote it, I thought that it had everything it needs to be a successful song. I played it to a lot of people, and I’ve had a great reaction from it.’
‘So yeah, of course, when I write a song like that, I’m like “let’s take it to the radio, and let’s give it a go”. If it works? Fucking brilliant – let’s have fun. If it doesn’t? That’s cool, it’s still a good song. I think with anything in life, if you put too much pressure on it, it’s not a helpful thing. It’s not going to improve its chances of working. I try to be as philosophical as possible about all that stuff.’
You can’t continually try to replicate your successes – it’s not sustainable.
‘There have definitely been times in my career where I’ve been a bit seduced by the thought of producing a song or an album in a certain way in order to try to replicate Let Her Go. It doesn’t work, and people can see through it. In this genre, I think you have to just be true to yourself, and if you stumble across some big song then that’s great – if you don’t, you don’t.’
‘It’s not about that. You have got to remember why you started writing in the first place and what you want at the end of it all. Do you want to look back on a career and think “I had two or three massive hits; but fuck, I wrote some shit songs”? Or do you want to look back and think “I’m really proud of that body of work – this is something that’s going to live on for people who want it”? I think that’s really important to kind of try and hold on to.
At least you can still do some things during the pandemic. You’re doing a live stream from the Royal Albert Hall – tell us about that.
‘It’s ten songs but, it’s from different spots around the Albert Hall. We’re pre-recording it, which feels like a bit of a kop out, but it’s not just a streamed performance: there’s a bit of voiceover stuff, and a bit of interview stuff. I just thought that I wanted to do something slightly different: because we’ve got the Royal Albert Hall, and it’s such an iconic venue, I want to utilise that whole space. And there was something that worried me about the pressure that comes with putting on a live show like that where people are paying money for it. I just wanted it to be great and I didn’t want to mess it up.’
You must be so excited for everything to get back to normal.
‘Any time I start throwing a strop about it, I just remember that so many musicians are in the same boat. Flipping heck, if this had happened when I was just busking… I didn’t have publishing, or royalties, or any of that stuff to fall back on. It must be so tough for those guys who are just reliant on live music. So anytime I start getting a bit stroppy about it, I’m just like “wind your neck in – you’ve got it alright”.