I remember it was like trying to make a record in the Führerbunker. It was that sort of feeling you know - it was very Germanic down there for some reason. Swastikas on the staircase. And also, like all basements, it had never been used for anything. So basically it was a dirt floor and some concrete. If somebody got lost, there'd be a little trail of dust in the darkness... It was a labyrinth, in actual fact. It was a concrete labyrinth, subdivided here and there, and we would go around testing to see which one had the best echo or was the best sound for a particular instrument. That sort of thing.Oh, and next, I have to tell my Keith story. But first, you can read about the 'myth' of Exile in today's Times. Like they have a clue. Or anyone.
But it was also sort of like the netherworld. Upstairs it was fantastic. Like Versailles. The south of France in the summer - la, la, la. Beautiful. Who could ask for anything more? But down there, it was another thing. It was Dante's Inferno... I was living on top of the factory.
It saved the trips to the parties - you just went upstairs! You didn't have to worry about going from the studio and saying, Where are we going to hang now? You went upstairs and there it was - a great French villa, people are passing by, and everybody's jolly. It's a breath of fresh air, to go up and have a drink. It was a weird feeling going up from the basement and into this very beautiful sort of villa. It was a piece of work, that place.
