White Lies tell the secrets of their success

White Lies talk to Ed Power in advance of their appearance at Indiependence in Co Cork

SEVERAL weeks ago Charles Cave stood in front of 100,000 people, quaking in his fashionable sneakers. On stage at Glastonbury with his band White Lies, there was just one thing on the guitarist’s mind: would he remember the new songs? It was far from a trivial concern.

“In the studio we write by gradually adding to a piece of music, recording bit by bit, replacing parts until we are all happy,” says Cave. “Then we have to book a rehearsal room at vast expense and learn how to play the new stuff. We don’t have much time — usually three days. For that reason, the only moment I get nervous is when playing material for the first time. I’m terrified of blanking out.”

In the event, the London three-piece, whose speciality is a brooding arena-rock, breezed through Glasto. So much so that Cave watched a recording of the performance on his iPad later.

“I almost never watch back,” he says. “You think a show was brilliant. Then, you look at the footage and think ‘Oh dear, maybe that wasn’t as good as I thought’. With Glastonbury, I went ‘That is excellent — I hope it was that good in real life!’”

White Lies have spent the past year on the road, promoting third LP Big TV. Largely written by Cave it’s a concept record about a central European woman seeking a new life in America. At the beginning of the promotional cycle Cave was fretful: would the album be up to the rigours of the longest tour of their career? Twelve months later, he feels he knows the answer.

“It’s the first time my relationship with the record hasn’t changed after playing it live. With our previous ones, there were moments where I would go ‘Oh, I wish I had done this or that differently’. Usually, you get to a point where you think, ‘Oh I don’t like that song anymore’. This time, that hasn’t happened.”

White Lies arrived with a degree of hype in 2009. Furrowed of brow, cathartic of guitar, angular of cheekbone, they were dubbed ‘boy division’ by the press and tipped for imminent hugeness. With early single ‘Fear of Flying’ they made good on the buzz, the accompanying album, To Lose My Life, doing well also. There was a wobble two years later with their album Ritual, generally regarded as an underwhelming facsimile of their debut. However, they stormed back with Big TV, their most eclectic and successful record (it went top five in the UK).

Cave has several side projects. He maintains a second band, KIDS with Swedish singer Rosanna Munter. Last year, meanwhile, he dipped his toes into soundtracks, composing the incidental music for forthcoming independent movie Peterman. This was a new experience — one he wasn’t entirely prepared for.

“I auditioned by submitting several minutes of archetypal film music, which they used for the trailer. Then they said could I do the whole project. After that I heard nothing. I thought it would never happen, put it down to experience. As it transpired it took a year and a half to drum up funds. Then, out of the blue, they got in contact: ‘Right all good, we need the music by such-and-such date’. I was like, ‘Oh fuck… I actually have to write this now’.”

He was under the misapprehension that all he was required to do was record several suites of mood music but he had to write to order: the producers asking he compose a very specific piece for a scene. If what he submitted didn’t square exactly with they had in mind, he had to start over.

“The most satisfying moment was when the director came around and we watched the whole film through. He didn’t say much. After it was finished he turned and said ‘Amazing — great’. I ushered him out, closed the door and thought, ‘I don’t know how I’ve done it… but I’ve blagged that.”

Barring an eleventh hour surprise, White Lies are winding down the present phase of their career. Eight more gigs are scheduled this year, including a headline slot at Indiependence in Co Cork. After that, they plan taking time off before returning to the studio in November. Of course, Cave is sufficiently experienced to understand that, in the music business, life doesn’t always pan out as anticipated.

“It’s fair to say it is coming to a close. Of course, it only takes one email in our inbox saying we’ve been offered seven shows in the Balkans. You think ‘OK we haven’t played there, it’s alright money… I thought we were going to be home, now I’m not’. As matters stand, there are no plans to tour in the autumn or winter. Far from it – we are starting to think about the studio, about mobilising the creative and writing part of our brain. At least that’s the hope.”

Half a decade from their debut LP, White Lies are at the point where many musicians start to experience creeping disillusionment. You make an album, tour it, make another album, tour again… on and on until your label drops you, or you have a huge falling out.

“We don’t go crazy on the road,” says Cave. “That’s helped I think. We like to check out a new restaurant or find a nice craft brew bar. When we go to a new place, we do all the touristy activities. Instead of spending the whole day drinking, we’re up early to do the sights. That’s how you stay sane during a spell of heavy touring.”

White Lies headline Indiependence at Mitchelstown, Co Cork, on Saturday