Finding Kate's Foundations

LET ME introduce you to Kate Nash, a twenty-year-old teenager with a fine line in whimsical pop songs. Are you a nerd? “Yeah. I was a total geek at school.”

 Some geek. Because there’s a conflict between this shy, girl-next-door-with-ideas songwriter and her status as a Brit award winning major label priority act. In person she’s a horrendously polite failed actress with understated beauty; out on The Apollo stage she’s a million-selling musician with a rock star boyfriend who is playing to a packed venue. Who does Kate Nash want to be? Backstage she is surrounded by a gaggle of friends who have come along for the tour. A younger sister darts past while former schoolmates sort out the singer’s hair. Nash’s current beau, Ryan Jarman of The Cribs, bumbles around attempting to make a cup of tea.

“If you don’t have your family and friends involved then they won’t relate to you. Everything goes so fucking fast in this industry, you’ll lose your friends instantly and they’ll be unable to relate to you. It’s scary because I’m in all the papers but it’s important that they know that I’m still the same; otherwise they’ll be freaked out by knowing a famous person.” Yes, the old popstar’s routine about keeping in touch with one’s roots while living a jet set life. But Kate seems to be terrified of that outcome. “I just want my friends to be comfortable because I’ll feel totally uncomfortable without them.”

It’s an understandable fear. Two years after her first gig she’s already a household name. Yet she doesn’t come across as a serious musician. Having twice failed to get into drama school she found herself working in River Island to fill the time. “I was doing loads of exhibitions, cinema, film festivals and gigs by myself so became really independent. It got to the point where I couldn’t face the idea of working in those jobs for another year so I rounded up my songs, booked a gig and realised that I could get by on the thirty quid a week from playing live. I quit my job and although everything happened really quickly, it was quite a gradual build up.” You’re not really supposed to be here, are you? “I didn’t want to be a popstar; that kind of accidentally happened.”

And that’s why she’s so endearing. What on record sounds like forced naïvety translates into a wonderful detachment from the music business. She’s a professional when it comes to interviews (“When something’s doing your head in you’ve still got to talk to outside people ‘cos otherwise they’ll be like ‘Kate Nash is a fucking bitch’.”) but she doesn’t focus on her ‘career’. “I’ve never felt that I had to reach number one in the charts. I’ve got my real fans and I connect with them and that’s all that counts. You’re not always going to have the masses on your side and that doesn’t matter anyway – just look at the people who DO have the masses on their side. Some of them just make really shit music.”

So what keeps the real Kate Nash interested? “You have to have other things going on: I’ve got my own fanzine, I write poetry and spoken word. I’d like to write lots of albums but for me it’s all about the live show; it’s an expression of art, connecting with human beings and exploring that. I would like to act again if it was the right time, especially if it was a David Hare play. ‘The Secret Raptures’ is still one of my favourites but also traditional stuff like Stanivslavski, Peter Brook and Brecht.”

Out in the venue the auditorium is filling up, mainly with teenage girls on their first night out. Homemade T-shirts are everywhere while some try to smuggle in lemons to throw at the appropriate moment during Foundations. They idolise Kate Nash. They dress like Kate Nash. They hang on her words like gospel. “Er, yeah it is weird and I wonder whether I’m prepared for this role. But it’s cool because I’m not some superficial made-up popstar that girls will never be. In magazines that tell you that you should never write notes on your hand or have ladders in your tights. That’s not what I’m like; I’m scatty, outspoken, a feminist, I have rights, I get angry, I have fun, I get drunk, I spit and I swear but I’m also feminine. I wear dresses, I like to look pretty, I do my hair, I wear make-up and I think it’s important to have a role model who’s real.”

It’s some of those qualities that have led to her popping up in the gossip rags: “I don’t read them so it doesn’t bother me. It would upset me if I was in there looking bad because it’s just fucking rude; the people putting me in there probably feel bad about themselves. Those magazines point out people who are fat, who are ugly, who sweat and make others feel bad. Actually, I’m all of those. Pointing things out doesn’t make you feel better. It’s like getting plastic surgery – you’re still going to be sad inside.”

And it’s here that we encounter the limits of her patience. Mentioning her time at the BRIT school, the Arctic Monkeys-derided, state-run arts college that Nash attended with the likes of Katie Melua and Adele, she has had enough. “People who have a go at it are just ignorant pricks because arts in education is so fucking important. Music and theatre keeps fucking kids out of gangs. If someone wants to have a go at it [the BRIT school] then they need a punch in the face because they’re probably just fucking stupid rich pricks. It’s the only free performing arts education in England and it teaches you about community, about human beings and connection. It isn’t you go there to be a famous brat. They don’t talk about being famous or about celebrity; I learnt everything I know about being on stage and confidence from there and it shaped me a human being. I fucking love that school and I’ll defend it to the grave; anyone who wants to say anything shit about it can shut the fuck up.”

She apologises for the outburst but there’s little need; she’s an utterly refreshing popstar. Onstage she acts with just the same mix of charm and edginess. Sure, it’s hardly revolutionary but the critics are missing the point. For the fans in attendance these songs sum up what it is to be a teenager, a thousand camera-phones saluting her movements and preserving the gig for posterity. She might be a record company cash cow but at heart Kate Nash really is still a chancer from Harrow. “I’d much rather be who I am. You’ve got to trust in the people who you respect, your friends and the people who you care for.”