[dropcap]J[/dropcap]oe Mount’s brow furrows as he pauses to weigh up his words. A sincere and introspective interviewee, his cautiously constructed answers seem a little at odds with the haphazard nature of our meeting. The lead singer of English band Metronomy is sitting cross-legged on my rather manky and aged raincoat behind a row of meticulously kept camper vans – while his manager frets from afar at the lack of free media tents. His rain coat, an 80s-esque sports jacket, was too beautiful to be sacrificed to the Stradbally mud, while mine could only gain in credibility from such an intimate acquaintance with Joe’s buttock. Thus, after much clumsy shuffling, awkward laughter and fervent insistences, Mount is perched upon the now infamous mac while I sit smugly opposite. Our fifteen minutes of analysing fame has begun. 

Metronomy’s musical trajectory has been far from predictable. In many ways the association with a metronome is laughable given that both the band’s sound and membership have been anything but steadfast. Their initial output was 2006’s Pip Paine, an album which exudes a manic energy and frantic charm. As a debut, it’s easy to identify its key influences, yet it still managed to carve its own niche in the ever-expanding genre of dance electronica. With sharp rhythmic loops, strong percussion, synths and bleeps, it’s a far cry from The English Rivera, the latest electro-pop album which brought Mount’s music to the masses. Along the way there was Nights Out, a concept album which parodied night club culture and demonstrated a newfound talent for witty and perceptive lyrics, as exhibited on songs such as Heartbreaker and On Dancefloors.

Yet to the naked ear, there’s little clue that the three distinct records are actually the work of one highly imaginative musical mogul. It’s a tricky situation to be in. If an artist fails to push their limits they’re branded as “banal” and “boring”, but if they veer too far from the initial sound they’re “directionless” and “confused”. Surely the hypocrisy of the music industry must grate at him, no? Apparently not. To Mount such charges are simply the product of ignorance of the creative process – ‘‘For me, I hear all the ideas between the albums, there’s like a route that it’s all going down, but for everyone else there’s just these kind of points where there’s a record so the difference is a bit more stark.’’ Indeed, the furthest he’ll go towards rebuking the criticism is to brand sites like Pitchfork ‘‘ridiculous’’ and accuse them of having little understanding of how difficult it is for small bands in the current musical climate.

The struggle for recognition and reward in today’s industry is a subject close to Mount’s heart. After a hectic year of touring The English Riviera he appears pretty shook. As well as being the most accessible Metronomy album to date, the record has also received the most critical acclaim and was deservedly nominated for the 2011 Mercury Prize. Crucially, it was also the first of their albums to be formally released in the US. In fact, its universally likeable pop hooks and catchy lyrics gained them the opportunity to support Coldplay on the band’s North American tour. A rather unlikely pairing but a necessary step Mount elucidates candidly. ‘‘I kinda hate Coldplay… there are a million bands I’d rather be asked to support … I said never in England but in America I think it would be harder to justify not doing it.’’ Indeed, this quest for a broader audience leads him to proclaim, with a hint of an impish grin, that he’d rather support Mumford and Sons than Hot Chip as the former’s fan base ‘‘definitely haven’t heard of us’’.

It’s clear Metronomy are very driven and determined to capitalise on this new success – words such as “legacy” and phrases such as the “whole package” routinely dot the conversation – and while at times these are used in a jocular sense there is little doubting the underlying commitment to the band. Mount is clearly appreciative of the increased attention, but it really is the music which motivates him. Quite simply, ‘‘Even if the records weren’t getting released, because I love learning about music, I’d still be doing it.’’

Frequently he appears genuinely overwhelmed by the band’s current status and seems slightly unsure as to what to make of all the newfound exposure. For instance, with respect to the past year of insane touring, he begins by describing it as something akin to an obligation: ‘‘A lot of things you have to do nowadays that you probably didn’t have to do in the 70s and 80s, if more people bought records it really wouldn’t be a problem … ’’ Yet after a moment’s reflection, he checks himself and argues that at times it really was ‘‘exhilarating’’. Upon further consideration he admits it’s actually very hard to articulate a fixed opinion, purely because ‘‘I guess I never really imagined it would be such a big part of my life.’’ Similarly, when the topic turns to the iconic lightbulb live shows Mount explained that what was initially a “thrown-together” aesthetic became habitual because “if we had suddenly got rid of them it would seem like we were making this bid for stardom … to try and be nice to the older fans we’d keep it as it was.’’ 

But he then counters that really they can’t use them any more as to keep things the “same as they’ve always been … is a bit depressing’’. Hesitancy and fluctuation in judgement are a running theme of the interview. It’s telling that Mount began his career as a drummer, shying away from the limelight to concentrate instead on the beat. Although incredibly warm, it would be hard to describe him as extroverted – or naturally disposed to self-analysis with strangers in caravan parks. 

Yet, for all the thoughtful pauses, corrections and clarifications, whenever the topic returns to the songs Mount talks confidently and definitively. ‘‘The music that I like – it surprises me, the era of music I like especially is when people are trying things out and going a bit crazy and I kind of feel there’s not a great deal of that happening these days.’’ His early years were spent immersed in the music of The Beatles, Led Zeppelin and The Beach Boys, and he is at pains to emphasise how important it is to be constantly learning about music and pushing the boundaries. Mount shouldn’t be worried; even to the casual observer Metronomy’s best-known attribute is their chameleon like ability to transcend constrictive labelling. It’s why nobody questions the use of a string quartet on The English Riviera – just six years after Danger Song helped to define the “angry computer” electronica age.

So with the studio booked for recording in November what can the world expect from Metronomy? With a little chuckle Mount leans forward and declares “I think you can afford to be a little bit out there on the fourth album, so I think a sprawling, psychedelic mess is what’s planned.’’ Clearly enthused by the subject he continues “I need to start taking drugs really to get into that zone. Acid. Things like that. Yeah!” He grins, trails off and begins an attempt to raise himself off the raincoat into a standing position. Yet, in a rather comical turn, mid-movement he stops, slumps down again and hurriedly states a timely reminder for the cool kids of today: “I’m not really going to do that though . . . and no one else should . . . It’s very dangerous.”