iVillage Entertainment

British singer-songwriter David Gray, 41, broke into the music mainstream after the release of his 2000 album White Ladder, which featured the popular songs "This Year's Love," "Babylon" and "Sail Away." Now, nine years later, Gray is back in the spotlight, on tour for his newest album, Draw the Line. iVillage spoke with the father of two about how his family -- his wife Olivia and daughters Ivy, 6, and Florence, 4 -- deals with him being away on tour, what topic is off-limits at the breakfast table and why he isn't allowed to play his music at home.

I was an emotional mess when my boyfriend went on tour. How does your family handle it?

This is the crux of the matter. No one ever likes their husband, boyfriend or wife to go off on tour. I think you can take that as a given. Anybody who says they're cool with it is a liar. And the two things just aren't particularly compatible -- continued absence, late nights, booze, hotel rooms and exotic travel and someone staying at home with the kids. There's a bit of an issue there, you know? I don't think there's any easy way around it. I've slowed my touring down over the last few years because I wanted to sort of reestablish family life, I guess. I have two very young children. The tour, when they were babies, was even more difficult, because nappies and sh*t is even worse than nagging children. It's a part of life that everyone has to work it out the best way they can.

How do you handle it?

The way I choose to look at it is that some people have to go to sea, some people have to go to war. It's part of my job, and the one thing I'll say is it's a bit like making a clean break when you snap someone's bone. If I am totally clear about having to do it and why, it's easier for everyone else. Whereas if I'm sort of deliberating about it and start to doubt myself, it makes it harder for everyone who's left behind. Because then I'm miserable and they're upset and they're miserable because I'm not there. Well, what's the point of that? While I'm on tour, I can't see how you can merge the two worlds together. Although I'm going to bring my kids out with me a little bit next year. That's the tough part. People always ask you, "Hey how do you balance things in your life?" Balance? There isn't any. I'm either there or I'm not. And even when I'm there, I'm in the studio bloody all day. So it's like, God knows why they put up with me. When you boil it down to it, they get a few nice presents every now and again. It's a tough one. You can't pretend while you're away that you can sort of make the odd phone call and upkeep your part in the whole thing. You're not there. It's like they've got to get on with it and find a rhyme without you. Then you have to do your best when you get back to slot back into it all.

When I was at your show in New York City, women were screaming your name and yelling that they loved you. How does your family react to that?

We don't often discuss that. I don't bring it up at the breakfast table, let's put it that way.

That's probably a good idea. But, the minute you step on stage, before you can even say hello, people are screaming for you. What does that feel like?

Well it's great. I mean you want the crowd to be screaming at you. It's a great thing to see the passion in the audience and feel that the music is running deep in them. All that work, all that time in the studio, all the time on the road, all the singing, all the effort, it's gotten somewhere. It's out there, and it doesn't just disappear. It almost gets stronger with time in some ways. I feel like the shows are becoming more special to me and there's this sort of intensity about the audience. There's this long relationship now, so it's fantastic. It's exciting. You want to be electrified when you're up there, taken out of the normal domain entirely. All this stuff is very helpful, people screaming and generally going crazy is a step in the right direction in my opinion.

So you experience this great adoration night after night and then when the tour ends, it stops. Does it affect you?

Yeah, I really miss the companionship of the band. But by the end of a really long tour you've had enough of each other. I miss the shows. The wonderful intimacy of the show is not like any other experience. It's not like I've got some alter ego, it's still me up there. The music can be very personal and the quiet moments can be very intimate between you and the crowd. I miss the sort of airing that it gives my soul. And life is a wonderful thing without touring as well. It's nice to be home to see the children and do all those things. You need to recharge your batteries for a good few months and then maybe you'll start thinking, "Oh it'd be nice to do a show."

What are your plans when this tour ends?

Well one thing I promised my family is that we're going to do some mega sort of holiday. It won't be next summer. It'll be the one after where we go away for a couple of months, like an adventure.

Do you know where you'll go?

No, I haven't got a clue. Somewhere. Everywhere. That's something I want to do. I don't really do holidays. I'm happier working in lots of ways. When I've really been working hard, like I have been at the moment, then yes, holidays are appreciated. Generally, I have a lot of fun just making songs up and playing music. I'm almost happier in that element. I need to find a bit more of me. That's my sort of project for when I've finished with this, which is a serious onslaught promoting this record and all the music I've recorded. And there will probably be another record out in a year or so because I've got a whole load of stuff in the can. So it's going to be a long stint and I think by the end of this I'll have earned a little bit of a slow down.

"This Year's Love" is so many couples' wedding songs. What is it like knowing that your song is such a meaningful part of people's relationships?

It's funny isn't it? "Be Mine," "This Year's Love," "Sail Away," they're very popular wedding songs. Maybe I should charge a special rate. I'll speak to my agent. It's touching. White Ladder is a very romantic record. It's a very heart-on-sleeve record. And although there's some melancholy that's there, there's a sort of uplifting feel to it all. It obviously struck home, particularly for a certain generation who are now getting married. Like I say, you just want to make a connection and obviously these songs connected.

From ER to Dawson's Creek to Scrubs, your songs have been featured in so many TV shows. Do you ever write your music with a particular scene in mind?

I don't think about that when I'm writing. I just try to make it complete within itself. There's a song on my new album called "Transformation" and I think I could really see it in an ad -- not that I'd ever let it go in one! I could really see some super-duper car advert where they've transformed their latest proxy vehicle into something else which is now going to help the planet while at the same time destroying it. I can imagine things like that. When some song is full of emotion, swooning with emotion, you can imagine it being used in some sort of pregnant pause in a film or TV program. I heard that years ago ER used the whole of the track "Life in Slow Motion" in this real big-deal scene where they sort of slowed everything down. Obviously it's got many uses. There are so many places for music to go these days, but I don't really think of it in those terms.

Have you realized just how successful you are?

I'm very much in the moment now. I think I've gone through all that fame sh*t. I haven't got time for that. I'm just enjoying life, enjoying doing it, taking it with a pinch of salt at times. There's a relish to the whole thing. A relish to every bit of singing that I do and writing and performing. Life's too short and I was fretting about what it all meant for awhile but I've just let go of all that. I can see the success and the big connection that happens as a sort of giant blessing. I remember what life was like before that and there's a different bag of complexities that stands on your desk when suddenly you're everywhere. You're ubiquitous. Then there are other issues raised by that. You have to navigate through them in your own way. I'm in a really good place with the whole thing.

What inspired you to write Draw the Line?

I don't think there's any one thing. It's the same for every record. Life, being alive, trying to be alive and you know, and drawing the line for yourself while constantly being assaulted by utter nonsense. It's like trying to do something that connects, that is meaningful, that isn't sort of general whoring in the direction of the audience. That's what the record's about. Being alive. Relationships. The whole kit and caboodle, really.

How have your kids influenced your music?

I don't think they have.

Really?

The biggest influence is that I've not been allowed to play my music at home. They'll plink on the piano the moment I go there. I have to go off somewhere else to do it. And now I spend all my days at the studio writing, rather than writing at home. Writing at home is the nicest thing. I like something about the domestic scene. It quiets you. Just a day at home when there's not many people around. I like writing there. Or writing downstairs when the family's upstairs and I can hear them. I like the proximity of it. But it becomes impractical with small children. You're either going to wake them up or they're going to annoy you. Obviously it's a huge thing having children. It changes your perspective on life. I couldn't say it's had a radical effect on my music. It's all watching my father die, my grandfather and friends die and children be born and nephews and nieces be born and my kids be born. It all feeds into your perspective on it. The rich tapestry of it. Even death is a wonderful thing in its own strange way. There's a richness to it. It's what happens. You better comes to terms with it at some point. It all feeds into my perspective on things, but I couldn't say there's been a sea change since they came along.

Just your way of working has changed.

My way of working is to get the hell out of the house. That's the biggest effect that I've noticed.