Please introduce yourself?
I was a Michael first, then a Mike, then a Mick, and now, to my Scottish friends, I'm an MJ.
Sounds like?
Michael-Michael-motorcycle.
Looks like?
Matthew Modine with glasses.
If your life were a film you’d be?
Skipping from the set of Amelie to the running-from-a-big-boulder scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark.
The song that makes your heart skip a beat is?
"Daddy I'm Fine", by Sinead O'Connor - there isn't a word or note that shouldn't be there. It's an absolutely thrilling song.
Your earliest memory as a child is…?
Playing "Mull of Kintyre" on the bagpipes while my mother taught me how to pour maple syrup from a jug.
Your favourite kind of pie?
Pumpkin.
Soooo Michael, you write songs for yourself and for others, play the piano for yourself and for others, there’s the accordion (less said about that), you also produce and from what I witnessed at Belladrum the other week you have quite the confident shake on you when the rhythm takes you. Have I missed anything out?
Just the rattle and roll bit.
You make up 1/8th of Scottish-Canadian Supergroup The Burns Unit. There is a new record out and you have been touring the sound in recent weeks. How’s it been going? And do you like how the album has turned out?
It's been such fun. And it's sort of like falling down the rabbit hole too. Because our time together is precious and limited and pretty intense, I usually come out the other end of our time together wondering 'wow, did that all actually really happen?'
I do like how the album has turned out. I love the sound of everybody's voices together. When I hear our record "Side Show", I also hear the memory of making it, which is every bit as meaningful to me as the final result.
What’s it like dealing with 8 established opinions when it comes to recording and touring together… fist fights or a house on fire?
Maybe 'house with the power cut' would be most appropriate. There's an element of stumbling about in the dark with our band that's been with us from the very beginning. The first night we met, in December 2006, we had all made the drive (and flight, in my case) to a mansion on the Solway Firth in Scotland for a week-long songwriting retreat. We arrived at night in the midst of a terrific thunderstorm. The power was out all night, so we had to huddle together by candlelight and make awkward small talk. The small talk is long gone, but we get nervous when it gets too bright.
Keeping with the theme ever so loosely, have you ever been burned? (Feel free to talk about a particular scar by real fire or the other kind of burn, by an ex-lover)
I worked at a Dairy Queen (a North American fast-food restaurant) when I was 16, and the first time I ever tried to change the grease from the fryer, I totally lost control of the bucket, and a wave of grease poured over my arms and hands. It was terrifying and painful and embarrassing. I had a scar for over a year, and became a vegetarian not long after.
And are you working on any solo Johnston music at the moment? Would you even have time to?
I'm always working on something - sometimes when I drive, sometimes when I walk, and sometimes right after I wake up. The songs are all there, and in abundance, for a new recording, it's just a question of when to take them to market, to market. My priority these days is to work with other people ahead of working on my own thing.
What would you say INSPIRES you from day to day?
My wife, my daughter, and my son. Families, like bands, can define your whole world. I can't imagine a life without them.
If you were to engage in a ‘come dine with me’ type scenario, which 4 artists would you invite around for some dinner and why?
One of my grandfathers, George Bishop, was a composer and died when I was in university. My other grandfather, Lloyd Johnston, drew me a picture of a sailboat in the last few years of his life. His wife, and my grandmother, Stella, played the accordion, though nobody ever heard her play. I can only remember her buying creamsicles for me when I came to visit. I miss them all.
So, it'd be George, Lloyd, and Stella at the table with my fourth artist, my wife Annie. Annie is the most naturally creative person I know - we've written a few songs together - she's a brilliant writer. I think they'd adore her. And I'd love to hear their voices over a few glasses of wine.
If you weren’t a musician you would probably be?
A disgruntled and inadequate restaurant manager.
What does the term "celebrity" mean to you?
We're all celebrities, in our own way. I get excited when I see one of the neighbourhood crossing guards at the grocery store.
And to close, how would you like to be remembered. Ya know, when you die?
I can't project like that. I do, however, think the Beatles nailed it: "love is all you need".
Thanks buddy!
Stars
Photography Credit: Michael Johnston action shots by Portis Wasp








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