Guy Pearce: “I’m Not a Happy, Fluffy Person!”

Standing at a bus stop on a bright, hot day in Burbank, California, Guy Pearce gazes up the street and then begins removing his shirt. The sight of an internationally recognized movie star casually stripping to the waist on the sidewalk might be expected to attract some attention — especially here, where Pearce spent three weeks filming the back-to-front amnesia murder mystery Memento. But no: The chubby man waiting for a bus continues to stare into space; the traffic zips past. Pearce selects a new shirt from his backpack, puts it on and prepares to have his picture taken.

With his roles in Memento and L.A. Confidential — and now as the rugged explorer in Two Brothers and the aspiring rock star in A Slipping-Down Life — Pearce, 36, has specialized in buff, moody leading men. But the naturalized Australian cut his teeth on musicals. “The King and I, Fiddler on the Roof — I’ve done the lot,” he says. He has also been writing and recording his own songs since he was in school. He says the musical exploits of fellow Australian Russell Crowe haven’t discouraged him from telling people about his own songwriting. “But,” he explains carefully, “I’m certainly discouraged in taking it public.”

Who does he sound like? Jeff Buckley. At least he hopes so. “I can relate to him as a person. In many ways we’re very similar. We sing on the same kind of range. If I was to really get out there and do it, that’s what I would want to be able to do.”

If his album choices seem a little, well, miserable, that wouldn’t be entirely inaccurate. “I’m not,” he admits, “a shiny, happy, fluffy person.”

The Beatles, Let It Be
Capitol, 1970
“My dad saw the Beatles at the Cavern in Liverpool. He was a squadron leader in the Air Force and liked a bit of drinking and partying. He died when I was 8. Those Beatles albums that Mum and Dad had at home had a really great effect on my life, on my perception of music. I used to sit there and play the things and just spin out.”


Jeff Buckley, Grace
Columbia, 1994
“A lot of the music I like can become very theatrical — very emotional and rollercoaster-ish. I might cry to this if I ever sing along with it. I’ll go through phases with it, when I feel I’ve got emotional stuff I need to express — all sorts of emotional stuff that’s never been resolved because of my dad that I’m very keen to have come to the surface.”


Talking Heads, Stop Making Sense
Warner Bros., 1984
“Whenever I listen to Talking Heads, it reminds me of knowing I was going to be leaving school: very happy. It was a bit of a toffy private school, and all my young life was about learning to act: by trying to make out to people that I was with what they were on about, to keep them happy so I wouldn’t be bullied.”


Kate Bush, Hounds Of Love
EMI America, 1985
“Listening to Hounds of Love reminds me of moving out of home. I’d just turned 18 and got the job on Neighbours, an evening soap opera that was on in Australia, Monday to Friday. I’m the hugest Kate Bush fan in the world. I thought about writing to her for many years but in the end decided not to. I wrote to the fan magazine instead.”


Joni Mitchell, Blue
Reprise, 1971
“I don’t listen to this very often, but it’s one of those where if I know I want to be sad, I’ll put it on. It’s so melancholic: very fucking sad. I’ll take it with me sometimes, and if I’m missing my wife and really want to delve into thinking about what she means to me and how much I love her — this takes me straight into it.”


Nick Drake, Pink Moon
Island, 1972
“I was wondering — should I chuck some light stuff in? Because people are always saying, ‘Don’t let Guy put the music on!’ Sometimes people want lighter stuff — ambient background music. I listen to Nick Drake as melancholy background. If I want background music I can connect to a little bit, I’ll put him on.”


Silverchair, Diorama
Atlantic, 2002
“It’s not at all because I’m in one of their videos that I’ve chosen this. Daniel Johns, the singer, is a genius. He was 15 when they made their first record. His voice is extraordinary — he’s got the devil in there like a 15-year-old kid shouldn’t have. I wrote to him after this came out just to say, ‘You rock, mate.’”


Cocteau Twins, Blue Bell Knoll
4AD, 1988
“My real attraction to music isn’t through lyrics or poetry — it’s through what music can do for you. I love their tone and sounds: twisted, obscure, melancholic. All of them together, with Liz Fraser’s voice, sound like this odd instrument. I can’t understand what they’re singing about.”


Daniel Lanois, Acadie
Warner Bros., 1989
“Lanois has a really rich, beautiful voice — very romantic. It’s one of the first things I’ll play when I get to a new place, one of those albums I’ll want to have with me in case I’ll be feeling down and I don’t want to be — on those rare occasions. If that’s on, then everything feels safe and calm and familiar.”


Keith Jarrett, The Köln Concert
ECM, 1975
“This goes back a long way, to when I was in school having saxophone lessons. It’s a real security blanket for me. I’ve played it so often that I know it back to front; I can sing every note. It’s live, so you can hear the audience, and I’ve learned every sound and cough and splutter as well.”