‘There was a bit of the devil in her’: Damon Albarn and Rufus Wainwright Remember Marianne Faithfull | Damon Albarn

Damon Albarn: ‘We were quite lairy with each other’

I met Marianne somewhere in the early 2000s in a study on Goldhawk Road. Alex (James, Blur Bassist) hung with her at the time and he had invited me down to the studio. I think we were all in a high party state at the time. I sat down and had a pretty good quarrel with her right away.

We were quite lairy with each other. I said, “I can sit down and write a song, a perfect song.” And she said, “Okay, then continue back then.” And I sat down and I wrote the song that became green fields at once. I don’t remember much more about that night, but that’s how I met her.

We would always hang out with each other when I was in Paris. She would hang out with all Nick Cave people. I didn’t see her so much when she got back to London and for the last few years I didn’t really see her at all.

She had always been very considered in my family house. My mother had been obsessed with her album Broken English. I clearly remember she dancing around the living room and sang, why d’Ha is doing it?

And as a person, she was just lovely, beautiful, wonderful. I just go through the pictures of her, you have in The Guardian and the people she worked with – it’s quite a scroll call. I bet everyone says they absolutely loved her.

As for her qualities as a singer – yes, she was authentic. She wasn’t the greatest of singers, but then again, it wasn’t what made her so special. It was life that lived through this voice, the journey from being this seemingly sweet, innocent beauty to this incredible kind of indie matriarch.

Was she maternal to me? No. We always laugh. She had an endless source of incredible, some Salacious stories of people who had all become much more rewritten in their behavior. She was always a little cynical about how people were transformed into pillars in the establishment. But she was always true to her creed.

Blur made a song with her, called Kissin Time. I only remember it guard. I mean, see we were just another of her backband.

Rufus Wainright: ‘I attended a week with Marianne … and my mother’

There was never anyone like her and there will never be. There was a strange dichotomy between this will-o-wisp flowering beauty and this hard, gnarly rock ‘n’ roll figure. She had these two tribes, which were very strong and yet kind of complete contradictions.

She was a big fan of my mother (Kate McGarrigle) from the McGarrigle sisters, and occasionally she would come to their shows. I met her behind the stage when I was a toddler occasionally. But it was really through (recognized music producer) Hal Willner that I got to know her: He wanted to do these tribute to Harry Smith or Leonard Cohen and she would show up. I always loved her album Broken English, with (the lyrics of the ballad of Lucy Jordan) “She realized she would never drive/through Paris in a sports car …”. But when she did a Kurt Weill tribute with Hall and sang the ballad of the soldier’s wife, it was when she really clicked.

And then it really Gelded when I started hanging with Carrie Fisher because Marianne and Carrie were very, very close. I had several wild evenings sitting between them, kind of on the trip. They were absolutely classic, original legend that seemed to live in a universe all their own, and it was very decadent, incredibly fun and completely rock ‘n’ roll. One of the craziest times was when I had a week’s party with Marianne and my mom, whom I don’t come to too many details about – it was quite intense. I think I went to rehabilitation two weeks later. But we wanted to talk about music, funny jokes, sex, life’s madness.

Marianne was a person who struggled with addiction for many years and she never won that fight. It was always haunted her. So I think, even though she was sober, there was a bit of the devil in her, always, and on the one hand you were very attracted to it and very inspired, but you also had to be careful.

But the most important thing about her who puts aside drugs is that she was a big fan of music. She was really influenced by a wonderful song or brilliant performance. She clocked pretty early on that I was on a pretty good (career) track and she was really excited about me. And that was when she came to me and said, “Rufus, you really did it” that I knew I had. I knew there was no modicum of bullshit in her assessments in general.

This is what I most cherish the relationship with her: When she was clear and engaged artistically, she was such a rich judge of depth and meaning and the true sheen of what music can be. There was nothing cheap about her at all.