King Creosote on keeping 'dark forces' at bay

The Courier

30-04-2025

'I sometimes get clocked in the chip shop queue in Anstruther, wiping dog s*** off my shoe,' says Kenny Anderson, aka Fife musician King Creosote.
'But most of the locals don't notice me, other than as Billy Anderson's son, or as a dad picking up their kid from school.
'I've never had the look of somebody in a band, and yet I'm reminded that Fence (the revered Fife musical collective) was renowned for the beard-wearing beanie hat brigade.'
Having requested an interview in person with Kenny, we were informed he'd prefer to communicate via email.
The reason? He's focused on the 'quiet life', and would rather share his thoughts via iPad.
Which in itself is pretty surprising – because Kenny lives without WiFi and has no mobile phone.
But just for us, he gets himself along to fellow musician and partner HMS Ginafore's house, where he types up his replies on her tablet.
'Musically I hit the ground running with a few less confrontational songs written in the dark of January alongside my usual outpouring of directionless synth noodling,' he says.
'Spiritually I've done my best to keep the collywobbles at bay by focussing on the moment, rejecting both the past and the future.
'Being outdoors helps. And thankfully my newest boss of five-and-a-half years (his daughter) keeps me from dwelling on the dark forces that I see playing out.'
Hobby-wise, Kenny has been reading – a lot. Never less than six books at the same time.
'The problem is I easily slip into the mindset of each author, speaking in clipped brutal facts one minute to surreal technobabble the next,' he says.
He's also, surprisingly, an addict of Farming Simulator – and has been since 2016.
The video game allows him to simulate growing crops, breeding livestock, operate huge machines – all while sitting at home.
His eldest daughter sorts his socials, manages his tours, and sorts merchandise, but his 'non-musical life' is a different story.
'It's no TV, long-wave radio, no WiFi, no Bluetooth gadgets, patchy intermittent mobile phone signal on one or two window sills. I kept my landline.
'I make a trip to St Andrews or Dundee to do banking stuff for I'm cash and cheque only, and seem to be paying over and above by insisting on paper bills.
'I can't buy anything online, not having a mobile phone to receive the required security code, the plus side being that I only shop locally.'
There are others benefits to avoiding tech, too: 'I have no idea what folks' opinions are.
'I don't read criticism of my gigs or records unless they make it to print. My pals have no way of changing their plans last minute, nor do I.'
Avoiding tech means Kenny is able to lives quietly – and as someone who suffers from tinnitus, that's a blessing.
His house, he says, is as 'EMF-free' as it can be, and devoid of pinging phones.
Knowing Kenny has a boat, I'm curious as to where, if anywhere, he travels in it.
'It's open deck. I haven't been out since a wave crashed over the side and soaked me from the waist down,' he says.
'In Lerwick recently I saw an upturned boat of a similar size made into the roof of a garage. That got me thinking…'
It seems Kenny wasn't cut out to be a seaman – he struggles to tie bowline knots, and finds tide times, charts and vectors tricky to fathom.
However, he says there are less 'chemtrails' at sea, although whether he's joking, I can't be sure.
For those who've never listened to King Creosote's music, how would Kenny describe it?
'Heartfelt, self-deprecating nostalgic cynicism dressed up in the same four chords?' he offers.
The upcoming tour, Any Storm in a Teacup, is the follow-up to last year's Any Port in a Storm, which Kenny says was set up to help make his return to gigging as stress-free as possible (he'd taken time out after Covid).
'We set out to find smaller venues in off-the-beaten-track coastal towns, playing only at weekends, home again for Monday's afternoon school run.
'Any Storm in a Teacup employs the same cast, but it's more spur of the moment, freestyle, with more potential to come off the rails.'
Kenny says fans can expect a relaxing first half hour of ambient music from KY10 – an experimental side project.
This will be followed by 75 minutes of King Creosote songs old and new, with accompanying visuals.
'I'm still a bit unsure of myself in the role of entertainer, so there's a wee bit of bumbling about on my part, and disjointed banter,' he says.
'But my voice has behaved itself thus far and I'm enjoying singing more than ever, losing all sense of time, place, self. Result.'
He hopes fans will be able to 'forget their own woes for a while' by indulging him in his.
What does being immersed in music do for Kenny, though? Bring him peace? A sense of catharsis?
'The writing of it is mainly a way to give my worrying, overthinking brain a rest.
'The lyrics are often just a cry out to be understood on some level,' he muses.
'My music relies more and more on the accidental syncing of off-kilter tape loops with flakey synths and wonky accordion playing – a reflection of my life I suppose.
'Playing live has become the most successful distraction from constant worry. It gives me a sense of purpose.'
During a recent interview with KT Tunstall, the star commented that Kenny was one of her 'biggest mentors'.
'She's very kind to give me a shout out at gigs and in interviews,' he says. 'But have you heard her impersonation of Felicity Kendal?' The mind boggles.
He's playing a few summer festivals, and has set himself goals including ridding himself of clutter and finishing DIY jobs.
He's also looking forward to taking his daughters on holiday.
'Our youngest is obsessed by the Loch Ness Monster. And ducks. It used to be owls.
'Hopefully I'll not be swimming the loch with a couple of dark green umbrellas so's not to disappoint her.'