Billboard+20180804

liked the idea of ending
The 1975 in the same
way David Bowie killed
Ziggy Stardust: unex-
pectedly and onstage.
It appealed to his love
of melodrama and nar-
rative closure to bow
out with the decade.
Eventually, though, he
decided against robbing
himself of the most
important thing in his

life for the sake of a

memorable statement.

As is his habit, he

went to the opposite

extreme and said that

the band should record

two albums in quick

succession. The group

is going to Los Angeles

to make Notes on a

Conditional Form, with

a plan to release it next

spring, a few months

into a world tour. He

excitedly plays me

some of A Brief Inquiry

on his Mac. The songs

variously recall George

Michael, John Cale,

Chet Baker, Radiohead

and Drake. One is nar-

rated by Apple’s Siri.

Another is named for

conceptual artist Joseph

Beuys’ 1974 piece I Like

America and America

Likes Me. It’s... a lot.

Healy isn’t trying to

make The 1975 bigger

(“I wouldn’t know what

the formula would be”),

just more interesting.

“Once I’ve done

something, I’m on

to the next thing,”

he says. “I feel more

addicted to the days

when I walked around

Manchester, dreaming

of playing Madison

Square Garden, than

to playing Madison

Square Garden. I’m

not very good in the

moment. The past is

like this vague, hazy,

beautiful memory, and

the future is this vague

uncertainty, and there

seems to be this clinical

spotlight on the present,

where I don’t get to

Hann, MacDonald

and Daniel. The

band wears

Comme de

Garçons shirts

and Ermenegildo

Zegna suits.

AUGUST 4, 2018  WWW.BILLBOARD.COM 43

experience those things

that I romanticize either

side of it.”

Each night at Angelic,

Healy goes to bed

listening to The 1975’s

new material on head-

phones and fantasizing

about the irst time the

band will play it live. His

eyes grow round at the

thought of it. He is wide

awake and dreaming.