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Charlie – Terry Thomas interview

Charlie Kitchens Of Distinction 300x300 Charlie   Terry Thomas interview

Even if you’ve never heard Terry Thomas play guitar or sing, you’ve probably heard his influence on records by artists including Aerosmith, Bad Company, Tesla and Tommy Shaw; releases he either produced, co-wrote, or both. Thomas’ musical career was first established in the English band Ax, when he first introduced an apple-cheeked drummer named Nicko McBrain to London audiences. Later, he mastered his craft as chief songwriter of the British band Charlie, whose blend of stylized art-rock brought success in the 1970s and 1980s with singles including “She Loves To Be In Love” and “It’s Inevitable.” After the breakup of Charlie, Thomas turned his talented ears to writing and producing, working with artists previously mentioned along with Fastway and Foreigner. A decade later, Thomas was back in the studio, laying down tracks that took the blister of pop culture television and popped it square in the face of Simon Cowell and other Hollywood stooges who think they know what America and the rest of the world should listen to. What was planned as a solo project turned into Charlie’s 2009 release, Kitchens Of Distinction, finding Thomas reunited with keyboardist Julian Colbeck and guitarist Martin Smith for the band’s first release in 23 years. Though Charlie in name, Kitchens Of Distinction is Thomas’ baby – and the baby is cranky. This dichotomous creation is a study in blending full-frontal rock guitar, lyrics with punk attitude and studio polish into the 21st century version of Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On. Except here it’s, “What The Hell’s Going On?” ClassicRockMusicBlog wanted to know.

CRMB: What first drew you into music?

Thomas: Well, when I was really young – about 6 or 7 – I learned to play the recorder, to quite a high standard. But when I went to my next school – my high school – there was no music there; well, there was music there but it was listening to composers and nothing really practical. And then a guy in my class had a guitar – this is quite a long time ago – and he just showed me how to play a couple things on the guitar. And that’s it, I was hooked. I was playing in a band six weeks later [laughs].

What music were you listening to when you got into guitar?

Well it was in the days of Ricky Nelson and Duane Eddy and over here [in England] the Shadows and things like that – just before The Beatles.

Did you collect records?

I started to. In those days – it was the late ’50s, early ’60s – it was expensive then. It wasn’t like now, and everything is available.

Did you hang on to anything?

No. When I was in my teens I had a bunch of Motown and Stax [records] and stuff like that, but I’m afraid it’s all gone.

What attracted you to the Motown and Stax sounds?

First of all, it was the teen-age fashion. It was dance music – in my mind all music should be dance music – and it was exceptionally well done. If you’ve ever seen that documentary about the Funk Brothers, called Standing In The Shadows, and how those musicians played on more hits than The Beatles or Rolling Stones and The Beach Boys put together. It was fantastic.

In one of your earlier bands, Nicko McBrain was the drummer?

That’s right. We were called Ax. It was John Anderson, who was in Charlie eventually, myself and Nicko. We played around London in the late ’60s. He was a fantastic drummer then, and he was only 16. It was about the time of psychedelia. We played in places like The Ram House in London – those were famous Sunday afternoon shows where everybody went to get stoned. It was great fun; it was great participation from the audiences. They’d come up and give you a beer if they liked what you’d done.  We used to play sort of 10-minute epic songs, as was the fashion of the day.

After Ax, did you have a vision of the musical path you wanted to follow?

Not particularly. After Ax, I went to live in Portugal for a couple of years; I went to work there. And when I came back I started Charlie – it wasn’t called Charlie originally. I just got in a band and tried to write what was in my mind. In those days I was heavily into Neil Young – in the early ’70s – and Crosby, Stills & Nash. There are turning points in your life, like when The Beatles first came out. I was like, “Oh my God,” you know? I want to do this. And then I remember hearing Crosby, Stills & Nash when they first came out, especially “Long Time Gone.” It was like, “Wow! This is fantastic.” The mood and the beautiful harmonies, so that was a turning point. And the next turning point was probably Steely Dan and AC/DC, so it’s a bit all over the place.

I hear a definite Steely Dan influence on “Cars.”

That’s right. That was written quite a while ago. I was in this band in the late ’80s called The Fabulous Lampshade Sisters, and we used to play around London and I wrote songs for them as well. I never wanted to be in a covers band because I think it would get boring, so if I was in a band I used to write the songs for it. I wrote that one in about 1987 and just updated the lyrics a bit.

So the music hasn’t really changed since 1987?

That’s right, yeah. It was written in a Steely Dan type of groove.

Kitchens Of Distinction was originally conceived as a solo project, and then a couple of your old band mates joined you. How did that happen?

It’s a long story. There was a company in America that had been releasing our CDs for ages, without any of our permissions. Some of the people do this. They get a back catalog of artists and they’re happy to sell 1,000 or 2,000 CDs of each before they get sued. You say, “C’mon, let’s try to be fair here.” This is theft of intellectual property. Our original record label – it was a production company – they went bankrupt years and years ago, so that meant all the copyright reverts back to us and to me. It was like knocking your head against a brick wall. At one stage this guy – he’d got some money from Sony – said he was going to put a box set out, and then I started thinking about doing a solo record. Then Voiceprint became interested in this box set, which never came out because we were having terrible trouble finding the original tapes. So I spoke to the guys at Voiceprint and they put it out and have been doing very well for me.

This album rails against pop culture and society. Was there a specific incident that set you off?

Ah, it just builds up doesn’t it? I mean, it’s getting worse actually, especially in this country and it’s a small country. Fashions come and go, but art has now gone – there’s no room for art anywhere. Nobody wants to spend money waiting for someone to create something. So they just make product, whatever it is. And especially in music – Simon Cowell has a done a terrible job creating music, but none of the record companies are developing their own artists. They just want it already done for them.

Your song “Shit TV” could just as well be called “Horseshit TV.”

[laughs] Yeah, yeah. That doesn’t scan too well when you’re trying to sing it. [laughs]

Record companies are so different today.

Oh, absolutely. They sort of crash and burn. Artists come… it’s not really about music. They’re are a lot of young girl artists here. You read about them, and “They’re really creative and they’re doing this,” and you check them out on Youtube and they’re terrible. And I don’t mean that in a “muso, critical” way, it’s just not good. It’s not good pop music, even. They have their look. It’s all a generic look.

Why do you think it’s so pervasive?

I think it’s a part of dumbing down society. It keeps us… it’s valium in your frontroom. It’s “keep everybody quiet, keep everybody happy,” but this credit crunch has almost woken a few people up. They’re trying to get them back to sleep again. Some people want strict boundaries on their lives and don’t want to go beyond those boundaries, and when they’re challenged to do so it becomes difficult for them.

Is that a product of technology?

I think it’s a product of the economy, actually. I’m not saying, “Go back to Socialism,” – I am left of fence, as you might have guessed – but Socialism didn’t work in this country. In the end, it feels like the economy itself, and you can’t offer too much greed, can you?

You have a gift for taking angry lyrics and matching them to melodic and catchy music. If you released this album 25 years ago, it’s got radio-play written all over it. Is it challenging to write like that?

It’s what I do; it’s what I’ve always done. I’ve always been – if you like – a fan of melodic music. When I was still producing – I went to produce Aerosmith – when they were thinking about using me for one of their records. And they actually said to me, “How do you think we should write a single?” I said, “Well, it’s in you. You don’t have to think about it. Your influences all made you write singles, if you like. You write commercial music. It’s in you.” Once you start to think about it, or changing, it’s all over. So, yeah, I’ve otherwise written quite melodic stuff and then dressed it up with something nasty. [laughs]

The guitar riff of “Blue Sky Bullshit” has something like a Metallica groove, but you smooth it out. It’s not like Rage Against The Machine…

[laughs] Excellent. Right, right, where everything’s angry and that. It’s like, “I’m going to come around from behind. I will hit you in the back of the head and not the nose.” [laughs]

I’ve heard so many poorly produced and over-engineered CDs, but this is a great-sounding disc. What’s your approach to recording and mixing?

This is backed and financed by myself – I did all the drums in a proper recording studio, and then brought it home to my own home studio. I’ve got plenty of guitars and amplifiers. It was just making sure – when you’re in your own studio you’ve got the time to experiment and work. I’ve had a lot of experience in studios, so I know what’s going to work and what’s not going to work. It’s all about making space for everything.

Space is often as important as what’s around it.

Yeah. Of course with these days, and technology, everyone’s making records in the bedroom. There is no acoustic space. If you go into a big studio, that’s what you’re paying for – the cubic volume of the studio, to get this air around instruments – especially drums – so they can speak properly and not refract. That’s one of the problems these days: People go into a small room, put their drum kit in it and it just sounds like a mess.

Recorded drums rarely sound like real drums. Are they difficult?

They’re not difficult to record, but you do need the right space to put them in. If you get the right space – a friend of mine, who I’ve used many times as a producer, he came in and put the mikes in the right place. But even so, because of the power of modern records, drums, left on their own, will get lost behind the bludgeoning of bass and guitars. So you just have to beef them up a little bit; just toughen up the bass with the kick drum and the snare drums, so they can speak, whilst maintaining the dynamics of the performance.

You mentioned having several guitars. Do you collect?

Well, I did at one stage when I was working a lot in America. I still have quite a few that I collected,  buy I’ve sold a few because I had so many of them.

Do you have a go-to guitar if you’re struggling with a solo?

I go through all of them [laughs]. I’ve got a very nice old Strat that I use quite a lot.

The guitar solo at the end of “Alcohol” really stands out on this album.

I’m glad you liked that. I was quite pleased with that one. And that was done, actually, on a $50 guitar with nice pickups in it.

What I really like about this record is not just the songwriting but the guitar. You’re a hell of a guitar player.

Oh, thanks very much. Thank you. I was never noted for it in Charlie – we were never a major band. We had some good airplay. We missed success by a whisker, because we were in the right place for success but we never got that coming together of all the factors that we needed.

So why did you decide to release this album now?

I had the songs, and I thought I should do it now. I’ve got a studio at home. Some of them we play – we play in a little band that plays around London – and they always went down really well. So I thought, “Let’s do this album, and put it out and see if people like it.” And now I’ve done it [laughs].

Your producing career has included some of the biggest names in rock: Aerosmith, Foreigner, Tesla and Bad Company. How did you get involved with Bad Company?

Bad Company – the original hookup was the singer of Bad Company, who replaced Paul Rodgers, Brian Howe. He actually heard an album I produced for Tommy Shaw, and he liked it and needed somebody to write songs with. I wasn’t going to be a producer at this stage because I had done an album with Tommy Shaw, of Styx, and I co-wrote the songs. He [Howe] heard this and wanted to write some songs with me for a Bad Company record, so I worked with him and we wrote some songs, and they really liked the songs. Then Mick Ralphs asked me to write some songs with him, and then they asked me to produce a record. So it’s just a bit of luck that somebody heard this record. And I ended up co-writing three Bad Company records that did very well.

How about Tesla?

At that time I had a profile – it was the mid-90s – and I had quite a high profile then. I just got a call that their management wanted me to meet the band and maybe produce their record. Unbeknown to me and unbeknown to the management, it was their last record. It wasn’t actually their last record, but it was in their first incarnation. I didn’t know that they just re-signed with Geffen, and each of the band members got $1 million dollars and decided that they were going to make this record and call it a day. So their motivation for making this record wasn’t terrific.

If you want to go out and play a live gig in London, what’s the scene like?

It’s terrible [laughs]. It’s terrible. You have to either pay to play -you’ve got to guarantee to bring in 50 to 60 people, this is in small places. If you’re in a band starting out – I wouldn’t know how to start a band out these days. I managed a couple of bands in the early part of 2000, and it’s so expensive. I had a young band and we got them playing around. We managed to do a DVD and a video – they’re all 18 and 19, good-looking and their songs are good. You go to a record company, and the first thing a record company says is, “Yeah, you’re right. They’re the right age. The songs are good. They look good. But we need 5,000 pounds before we can think of signing them.” And I’m saying, “That’s what I need from you!” I can’t afford to put a band out on the road for a year. It’s going to cost me $300 a night – at least. But that’s why you’ve got, basically, new artists that are being put together by production companies. They find a good-looking artist and find someone to write songs – they do the whole thing – and then just pass it onto a record company, which is nothing more than a distribution company.

I read a review of this album that said something to the effect that a lot of comeback albums often fall short of the goal, and this one goes in the opposite direction and is perhaps the strongest under the Charlie name.

The reviews have all been good, and it would be great if people could hear it. If people can hear it, they can relate to it. It’s getting people to hear it – there’s so much competition out there. And having said that art is dead, there are thousands and thousands of bands and artists making their own music and being creative, without a hell of a chance of ever getting anyone to hear them, unfortunately.

Even in today’s musical climate, there’s been a miraculous comeback of classic rock bands -groups that are touring worldwide and selling out venues. There is obviously still a huge demand for quality music and music with staying power.

The whole classic rock generation, if you like, lots of younger people have discovered there’s lots of good music, and that people can actually play and it’s not choreographed. You go and see some modern artist, like Lady GaGa, and they’re cabaret, just cabaret. It’s all sort of computer and choreographed. There’s no spontaneity or creation. I mean, sure, you’ve got big hits in this country, but people say, “What’s this music all about?” You’ve got sort of an FM-rock revival over here.

And Kitchens Of Distinction could be at home on FM rock radio in 1978, 1983 or today. It has that timeless quality missing from so much of what’s released.

I’m pleased you said that because that’s what you try to do in a band. I haven’t regressed to the past but I haven’t tried to work in a genre I’m not comfortable with. I keep up to date with music. I work with young bands. Sometimes I say, “I can’t bring anything to this project because it just doesn’t do anything for me,” you know? So that’s a great compliment for me, because that’s what I try to do. I try to make it sound modern but with the same values I’ve always had.

And this album has appeal for a person in their 20s to their 50s and beyond.

That’s the feedback I’ve had. A friend with a 16-year-old daughter says, “What was that song?” I’m pleased with that as well.

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Foghat – The Roger Earl interview

Foghat

When the topic of great live rock and roll albums comes up, you can be sure that Foghat’s name will be mentioned. From their first live release back in 1977 to the latest Live At The Blues Warehouse, Foghat has been thrilling crowds with their blues-based boogie rock, giving their all at every show. In 2009, Foghat continue to deliver the goods onstage, a tribute to the band members who’ve carried on despite major setbacks. After the death of frontman “Lonesome” Dave Peverett in 2000, and the passing of slide guitarist extraordinaire Rod Price in 2005, it seemed that Foghat’s best days were behind them. But drummer Roger Earl wouldn’t let the band or its music die. He recruited vocalist and guitarist Charlie Huhn into the Foghat fold, joining Earl, guitarist Bryan Bassett and original bassist Tony Stevens. In 2005, Craig McGregor re-joined the ‘hat, replacing Stevens and solidifying the lineup that’s since released Foghat Live II and, now, Live At The Blues Warehouse. Earl and crew are determined to keep playing and making music for as long as they can, keeping Foghat in very good hands. Good news indeed.

ClassicRockMusicBlog.com spoke to Earl about Foghat’s past, present and future.

Let’s go back in time: Where did the stylized Foghat logo come from?

Roger Earl: That was originally done on our Energized album, by the Warner Brothers’ art department. At the time we recognized it as being something special – which it is, I think. It’s a very cool logo and very recognizable. From there, I’ve actually done some artwork for the Family Joules album, which is a studio album we did in ’04, I had to do the artwork for it but I had to make up some of the letters – that was fun. It’s a very cool logo. At one time I even toyed with the idea of doing an entire typeface, but we kind of got busy. [laughs] I used to be a commercial artist, and I can remember some of it.

That logo gives the band an identity beyond the music.

Exactly. In fact, that was one of the things that was discussed at the NAMM Convention, they wanted to do it because the logo was so visible. And a number of the smaller – obviously most of the larger record store chains are now defunct – what the smaller stores are doing to actually enable them to stay in business is selling other kinds of merchandise: T-shirts, sticks, hats, picks and stuff like that. So this will enable them to stay in business, which I thought was really cool. Instead of giving up, they’re finding other ways to make money. They were sort of excited that Foghat is a very recognizable logo. In fact, Foghat has always been up for doing “in-stores,” talking to fans. Every night, after shows we go out and meet our fans and do a meet-and-greet and sign anything they want to bring along. I think that’s important. I think it’s one of the reasons Foghat has maybe had such longevity – we’ve always been fan-oriented instead of locking ourselves up and not talking to anybody. It’s a fact of life: Without the fans – it may sound a little cliched – but you don’t have anything if they don’t turn up to see you or buy your records – as they say in the business, “You’re fucked!” [laughs]

On the cover of Rock And Roll Outlaws, the four of you are standing next to a plane with the Foghat logo on the nose. Did the band have its own plane then?

Not back then, we didn’t. That was just something that was stuck on the nose. We didn’t have a Lear jet until the Stone Blue tour, and to be honest with you – it was fun – but you never got a chance to hang out after… the fun of being on the road back then was if we had a day off we could go out and jam at some of the local bars, meet some other musos and have some fun. When we had the jet, we were based out of – we’d have a hub city like Chicago. That’s not a bad city to hang out in, good one in fact. We’d be down in Key West or… it was OK, but I preferred hanging out after. A number of times we would go out and jam after shows or on days off. I don’t miss the Lear jet, and, actually, I don’t miss the tour bus either. I think the way we all travel now is a lot easier. We take commercial flights; we just bring our guitars. I bring my snare, pedal, sticks and my cymbals; the promoter supplies the back-line to our specifications, and 99 percent of the time it works. We play two or three times a week – weekends mostly – then we get to go home, go golfing, go fishing, hang out with the grandchildren, become friendly with the wife. [laughs] Life is good. Life is really good.

The Fool For The City album cover is a classic. Whose idea was it to have you “fishing” in a manhole?

I think that was Nick Jameson’s idea. To the best of my recollection, Nick Jameson – who was our bass player on the Fool For The City album and our longtime producer and longtime friend – I think it was his idea. We went into New York City one Sunday morning – early – the photographer and our manager pulled up the manhole cover, sat me down and I got my [fishing] rod out and sat on a soap box and started fishing. Then along come a couple of New York’s finest in their car, and they said, “Hey. What are you doing? Do you have a license?” [laughs] “You got a fishing license?” Then they started laughing. They were great. They came out and took some pictures of them like handcuffing me and carting me off – just pictures. We didn’t use them. I don’t know what happened to them. New York’s finest: They’re the best. They worry about all the bad guys. They don’t bother you if you’re having fun.

I love the photo with the older couple. The guy has a look of disgust on his face that’s about 10 miles wide.

[laughs] Yeah. Right. They came out of their building and wanted to know what was going on and why people were lifting up manhole covers in the middle of the street. That was a fun shoot.

I later learned you’re a fisherman, something I’ve done for a long time, too.

Oh. I knew you were OK. [laughs] Yeah, I love to fish.

On the Night Shift cover, you, Rod and Craig are all sporting some serious mustaches, and Dave’s face is smooth as a baby’s bottom. Was there any pressure on him to grow a ‘stache for that cover?

[laughs] No, no, no. Actually, Foghat was always very much a band – though Dave was the lead singer and most prolific writer in the band – just about every song we did, everyone had input in it. The band itself – the nucleus of the band – always maintained control on what we were doing and what we weren’t doing, as far as what songs we were writing. The mustache thing was just one of those things. I don’t, it’s sort of like when you had hair or didn’t have hair. [laugh] No, there was no pressure on Dave, and if there was Dave probably wouldn’t have noticed it. It would have been like water off a duck’s back to him. The only thing that Dave cared about, particularly with the band, was music. Everything else, Dave wasn’t really bothered. Music was his life’s blood. I miss him. He had a huge print on this band. He was like our musical guide, if you will. Anytime we were on the road – on the bus or even in the hotels – Dave would always have sounds. He would always have new stuff or old stuff he’d compile. Back then I guess it was cassettes; later on it became CDs. He was like the band DJ: We’d get on the bus and we’d sit in the front, which was like the main musical lounge; the back lounge was for other nefarious stuff. [laughs] So we’d sit up there and Dave would say, “What do you want to do tonight? Do you want to listen to some blues? Some rock? Some rockabilly?” Or he’d pull out some really cool country stuff that we hadn’t heard before. Especially the last tour that we did together, back in 1999, Dave and I, in particular got… we were never tight, but we were always cool with each other. Dave and I always got on real well – there was never any problems between us other than a brief period when Dave left the country. It was a lot of fun. We’d stay up till the early morning hours and listen to music.

You guys toured with a bunch of bands. Did you ever share a bill with Rory Gallagher? I would think he and Dave would be kindred spirits.

I don’t think so. Dave really liked him, but Rory Gallagher was one of Rod’s favorite artists. We may have done [a show with him] back in England – it’s quite possible. I saw Rory on a number of occasions. Rod Price loved Rory; in fact, he named his third son Rory. Rory Gallagher was something special. We did a show in New York not too long ago – I think Arnie Goodman had a lot to do with it – and it was a Rory Gallagher tribute. I got up and jammed with a bunch of musicians and played some of the songs he made famous. That was sad, Rory not being there. He had such great heart and feel and was an incredible guitar player. Live, he was just like dynamite. He’d just blow you away.

Going back to the Night Shift and Fool For The City albums, you had a really big drum sound on those records. On Night Shift, your drums almost sound like John Bonham’s. How important was the drum sound for you?

It’s interesting that you should say that, because I particularly enjoy the drum sound on Night Shift. We were recording – Dan Hartman had a recording studio in his house in Connecticut, and that’s where we did it. The drums were recorded in this big, huge room – wooden floor and hard ceiling. The drums are an acoustic instrument, and the way to get a really cool drum sound is to use room mikes. When you put mikes up real close – often over the years producers will come in and start putting tape all over your drum heads. I was never into that, but sometimes you have to go along with them. But Dan wasn’t like that. I used a 26-inch bass drum – big drums, no tape on them – it was a Ludwig drum kit. Yeah, so I had a whole room to myself, and the interesting thing about that record is that Rod and Dave were having somewhat of a writer’s block, I think. So often what would happen is myself and Craig McGregor would be in there, Dave would be strumming rhythm guitar and have a mike, and Craig and I would sort of have to figure out how to play the rhythm parts. Dave would be mumbling along and go, “Solo,” and then he’d say, “Verse, bridge,” etc. Craig and I would have to transpose this into sort of a rock and roll tune. A lot of the tracks were done with a click-track, as well, whereas prior to that most of our recordings were done pretty much live in the studio. The only things we’d overdub would be lead guitar and/or vocals. And that wasn’t always the case either: On the Energized album, that was pretty much all done live except most of the lead guitar – that was overdubbed. But the Night Shift album was just the bass and drums, and Dave with an acoustic guitar and singing into a mike, letting us know where the changes were coming.

It did come off well: It’s a really good-sounding album. We have to give our producer, Dan Hartman, credit for that. He figured we were a rock and roll band. He knew the drums had to sound really good, and he was actually a really good drummer, himself, and a good bass player – great musician. He was a talented producer, I thought. But it was really one of the first times that it was like work for us in the studio. It was enjoyable because I think the end product – about ¾ of that I think is a really strong record.

I wish you had that drum sound on other records, because that’s how you sound live.

It is, and oddly enough I’ve been doing some session work with some other people – some friends of mine – we’re doing a record out in Detroit with some other fairly well-known musos. I’ll let you know later on if it’s coming out, but it’s sounding very good. One of the things that was really cool about it – I again had a big, DW drum kit, and the whole room was just for me. The guitars and bass and everything else were in other rooms, sot it’s just drums and because they’re an acoustic instrument they work and sound much better if you’re gonna use the room – again it’s wooden, you know, wood walls, hard-wood floors. I’ll let you know how that one turns out. It should be done by the end of the year. I’ve got lots of projects going on here. [laughs]

I know you play DW drums now. Did you ever collect drums or have you held on to some of your older kits?

There was a time when I used to collect drums, but [now] I live on a houseboat [laughs], so I don’t have such a collection. I do have the snare drum that I used on the Fool For The City album, which is an old Slingerland Radio King. My wife re-found it for me for my 60th birthday. I have my last Ludwig drum kit with twin 26-inch bass drums, which I used on The Return Of The Boogiemen album. But I use my DW drums now; I love DW drums. They’re very musical. I use a different drum kit just bout every day, unless I’m using my own, and almost without fail they sound great right out of the box. You have to tune them however you like them, but DW drums are terrific. You don’t have all those strange overtones like you get with other drums. The actual drums themselves are tuned: They have like a timbre to the shell. [DW vice president] John Good still puts each drum kit together, and it shows. The quality is undeniable… in fact, what happened is that I sat down – we were out at the West Coast one time and I was at a store – and just sat down at one of their drum kits in the store, and I went, “Wow! This is great.” And I tried them again at another store. I called up DW just before we were doing another live album and talked to them and they asked me – because I had been with Ludwig for about 25 years, endorsed their drums and was good friends with Bill Ludwig III – and I went down there and they took me around the factory. John Good and Garrison, who’s the artist relations guy there – great people. It’s fascinating: Everything is done to, like, aircraft standards – they make all their own screws, everything. So I go and sit in a room with John Good, and he said, “So, why do you want to use DW drums?” I said, “Because they’re the best,” really buttering him up. [laughs] He laughed and said, “We want to be careful. We don’t want people shopping and changing drum kits, for whatever reason.” I said, “I’m not like that. I’ve been with Ludwig for 25 years, and the only reason I don’t stay with them is because Bill Ludwig, who is a good friend, is no longer with them. And you make the best drums out there.” He said, “Thank you. Make out a wish list.” And I’ve never regretted it. Because of the way we travel – different drum kit every night – just about every decent back-line in the country is going to have a couple of DW kits, because they are the standard now. They travel well. I love them.

You’ve said that Foghat didn’t make records that the band members didn’t like, but there must be some records you like better than others. Which ones stand out for you?

I loved working on the first album, for a number of reasons. Working with Dave Edmunds was an absolute gas, as a producer and as a musician he’s brilliant. I loved doing that; in fact, without Dave’s help I don’t think we’d have got anywhere close to where we are now. But having said that, on the first album there were a number of people who helped us out: Todd Rundgren helped us out on a number of tracks. We had people coming in, helping us out playing and just hanging out and encouraging us. So, I like the first album. Fool For The City was probably one of my favorite records. That was the first album that we actually took time off the road – a long time off the road – it was deliberate. It was like the record company needed another album. The band was getting hot. We said the only way we’re going to do this is if we take time – we’d been touring for about four years, literally like 13 months a year and if we had a couple days off we’d go into the studio. But the Fool For The City record was recorded up in Sharon, Vermont, at a studio called Suntreader. Tony Stevens had been asked to leave the band again, and Nick Jameson, our longtime producer and friend, was now our bass player. Nick and I used to live up in Bearsville so were friends anyway. So Nick and I put some drums and a couple of amps and guitars in a station wagon and would drive to different studios. When Nick found this studio up in Sharon, Vermont – it was a huge room, a great big room – and I went down there and banged away on some drums, and he came down and played bass and guitar and stuff. We recorded some things, and we both agreed it was a great-sounding studio. Then when we were finished with some writing down here in Long Island, we went back up to Sharon, Vermont, locked ourselves up for two or three months and came up with a record.

One interesting thing about “Slow Ride,” which I had forgotten about but Nick reminded me recently, is that when we were recording the actual version of “Slow Ride,” about half-way through it the power went out. [laughs] We only had half a song. We came back to it a week or month later or something and had to pick it up where we were. So we’re listening to it, trying to get the drum sounds similar, doing the last three minutes of the song. That happened a few times: The power would go out – somebody would hit a [power] pole. We were out in the middle of nowhere – it was like a small mountain or a large hill, but it was in the middle of nowhere. Deer would run into the car; bears would be in the garbage can. It was a lot of fun. We got a lot done. That was really enjoyable doing that record. I learned a lot from that.

You mentioned “Slow Ride,” which was a huge success. Beyond the radio hits, what are your favorite deep tracks that you wish more people knew.

What we do each year – or what I do each year, anyway – at the end of each tour I’ll go through the records and CDs and try and get three or four new songs or old songs that we haven’t played in years, so we can put them in the set. In January, February, March, April – we have a band house down in Florida on 10 acres in the middle of nowhere. We rehearse and record down there. We sort of figure out which songs we like – there’s probably half-a-dozen songs we’ll always play, and then sometimes you run out of time. We’ve made like 18 albums, so there’s a lot of material to pick from. Favorite songs? “Night Shift” was one of my favorite tunes. I like the way we played on that. That was a really cool tune. “Don’t Run Me Down” – I thought that was a really good tune off of the Night Shift album.

I’d put “Terraplane Blues” on the list.

Yeah. In fact we played that last year. We rehearsed it again this year, but we put three different songs in this year: “Ride, Ride, “Ride,” which I don’t think we’ve played since we recorded it; “Third Time Lucky,” which the band never played. Dave used to play it on piano because Rod couldn’t play it; and another song, so something had to go. But, hmmm, we’re going to be recording this Sunday – “Ride, Ride, “Ride” and “Third Time Lucky,” that’s the only ballad we do. I had a little bit of a time trying to convince the band that we should do a ballad, because I was the one who used to say, “We don’t play no stinking ballads.” [laughs] But we got a request to do “Third Time Lucky,” and it worked out really well. Charlie Huhn, our singer, has a great voice – great guitar player, as well. In my opinion, he does justice to all the songs.

His voice is like a cross between Dave’s and Steve Marriott’s.

Actually, when he joined the band it sounded like Foghat and Humble Pie had joined forces. In fact, we used to tour a lot with Humble Pie, and Dave and I, especially, became real good friends with Stevie. We’d hang out as often as we could with him. He was special, he really was. Stevie Marriott was absolutely brilliant. I’ll tell you a quick story about him. In the early days when Foghat first came over, it was early ’72 I think, and we were doing a lot of dates supporting Humble Pie and/or the J. Geils Band, but I remember this particular one. For some reason – I think it was either Humble Pie’s crew or somebody – they were giving us a hard time about the use of lights and PA, “You can’t have this. You can’t have that.” It was just getting to be a problem, you know, we don’t ever do that to people, no matter who the opening act is. We have our stuff, and it’s like, “Go ahead and have this board and do whatever you’re gonna do.” Anyway we’re having a hard time, I think it was somebody on the crew. Stevie Marriott comes out and says, “Give fucking Foghat anything they fucking want and stop fucking with fucking Foghat. All right?” [laughs] He’s only about 5-feet tall, but he’s a very powerful personality. I love Stevie. Stevie was special.

You’ve mentioned Nick Jameson a few times. He’s always been the silent fifth member of the band, hasn’t he?

That’s correct. He’s kind of the fifth hat. Nick and I are good friends. After he left the band, he had his own band for awhile – he’s been acting for like the last 20 years, I think. He played in the TV series Lost; he was the Russian president in another TV series. He’s had a number of parts in films. Nick’s one of these people who can do everything. I hate him! [laughs] He could pick up any instrument and within moments he’s playing it. I’ll give you an example: He got married about five years ago on the West Coast, and my wife and I went out there, of course. And he decided, two weeks prior to the wedding, that he wanted to play zydeco music on his accordion. He got an accordion and wanted to play zydeco music. And he played at his wedding and he was absolutely brilliant. There were also a lot of drummers at his wedding, but we didn’t have a lot of drums so we raided the kitchen and took out pots and pans, so you’ve got a bunch of people playing on pots and pans and banging on chairs and tables, and Nick’s playing accordion. It was a lot of fun. Nick and I are tight. I’ll give you another example: When we were doing the Fool For The City album – Dave loved tenor sax and alto sax, he loved the saxophone. He always wanted to be a sax player. So when we were on the road, he would carry his sax with him and you would hear Dave practicing in the evenings, which was interesting. [laughs] We had a house, which we all shared, and Dave would be playing his sax in the evenings. Nick would come down and say, “Huh?” So Nick goes out one day and gets one at a pawn shop – I think they had a tenor and an alto – and Dave and Nick were practicing horn parts together. In fact, there was a song that we wrote for that album that never came out. I don’t know what happened to it. It’s called “Going To The Mardi Gras,” and Dave and Nick were playing all the horn parts on it. It was very cool. It’s out there somewhere. There’s a lot of that stuff. But that’s just an example of how talented Nick was: He picks up a horn, and he’s playing horn parts. And in a couple of days we’re doing sessions with him.

How would you describe the early ’80′s version of Foghat? You started making records that sounded more like Nick Lowe. The production was very dry.

I’m gonna blame Dave for that. [laughs] Dave was a big Nick Lowe fan, actually, as was I. You know sometimes music is all about… we had free reign and our own studio for a number of years, as well, right here on Long Island. So we had a chance to… Dave would say, “Let’s play this. Let’s try that.” Some of it was successful, but music’s all about taking chances anyway instead of staying in something you think is safe. I don’t know whether that was such a brilliant career move, but it was what we did. In fact, I thought the Tight Shoes album was a particularly good record. There were some good songs on there.

I really like the cover of “And I Do Just What I Want” from In The Mood For Something Rude. That’s a smokin’ tune.

Now that’s a song I like, “And I Do Just What I Want.” I think that was originally a James Brown tune, but James didn’t play it anything like that. But I particularly liked that version, yeah. It’s fun to play, too. In fact, on our last tour in 1984 that we did together, we used to open with that song. I found a VHS tape the other day of a show that we did in a club called Harpo’s, in Detroit. We did it for a local TV station. Maybe we should put that together and put it out? Anyway, we started out with “And I Do Just What I Want.”

Paul Butterfield was a guest for one tune on Zig-Zag Walk. What are your memories of him?

I used to know Paul when I lived up in Bearsville, back in the early to mid-70s. Nick and I would go down to the barn and we jam with some people from The Band, or Paul Butterfield would be there. I also played with Paul in 1977. We did a tribute to the blues at the New York Palladium. I don’t remember him playing on that album, but I remember jamming with him a number of times. He was a great harp player. It was sad when he died, as well. I think he struggled with a few demons, but he was an incredible player and I loved his East-West and earlier albums. They were just spectacular. Paul was cool.

You have a new live album out, a third official live record. How do you see the band’s legacy as a live act? I think many fans would say that’s where you’re at your best.

The other day I was talking to somebody, and I said, “You know, we’ve been doing this for 50 years. It’s about time we got it right.” [laughs] It’s kind of true, when you play for long enough… actually, let me take you back to when we did the first live album. We were on the road for about a month. Nick Jameson was out with the truck, following us around the northeast. And after each show we would go back into the truck and have a listen to it. Every time I’d go in there, I’d “Jesus. I can’t this fucking fast every time.” We were like punk band. Craig and myself had to sort of put the reins on. At the time, I would take the cassettes from what we played each night and go back to my room, put my headphones on and try to decipher why we’re playing so fast. We really had to pull ourselves back and try to get it into some sort of cohesive musical thing. It was like going down the rails, like a freight train with no brakes. But having said that, I think the first was terrific. I particularly liked our version of “Honey Hush” on there. Craig McGregor is a fabulous bass player and a really good friend – he’s my brother by a different mother. When he first joined the band he had some big boots to fill: Tony Stevens was a terrific bass player. Nick Jameson was probably one of the best musicians I’ve ever had the privilege to play with. So Craig had some pretty big shoes to fill. He’s a very dynamic player. When he comes on the stage and starts playing, the whole stage lights up and everybody has to kind of come up a notch. Having said that, he and I had to work on getting the grooves down. It was interesting.

The first live album was taken from two shows – from Syracuse and Rochester. We were playing War Memorials or something up there, I can’t quite remember, but it was taken from two shows. We had a lot more songs… originally we wanted to do a double album, but our record company or parent company, Warner Brothers, didn’t think that was wise. So that’s why we only got like five songs on the record. [laughs] We were headlining, so we could play for two hours and nobody would complain. But I think it’s gone like double platinum, or something. Maybe they should have let us do a double album? Anyway, that brings me up to the next live album, Live II, back in 2007. Again, we had a chance to just play, and Craig had re-joined the band about a year before that. It was going really well, like there was this spark back in the band. He brought a lot to the band, and I said, “Let’s do a live album.” We re-learned some stuff that we hadn’t played before. I was really pleased with the way that one turned out, even though some of the microphones weren’t working on the drums, but we had room mikes at the front. That was a lot of fun. Did you listen to Foghat Live II?

Oh yeah. That’s got “Terraplane Blues” on it.

Yeah. “Terraplane” was played a little bit too quick, but we’ve got it down; we’ve got a couple more versions of it. We’re gonna put out a blues album, I hope by the end of this year, and we have another version – live version – of “Terraplane Blues” from a show we did, which I’m really pleased with. I’m glad we’re playing that. I love playing that song.

Live II and Live At The Blues Warehouse both have “Chateau Lafitte ’59 Boogie.” That’s another Foghat classic.

Well, myself and Craig both love playing that. Playing shuffles for us is fun. Other than Hank Williams Jr., I don’t know who else plays them. I guess there’s a few people out there who play fast shuffles, but I love playing that stuff.

I want to comment on the first live album. That has an iconic cover, with the cut-out letters and pictures of each band member in the letters. It was also one of the records that made me want to be a drummer. I remember buying that when I was 10 and opening that up and seeing you in your sunglasses and long hair. And there’s one picture – I didn’t understand what was going on the time – but you’re in a hotel, getting dressed beside some woman, and I’m thinking, “Life must be pretty good for that guy.”

[laughs] Yeah, life was good. Life was very good. [laughs] We were having a lot of fun then, and we still do. I still really enjoy playing; I love what I do. I’m one of the fortunate few that get to earn a living doing something I really, really enjoy. And the guys in the band are terrific people. They’re all great players, as you could probably hear on Live II – they can all really play.

You know it’s difficult after you lose somebody of Dave’s caliber and Rod’s ability, especially his ability to play slide guitar. Actually, he and Bryan played together for a number of years with Dave’s band, so it wasn’t like Bryan didn’t know Rod and vice versa. Rod just didn’t like going on the road – that was the reason he left the band in the first place and the second time. I think myself and Dave loved being out on the road; it was a struggle for Rod to sort of enjoy himself out there. I think he was happier just playing blues or teaching, which is what he eventually ended up doing. And I think during the last few years of his life he was happy with that.

He was one of the few guys in rock that consistently played slide guitar throughout his career. There weren’t a lot of bands out there that had such a slide presence.

The Allman Brothers and maybe a few others, but yeah, Rod took it to another level. It was his instrument of choice, playing slide, which he picked up, of course, from all the early blues records. He was a big blues fan, and then he put his own stamp on it.

I’ve always thought his solo on “Stone Blue” is one of the great guitar solos of all time. Did you guys feel like he nailed that one, when he recorded it?

Yeah. He was spectacular. In fact, that was a difficult record to do, but not for any other reason than that the producer was pretty weird. Playing with the band was good fun. We had this huge mansion out on Long Island – the Woolworth mansion – and there was a big music room in there, with a big pipe organ. We set the drums up in there, and again we had a big room so there’s some pretty cool drum sounds on there. I think I used my old Slingerland Radio King kit from the ’40s on that, which was interesting. I like recording.

Like I said, we have a house down in Florida now, and we’re gonna start recording next winter – next January, February, March – start recording our next studio album, after we finish the blues record. We’ve got nine songs already, and we just want to do two more.

The reason I got into this in the beginning was to be creative, to make music. I’m just fortunate that I earn a decent living at it.

It’s a pretty good life.

Yeah. I know that. And I get to fish, as well. [laughs]

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Adam Levy of The Honeydogs interview

The Honeydogs (Adam Levy, front/center)

One of the biggest cliches in the music business is “best-kept secret.” But when it comes to the Minnesota-based band The Honeydogs, the cliché is true. For more than 15 years, the ‘dogs have built a loyal fan base across the upper Midwest, who were drawn initially to the band’s country rock efforts. Over time, the band has evolved into a melody-making rock machine, and began garnering serious critical acclaim with 2003′s epic 10,000 Years, a concept album about a test-tube kid who goes from criminal to possible savior, in the midst of wars, genocide and other horrific acts of man. If that doesn’t sound like the usual rock fare, it’s because chief songwriter and vocalist Adam Levy isn’t your songwriter du jour. He’s not afraid to sing about the dark side or bring together musical styles as disparate as bossa nova and funk, R&B and J.S. Bach. And he’s one of this generation’s great writer of melodies, following the footsteps of Elton John, Brian Wilson and, yes, Lennon & McCartney.

The Honeydogs’ latest release – the six-song EP Sunshine Committee – finds Levy and bandmates getting back to roots and having a ball doing it. It’s a collection of songs that’s sure to leave listeners wanting more, and that’s just how Levy likes it.

Classic Rock Music Blog spoke to Levy about his musical background, songwriting influences, Sunshine Committee and more.

Your music draws from a wide range of influences. Did you collect records growing up?

My parents didn’t really have a gigantic collection – they had a handful of records – but they got  big airplay. Everything they had made a big impact on me. They had a copy of Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass – “Tijuana Taxi” – and I can’t tell you how much that record has entered into my consciousness. It might not sound like it in my music, but chord changes, melody – that stuff was just in my blood. The Beatles’ Rubber Soul, of course. There was a Charlie Parker record that we listened to constantly. We had a Bach fugue for the piano, record, that got played a lot. But they didn’t have like a lot of records – they just played those. And I listened to AM radio growing up, and I think the wonder of AM radio in the late 1960s and ’70s was the amazing diversity of musical styles that were in pop radio, at least for a long period of time. You’d get something that sounded kind of country, and something that was R&B, and something that was British Invasion-sounding – everything side by side – so it was like this cool soup of music that I grew up with. I really say AM radio, more than anything, as a kid, probably shaped my musical tastes.

And then I got introduced to KISS by a friend, and then I wanted to be a rock musician after that. Then another friend came over a couple months later – his father had died a couple years earlier – the most meaningful thing he got from his dad was his dad’s record collection, which was primarily ’60s records, everything from Frank Zappa to Hendrix, Beach Boys, Beatles and Stones. He brought over to my  house the whole Beatles’ catalog – or at that time in 1977, all the major-type releases, Capitol and Apple releases. So we sat there one night – in an overnight – and we listened to virtually every record. I think if you listen to every Beatles’ song  it takes like 10 hours – you could travel across the Atlantic Ocean and listen to the whole Beatles’ collection, or something. So we got pretty close; we stayed up into the twilight hours and listened to all of that music, and a lot of the songs I’d never heard before. I’d heard some of the hits on the radio as a kid, but it was the frickin’ clouds opened up. And after that, it was over. I went and got every Beatles’ record I could get. With every job that I had I started buying Rolling Stones’ records, and then it was The Who and Hendrix and Bob Dylan, and just went through the whole kind of pantheon of great singers/songwriters/rock musicians of the ’60s. And, of course, I discovered the punk rock stuff, and The Clash and Elvis Costello. I got into soul – Sly & The Family Stone, James Brown, Aretha Franklin. I went to college and just kept collecting, so I’ve got a pretty sizable record collection – great classical stuff, jazz and lots of rock stuff. I also inherited from my wife’s late grandfather, his country collection, which was a really big record collection of mostly ’60s country records. So, that’s my story in a nutshell as far as my musical upbringing.

After being exposed to all those types of music, if you were to teach a songwriting course, what records or artists would be required listening for your students?

I teach a songwriting class now, so I get to kind of tell them who I think, in my canon is at least, on the list of great songwriters. I’d say the absolute, you can’t really understand the history of songwriting – popular songwriting – without this group of songwriters would be Burt Bacharach, Jimmy Webb, Neil Young, Bob Dylan – of course – Lennon/McCartney, Elvis Costello, Holland/Dozier/Holland, Randy Newman, Harry Nilsson, Merle Haggard and Hank Williams. There’s just so many.

Jimmy Webb is a guy who sort of hides in the shadow, but look at the songs he’s written.

Right, I know. He wrote a great book on songwriting, which has sort of become canonized – by folks that teach songwriting classes – because it’s so amazing. I just feel like the guy – whether or not you like or agree with his sort of formulaic description of how songwriting is done – but the way he talks about music, he’s just so passionate about it. And, yeah, he’s written some brilliant, beautiful pieces of music.

It’s one thing to be influenced by The Beatles – you can listen to Beatles’ records over and over again – but it’s another to actually write memorable melodies. How do you continually come up them?

I think that melody is probably the most important thing for me. I guess, in some ways, I consider myself sort of an evolved lyricist. I think at one point I just wrote things that were really simple that just meant something to me that I knew would communicate with people, just because they were so basic. Over time, I think there’s become a greater degree of subtlety in how I write lyrics. But I think the thing I probably feel the strongest about, or put the most work into, is crafting – I hate that word – just creating melodies, singing melodies that are memorable. Things I like that feel good coming out of your body, you know? There are some melodies that just – there’s a kind of harmonic convergence between the sentiment that you’re singing and the chords that you’re playing and the melody, and it’s just like, almost transcendental. I wouldn’t say that about every song I’ve wrote, but there’s like a few songs where there’s this feeling that you have like, “How the hell did that happen? It wasn’t me.” It’s sort of like you’re channeling. A lot of times there is kind of like a trance state that I get into, and I’m sure that other songwriters do, too, where you lose touch with time when you’re coming up with melodic ideas – at least I do. Sometimes it takes a while to find them, but then you just get into this trance state, and it’s like, “Wow!” Time and space and everything else disappears, and nobody can disturb you; nobody can get your attention – you’re just so in the moment.

I would assume that you were in the trance when writing “Last War Lullaby”? I think that song has some of your strongest melodies and musical ideas. It has a starkness but yet a beauty about it.

That certainly wasn’t a song that I wrote in one sitting, but I’d say that’s a song that I spent a lot of time in the conceptual stage, thinking, “How can you create a sonic landscape for war when you’ve never experienced it? How can you create something that’s compelling and at once beautiful, but also telling a pretty dark tale about human behavior? How do you do that without romanticizing it or something?” So, yeah, that’s a song I feel very proud of, how it turned it. That was one of those songs where the band just couldn’t even imagine – when I tried to play it on guitar for them – they’re like, “I don’t get it. What is this beast?” And so, as you can probably imagine, recording it was painstaking, but I think the results turned out good. It was one of those songs that was in my head, you know? It didn’t matter that I couldn’t really do it, physically, myself. I heard this going on, so…

Do you have a go-to guitar or a place to escape when you’re struggling with a musical idea?

I don’t have one particular spot. I do have a backyard now with an amazing garden. The gentleman who is renting me his place, he’s a professional urban landscaper, and so now I’ve got this almost Asian garden in the middle of the city. It just feels like I’m in some other place – that really gets me out of my head in a way that just sitting… because most of the time when I’m writing music, I can do it anywhere. I could be sitting on my bed; I could be sitting at the kitchen table, which is usually the most comfortable place to do it – or the couch, or whatever. I never thought about this really, but I think there’s different stages of the songwriting process when I tend to go to certain places to work on something. I’m not gonna sit on the couch and work on lyrics. I’m gonna sit on the couch and sort of lay back and come up with chord ideas and melodies. When I really want to start writing words down, I gotta get into that, sort of, getting-the-work-done position – in a chair, where you’ve got a pen in hand. I tried to write with computers – I’ll usually handwrite stuff and then I’ll go and write on the computer when it starts coming together, but I haven’t been able to compose well on a computer. So I’m pretty old school in that regard.

Your music has a lot of major 7th chords, going back to Seen A Ghost, I suppose. You obviously like that sound?

Yeah. I think probably the first song where I discovered that type of chord was “Your Blue Door,” from the second record, and I think I use it once on the very first record. But I realized the beauty of it – I didn’t really understand where I was getting it from, but then I started listening to a lot of Burt Bacharach and realized that’s kind of the beauty of his music – that really uplifting, kind of jazz palette-y sound.

You’ve often said that music is something you can’t stop doing. Pete Seeger recently released an album at 89 years of age. Can you imagine such musical longevity for yourself?

I do. I don’t know what it’s going to look like or sound like, but I’ve been doing it long enough now where I can’t imagine saying, “OK. I wrote my best song. Now I’m done.” There are people who dial it in at a certain point – their accomplishments have been so great that it’s all downhill for them. It doesn’t matter. They’ve had the accolades and the money – they’ve had this incredible life experience – so the drive to better what they’ve done and their art form isn’t so primal. I feel like I haven’t written my best song yet – I don’t always think, “OK. Now I’m gonna sit down and write my best song,” but I always know that I can do better. People have their favorite records, but I feel confident in saying that we’ve kind of pushed ourselves with each record to do something a little differently. Whether it’s constructing a melody or the way the phrasing happens or how I use my voice – whatever. That’s the exciting thing to me, to keep the ball moving.

Is there one Honeydogs’ song you feel best articulates your songwriting philosophy?

They’re all my babies, and some of them I like maybe a little bit more than others. But I guess, you asked about “Last War Lullaby,” that’s a song that seems to encapsulate a lot of different facets of what I like to do.

Tell me about recording Sunshine Committee at IPR (Institute of Production and Recording). You brought some of the students in to see how the recording process works and to help, too.

I was given the opportunity to teach a class in audio production – they call it the Capstone class, which is like a senior thesis. Students come in, and they get a real recording environment where they get to be a part of something. The instructors who get to do the class, get to pick whatever they want to do. They told me, “Do whatever you want. Record a Honeydogs’ record.” And I said, “You’re kidding me? You’re paying me to do this?” It’s like, is this a job or a heist? There were a lot of questions that the band had, because I was in the instructing position there was a sense that… I hadn’t really directed traffic with The Honeydogs in the past. I think I had from a musical and arrangement level, but not like mic-ing and all that kind of stuff, so it really kind of put me in the helm. The good thing was – there were a lot of things I didn’t really understand – I had a good engineer helping me in the classes I was teaching. The students were cream of the crop. Most importantly, was Peter Anderson, the drummer, has become a pretty amazing engineer and, I would say, producer. His ears are fantastic. He’s a great musician. And he’s just worked in some really high-pressure situations and knows now how to do things. I’d say Peter, in a lot of ways, taught the class as much as I did.

The class was on Friday, so we would do like a six-hour session. It always took like two hours to set up, and then you’d try a track for a few hours. Oftentimes, I didn’t even know what we were going to record when we got to school that day. A lot of these songs I was just finishing writing, so I just thought, “What the hell. The band has always operated best when they didn’t have a lot of time to digest material.” And it’s because they’re really good; everyone has really good first instincts – it’s infinitely more interesting to me to listen back to a record a few years later where you remember you actually shaped this whole thing in the studio. It wasn’t like a prefabricated thing that you beat into submission and then basically recorded this stiff thing. It’s like the studio allowed it to unfold and things that nobody thought possible happened, by accident.

There’s a lot going on in these songs, and you really got the mix and balance between the instruments right. And the vocals sound live, to the point where your breathing can be heard in spots. Did you notice that playing the record back?

Yeah. I think we spent a lot of time finding the right microphones, and as you become more comfortable with your vocal – there wasn’t a huge amount of comping going on in vocals. There were just times when I would do a take and it was on the right microphone, and we would just keep as much intact as we could.

As far as the overall mix, that’s all John Fields. He was so good and so quick with this stuff. I think he labored over a few of them, but he’s just gotten so good over time – his instincts are so great – plus, he understands me as a songwriter, and he understands what makes my voice sound good. Even if we had great microphones – a lot of times we had the rough mixes – I was like, “Geez, this just isn’t working,” and we’d give it to Fields. It would come back, and it was like a beauty makeover or something – you wouldn’t recognize it. It was just little, tiny things that he does that are so aurally significant.

You said the guys in the band didn’t have a lot of time to assimilate the songs before they were recorded. How much leeway do you give them to come up with their own parts and run with them?

On this one, a lot. I did demo all these songs out, and that’s how I write now. I don’t like to just play them on acoustic guitar. There will still be some songs that I don’t have everything fleshed out, but I like to sit down and write the song and have some sort of drum thing going, and bass, just to give me more of a sense of the completeness. Sometimes they’ll take my ideas, and sometimes they’ll re-fashion them into something completely different. Frankly, the ones where my mark was least noticeable in performance were the best ones.  And I really think this record, more than – in Amygdala, I thought it started really happening – but now, I love what other people are doing, without having to direct traffic and all, you know. That’s the fun thing, and part of that I would argue has to do with the fact that most of us are in a cover band – just a sort of “bowling night, fun band” that’s turned into a bit of a cash cow called Hookers And Blow. In that band we get to play, I would say, a lot of the blueprint songs that have influenced me as a songwriter, and just the great soul music. And everybody’s gotta learn some pretty intense stuff on these songs, you know? They’re harmonically complex; they’re songs that a lot of other people wouldn’t try to cover, and that’s sort of why Hookers And Blow is so fun: We just take some of the masterpieces… it makes everybody have to be pretty darn good – to hear the subtleties of these parts. We don’t replicate them like a museum or anything; we certainly do our own thing with them, but we try to keep the original model intact.

The song “Stash” has a lot of different grooves going on. That one sounds like it would be tough to get right. Some great drumming, too.

Yes. That was one, as I recall, Trent [Norton], our bass player couldn’t make it to the recording, and [keyboardist] Peter Sands couldn’t make it. So, we just sort of rocked, me and Peter Anderson – guitar and drums. It’s got a kind of bluesy, old rock, ’60s feel. And we just laid it down, just the two of us. Then all the other stuff kind of got stuck on top of it – the horns, the clavinet. It sort of feels like a cross between Sly & The Family Stone and Rubber Soul, or something.

Continuing with influences, the title track reminds me of Exile On Main St.-era Stones meets Big Star.

Wow! That’s great. Those are two bands that were huge influences on me. That song, though, was a different animal when I brought it in. I just played acoustic guitar. There wasn’t any of the electric guitar stuff on it; there wasn’t any idea of horns being on it. That one – just because of the sort of jam we did on it – I think it was just me, Trent and Peter Anderson, on drums. At its most basic form, it almost sounded like a late Velvet Underground song – that was sort of the direction we were gonna go. But then you add in a few electric guitars and horns, and before you know it, it’s like this soul/rock tune  that, yeah, it could have been an outtake from that era of The Rolling Stones or The Faces, or something.

“Fiber Optic Paramour” has a very strange effect, like a haunted choir, going on at the beginning. Was that some sort of keyboard wizardry?

It is. That’s a Chamberlain, a real one, which was an old, ’60s, one of the early sampling devices. That would be the choral voices. In fact, I think we layered like men’s choral, female choral and maybe even a children’s choral voice thing. I just wanted that chorus to open up, like the skies were opening up, just trying to convey that lyric.

“Balaclava” has what I call an Adam Levy-ism, where you often accent the last word in a line. I don’t really hear that from other singers. Is that something you consciously do?

Wow. Yeah, I guess there’s almost a slight dipping of the note on there. I wasn’t even aware I was doing it.

The first guitar solo on “Levers, Pulleys & Pumps” sounds like a charging elephant. What’s the story behind that?

[laughs] That’s an apt description. It was kind of an elephant charging around. That was Brian Halverson plugged into an organ speaker called a Leslie, which is where that Doppler-rotating speaker that – I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s like a helicopter taking off.

It’s sounds like something Adrian Belew would do.

Sure. Sure.

My only complaint about Sunshine Committee is that we just get six songs, and they’re six of the best songs the band has done. It’s got a great vibe to it.

Well thank you. That’s nice to hear. I think we – there’s a lot of other material right now, and the thought was… we approached this from two different directions. One was, if we make this really big record with all of these different sounds and angles, it might just be too much. Sometimes things get lost in that environment. One thing that’s unified the last couple records with The Honeydogs was just stylistically – I like to try on different hats and go to different places, and sometimes you lose people from that. It’s never deterred me from doing it, but I just thought, “What if we did this batch of tunes that just seem to be a bit more cohesive at some level?” And those six songs all sort of work together. These other ones that I’ve got are kind of in another realm.

Thematically or musically?

I think musically. I think they’re a little different structurally, and I just wasn’t ready to flesh them out yet. It seemed easier to take songs that I brought to the band and everybody came up with really cool parts easily. There wasn’t, really, a huge amount of labor that went into these songs. They’re kind of economical in a lot of ways – there are a few little curve balls that we throw in there – but it just feels like our straightforward rock. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just like embarking on something that’s a little more ambitious. I just wanted to give it enough sensitivity, and so I thought, Well, this will be a fun, little tease – do a short LP, and then we’ll hit them over the head with something different later.”

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Stu Cook – Jackdawg’s lost album finally released

Jackdawg

For nearly 40 years, Stu Cook has been anchoring bands with his bass playing and harmony singing. From his time with the legendary Creedence Clearwater Revival to the country-tinged Southern Pacific to Cook’s current project with former Creedence drummer Doug Clifford titled Creedence Clearwater Revisited, Cook has remained an active and vital member on the music scene.

It was Cook’s affinity for country music that brought him together with Doobie Brothers’ members guitarist John McFee and drummer Keith Knudsen, as the three were part of Southern Pacific in the 1980s. The musical and personal chemistry were strong enough to survive the band’s eventual dissolution, and as the next decade was ushered in, Cook, McFee and Knudsen were writing together again – this time in a decidedly rock and roll context.

The trio, at the time going by the name Jackdaw, recorded 15 songs and shopped them around but found no takers, and so the songs sat in McFee’s studio vaults for years – a “lost” album with no conceivable future. In 2005, another severe blow was dealt when Knudsen lost his life after battling pneumonia. Since Knudsen’s death, McFee  resurrected the Jackdaw recordings, remixed them and found a label (Sonic Past) for its very belated release. The self-titled Jackdawg (name change explained later) is a mix of swampy and gritty rock, sunny pop and laden with terrific three-part harmonies. Nearly 20 years later, the “lost” album is found.

ClassicRockMusicBlog spoke with Cook about Jackdawg and how the project came about.

Stu Cook

I want to discuss the Jackdawg release, but I want to back up a little bit. You and Keith Knudson and John McFee had a run for several years in Southern Pacific. What first brought the three of you together?

Well, it was Southern Pacific that brought us playing together.  I had known John McFee for many years from the early days of Creedence.  Actually, he was in a band called Clover.  Clover had such notorious alumnuses.  Huey Lewis, Sean Hopper, from Huey’s band.  And they were just one of the best musical outfits playing around the Bay Area from North Bay, Marin County.  Actually, I did some production work with them before they moved to England…they were actually on Fantasy Records with Creedence.

And I thought they deserved a better label.  Did some production work with them.  I guess they weren’t ready.  Anyway, they went to England and ended up working with Elvis Costello.  And they were the band on Elvis’s debut album, My Aim is True, and played on “Alison,” and all those breakout songs for Elvis Costello.  And eventually came back to the States and John joined the Doobie Brothers.  And Keith had already been in the Doobs.  So, John played with them for several years till they broke up and they were hanging around and I got involved doing this project Southern Pacific with Jim Ed Norman producing back in Nashville.  Actually, most of the recording was done out in John’s place in California.  Same studio we recorded “Jackdawg” in.  The original bass player and keyboard player were from Elvis’ band, Jerry Scheff on bass and Glen D.  Hardin on keyboards, they were the original guys in Southern Pacific.

So, when the album was recorded they decided they didn’t want to be part of the band, permanently…didn’t want to tour, ya know?  And so, those guys started looking for replacements and John thought of me, and so I ended up in that band.  And we did four albums for Warner Brothers.  At the end of that project is when we decided that we…we had been playing so much we thought we’d try and do something, the three of us. Just following our own musical instincts.  Ya know, writing, playing, producing, singing, ya know, doing all the stuff in more of a rock and roll format.

Was there a specific musical ground that brought you guys together in Southern Pacific. Were you guys Bob Wills fans? Did you think country music was cool when you were growing up?

Yeah.  John McFee’s first music, I think, was country music.  He’s a virtuoso on just about all instruments country -  pedal steel, dobro, fiddle…he’s an amazing fiddle player – mandolin.  So, that was his original roots, and Southern Pacific was more of a Bakersfield, kind of a country rock project.  I guess Creedence had its share of country-flavored influences.  If not hard-core country and rockabilly but… It was just sort of the chemistry that was the result of putting us all together kind of gave Southern Pacific its musical feel or direction.  And then when that band packed it in we decided that we enjoyed playing together so much that we’d just keep doing it.

It almost seems that Southern Pacific was kind of out of step with what was happening musically because right when you broke up, the alt-country scene started to take off.

Well, a lot of bands, ya know, Diamond Rio…a lot of other bands started to become real successful after we broke up.  It was us and Restless Heart, we were about the only two real new bands…I don’t count Alabama as a real band or certainly not a new band in country music.  Ya know, the guys that actually wrote and played their own stuff.  It was us and Restless Heart.  There was a…I can’t think of him, the band that Chris Hillman had.

Oh yeah.  Playing with J.D. Souther?

No, he had a country band.  We did a tour with him actually I can’t think of the name, but Chris Hillman was the lead singer, ya know, the guy from the Birds.

Desert Rose Band was what it was.

Desert Rose, there you go!  Thanks.  We did a tour, we called it the Hayride To Hell Tour.  We played a bunch of shows with them, they are great guys.  I can’t think of really any other bands that were playing the same time that Southern Pacific…’85-’90.  It was right after us when all the other bands started to become successful.  So we sort of paved the way for them, ya know, we introduced earrings and spurs to country music.  We had a goodtime but it wasn’t meant to be.  Warner Bros. never really supported us; I don’t think they understood what was going on at the time.  So, ya know, a lot of projects end up like that.  But, again, the fun that we had making music together which is what lead to the next phase…

Is there a story behind the name of the band, Jackdawg?

Ha-ha.  Yeah, we had many many names.  Ya know, naming a band is harder than naming a child.  Cause the critics aren’t going to second guess how you named your child.  But they’ll sure go after you how you came up with a name.  If it’s more or less suitable for you or someone else.  But we didn’t really have a working name, we called it, “John McFee And The Men With No Hair.”  We had all kinds of…they were really stupid names for the band.  We were called “Beach Street” for a while, but then we decided to change it to something that didn’t really have a musical connotation.  We changed it to “Jackdaw,” which is a bird…a species of bird.  That was cool…ya know, what’s in a name?  It’s all about the music.  Creedence Clearwater Revival can prove that.

Sure.

This project that sat in the vaults for 18 plus years.  So, when we get around to doing something with it we find out there’s already a band named “Jackdaw” right now.  So, we said, “well, lets take it down to the street corner.” And we figured, well you know, there’s a Snoop Dogg.  Now there’s going to be a Jackdawg.  It had been so long since we took a look or listen to this stuff that when John says, “What about if we call it ‘Jackdawg’ I think we can get that name cleared.” We said, “that’s great, let’s not spend anymore time picking around with it.”  It’s great that the music is going to get a release and people are going to be able to hear it.  We always felt it was worth a good listen or two.

What was it like to hear these songs again after so many years?

Ya know, they sounded great.  I’ve had a collection of the demo mixes for many years and every once in a while I would pull it out and take a listen.  And I go, “ya know, some of our best work….” My best work, some of John’s…for all of us, we were really playing and all of our output was pretty high level.  Ya know, “wow”, too bad that didn’t ever get out.  We were close a couple times, we had a manager, fortunately, we has very supportive and he had a lot of good input.  Unfortunately, he passed away.  And the industry was kind of taking a turn at the time, they were going more to dance music in the early ’80s.  So, we sort of fell in the cracks.  But now, when I hear this stuff, I hear the mixes that John put on, I’m going, “wow, this stuff sounds great.”  There’s a lot there, a whole lot there.  We’re all real proud of the work we did.  It’s a shame Keith can’t see all this unfold but he’s probably watching.

To your ear, did John do much with the original mixes or did he just kind of enhance them?

Well, he put them in a state that made them sound like a finished product.  Before they were just good mixes, now they sound like Hot Masters to me.  He pumped it put a bit.  It was a learning process for him along the way.  What would best suit. It’s like, even with 18 years lapsed, we were still too close to this stuff.  It took a long time to really sort out what represented getting the most out of it.  I think that a lot of the work was recognizing that was still more to go.  There was more to bring out.  It took him a while to get bold enough.  To go too far with it and then say, “OK, that’s too much, maybe we dial it back a bit and see what we think about it.” Spend some time reflecting on it and listening to it.  So yeah, I’m extremely happy with the way John and Joey at Sonic Past has pretty much just let us go at it and giving us total control.

You mentioned that you had kind of just wanted to let your instincts go with this, as far as the music and the writing.  To me, it sounds like a basic roots, rock and roll album.

Thanks.  That’s all it was.  You know what we did? We sat down after Southern Pacific broke up and we were trying to get a heading just for us, to start working together.  So I think finally John just said, “Look, we’ve probably got 50 years or more of experience between the three of us. We should try and pay attention to our own instincts when we do this.  And trust them.”  What I hear in a lot of these songs, I hear some of our favorite songs from when we were kids, our favorite styles of music.

So, there’s an unintentional, but welcomed derivativeness in a lot of this stuff, to me.  Because we let our roots come as close to the surface as we could without the famed tradition of over borrowing, ha-ha, ya know?  “Paying tribute” I guess we call it.  We tried things a lot of different ways and we didn’t have some kind of rigid rulebook.  And so were able to go, “ya know, let’s try this.” If somebody had an idea, we would try it.  We would try all the ideas and really give each one a shot so that we would have a feeling.  That when we picked one, that all possibilities that we could come up with had been explored and given a chance.  And hopefully we felt that we had picked the best of ideas to incorporate them.  It was a most kind of communal or open band situation I can recall being in.  We were up at John’s house and we would live up there for three or four days a week and work on this stuff.  And then come home on the weekends, he would stay home of course, but Keith and I would commute back to Los Angeles where we were both living at the time.  So, we kind of lived it everyday.  We would get up and we’d listen to what we did, and see what could be better, what new ideas had occurred.  You know, we talked about it all the time, we’d work on the lyrics.

Sounds kind of like an approach that bands have when they are 18 and are working on their first record.

Well, ya know, and some of the songs kind of reflect…I’m 63.  And so when I listen to this stuff now, say 20 years ago, 19 years ago…We were in our 40s but even with the writing we tried to approach it as not jaded veterans.  We wanted to try and have a…like you said, like a first band kind of enthusiasm, care.  The way we approached subjects, even though we were adults with adult responsibilities, we tried to find the child in us still, so that we could try and look at it through our younger eyes. And there was a conscious and unconscious effort to try and get back to the excitement that we felt when we first got into the recording studio when we were 20 years younger.

I absolutely hear that.  To me, the record has an optimism and a happiness about it.  It just sounds like you guys are having a blast.

I’m glad you sense that.  We were.  We had something to prove the after 5 years of Southern Pacific with almost success and a lot of critical acclaim and the struggles of a band that the record company didn’t know what to do with.  Although, they gave us quarter million dollar budgets.  We ended up almost a million dollars in the hole.  Ha-ha, ya know?  That project could have been, Southern Pacific could have been successful, more successful than it was let’s say.  Ya know, we just felt kind of unfinished working together.  So, that’s when we really tried to get in and strip ourselves back, our way of thinking about the business back.  Gee, ya know, this is music, it should be fun, we should be excited about this stuff.  If we’re not, who else can we expect to be? Honestly, if we’re not enthused enough to come to keep working on this stuff and not be turd polishing, but really believe it.

So, we ended up with…actually there are 16 songs.  There’s going to be a re-release next month with a 16th song…one more song that we had found, that we had recorded and finished. So yeah, that’s all that there is.  Somebody said they would have loved to hear us play some of this stuff live after listening to it and feeling the fun.

Yeah, absolutely.

Sometimes I sit down and I go, “what did I play there?” Ya know, I try and teach myself those bass parts again just at the off possibility that John and I and someone who understands it could come play it live some night, ya know?

Did you ever change your approach to bass when playing with different groups?

Yeah, I think I have.  And largely because it’s always been my take on the role of the bass player.  And particularly the rhythm section.  Bass and drums, you really gotta serve the song.  So, If you have a song that needs or can benefit from more notes, then you should probably write a part that accomplishes that, but if you have a song that doesn’t then by all means stick to the minimal part, ya know, what works.  It’s a pretty traditional approach for guys from my era, ya know, the whole rhythm and blues and country.  Those songs always seem to have great arrangements.  Ya know, the real popular ones, the real successful ones have killer arrangements, and that’s because everybody is playing their part for the whole.

And so, because we were a guitar trio pretty much…we supplemented some stuff, ya know, doubling and stuff…but basically all the tracks are cut live.  So, we knew what the song was and it gave us a little more room to play and so it’s probably some of the more ambitious bass playing of my career.  In terms of playing a lot of notes and trying to find more driving parts, well parts that are less supportive and more up front, ya know?  I don’t think I have done that in any other project, at least to this extent.  And this is project where John McFee really gets to shine as a guitarist and step up front in the spotlight as a singer.  And Keith pounded it out as always.  I’ve been fortunate… lucky Stu, he’s played with two of the best drummers ever in the business – with Cosmo’s Clifford and Keith Knudson.

Keith told me this story once, it was early on with the Doobie Brothers, I think John Hartman was the other drummer at the time, they always had double drummers. Hartman was giving an interview or something and he told the writer that he was the lead drummer.  And Keith responds, “That’s right, and I’m the rhythm drummer.”  Hahira.  And boy was he ever.  That guy could play and play and play.  And his ideas were strong and he was a hard player.  We had some fun, ya know, we had fun with Southern Pacific, too.  We got to rock those songs out too. It was a great run working with him.

Not to jump off the subject but it sure seems like so many of your contemporaries have died over the last five years or so. It’s just been stunning how many people in that kind of mid-50s age group have lost a battle with something or another.

It’s sort of young isn’t it?

Yeah.

My way of thinking -  I’d like to get another good 20.

Absolutely.  One of things…I mean you were talking earlier about influences and one of the things that struck me about this record was how well the three of your harmonized together.  To me, the song “Kisses In The Rain,” sort of sounds like the Beach Boys. And I mean that in the most positive way because it’s one thing to try to sound like them but to be able to pull off those harmonies is a totally different story.

Well, the Doobie Brothers was a real singing band, there’s a lot of vocals.  And Southern Pacific was a singing band too.  I learned so much about singing and blending in a background group as a harmony singer.  From John and Kurt How, who was the keyboard player, one of the lead singers in Southern Pacific.  That was real education for me because Credence was a totally different band, it was run by one guy who had a very narrow concept of how things had to be done.  And when I got in Southern Pacific it was like, “whoa, wait a minute.  Everybody here seems to be trying to get the most out of each other.” Ya know? It was sort of a catchy thing.  “Try singing it this way.” Guys would give you constructive criticism.  And you go, “Oh yeah, that rocks.  That makes it.”  And so, the five years I spent in that band really helped me sing in tune and breathing, phrasing, all that stuff.  Where you cut off a note, and stuff like that, that makes it sound tight.

Another song that I really like, vocally, is “Quicksand.”

Yeah. That’s one of my favorite tunes.  Ya know, we just sat down and we’d sit around in the studio and play it over and over and over, and just try these parts out and then we’d have them pretty well worked out.  Then we’d just go out and sing them, and record them.  And then double them.  Keith and I would be out there with the headphones, ya know, just on the other side of the glass John would be rowing the machine.  We’d bring the controller out…we were doing a three part thing, John would be singing it with us.  We would just bring the controller out into the recording studio and just run the machine from the other room.  Yeah, stuff like that, it was like, “man, we are working on a project here.” It was extremely exciting, and of course, when we had to put it on the shelf it was like, “Whoa, who let the air out of our balloon?”  Everybody would say, “Well, I guess it’s time to go to work and pay the bills.”

I would imagine that when you got done with this you probably were thinking that there were several potentials for a single off of here.

Yeah.

There’s certainly plenty of…not to use the term in a derogatory fashion, but there’s plenty of ear candy on here.

Absolutely.  People I’ve played it for…I get a few tunes that are kind of consensus tunes, but quickly goes into everybody liking very different songs.  So, depending on who you talk to, there’s a couple songs that they kind of agree upon, but then it quickly goes into most of the rest of the disc in terms of songs that seem to appeal in one way or another to different folks.

It’s a very varied section of music too. It kind of runs the gambit of different styles.

Yeah, it does.  That’s our eclectic…We did this without any kind of…we paid no attention to what might be a single.  We would say, well, “Bayou Rebel,” that sounds sort of Creedence-y.  John and I wrote that.  A guy who used to work for us lived down in Bay Minette, Alabama, which is sort of a bayou kind of environment.  So, we kind of wrote the song about him and him growing up.  And we kind of gave it a guitar-y, Creedence-y, kind of thing.  Ya know, why not?  And then, we went into….the next tune was my favorite, “Where The Sun Don’t Shine.”  We started out just kind of a…it ended up into a kind of a giant production of blues guitar, horn.  It was tough.  It’s like, “Wow, what can we put on this one?” like ear candy. “Yeah, that would be cool, let’s do some horns there.”  Now, I gotta write a horn part.  Spend a few days working on that, getting the sounds.  It was a very organic process.

Did you guys decide that…I mean were the cover tunes intended originally to be part of the album or was that just something that you recorded, just maybe, or what was your idea behind that?

Yeah, well they were all part of it, yeah, absolutely.  The Rocky Erikson tune was a favorite of all three of hours.  I actually produced the original version of that for Rocky when he was on the TEO, it came out on CBS UK, back in ’89 or something like that.  I can’t remember. No, it was ’81…yeah, ’81 or ’82 when I did that stuff.  And so, that was a favorite that we thought we’d try our hand at that.  “Wild Nights,” McFee played pedal steel on the original Van Morrison track.  So, we thought, “well, there’s a good one.”  When we started to record it, we couldn’t for the life of us understand what the lyrics were that Van Morrison was singing.

Ha-ha, OK.

That was really before the Internet.  So there was no place to Google, there were no Web sites.  It took us about two weeks to come up with the lyrics between listening and listening and listening and writing them down and trying to decipher what would make sense.  And going to listen to other people’s versions.  And I remember I thought, “Well, wow, this is really a rockin’ version of a Van Morrison tune.”  I thought that was a really strong cover, well actually, both of those covers are strong.

Yeah.  I think both of them work out real nice.

Thank you.

It was interesting, too, because…ya know, you’re talking about John playing on that Van Morrison track, and I had read an interview with Van from probably right before that album was put out and he was talking about his country influences and had actually mentioned Clover as one of his favorite bands out of the west coast.  At a time when, honestly, nobody knew who they were really.

Absolutely, yeah.  I remember they did two albums on Fantasy.  And it was just a shame that they were on that label with us.  That whole label thing was not good for anybody, but, that’s just the way it was.

How did you guys hook up with Sonic Past, and what are your feelings about that?

Well, we go back to Clover. Sound City Studios – down in Studio City I think it is – in Los Angeles. The guy who owned Sound City was the guy who was managing us before he died, a guy named Joe.  Anyways, the vaults are full of tapes and Clover had apparently done some recording down there.  Joey had acquired the rights to all the master tracks that were in the vaults there.  And then he went about contacting the artist and making agreements with the artists so that he could release them on Sonic Past. Well, Clover was one of them and that’s how we got in touch with…and so McFee and Joey got put together.  After they got the Clover sessions mixed and released, John said and Joey said, “Hey, you got anything else?”  “As a matter of fact we got over an hour’s worth of stuff that Keith and Stu and I did.”

Cool.

Yeah.  There was no real intent, there was no master plan.  Things just kind of work out in their own time and place.  In a different city.

I guess the good news is that it is out.  Like you said, it would have been great for Keith to be a part of this.

Absolutely.  Well, if Keith knew how good it was…whenever we reminisce a lot of times…Doug, Clifford, and I have been playing for 15 years with Creedence Clearwater Revisited. And we play a lot of shows with the Doobies.  And so we have had a lot of opportunity over the last dozen years or so to talk about these tracks and…We never really knew if they would come out but we knew they were good enough to.  That’s all we really needed to know.

Yeah. Do you know Levon Helm from The Band?

Oh, sure.

Well, he’s been doing a series of concerts up in…I guess he’s got a barn up in Woodstock, New York,  and even inviting some musicians in and basically people pay to kind of go have this back woods music jam with him and whoever may play.  And I was just thinking it’d be kind of cool for…that would be a perfect venue for you and John to do something like this in.

Yeah.  That sounds like a really good idea.  It’s interesting, the guy that’s drumming for the Doobies now, Ed Toth, said that, “if you guys ever want to go play this stuff, I’ll learn the songs and go play with you.”

Cool.

Yeah, so we’re both really busy with our lives…John doing the Doobs and me with Cosmo, traipsing around the country and in our case, the world.  We travel a lot internationally to play every year.  But sometime, if it’s to be, it would certainly be a lot of fun, I know that.

Cool. Well, listen Stu I appreciate your time. It always boggles my mind how much…how these projects are scrapped or held or put aside, and timing and the music business in general.  It’s so unpredictable, but it’s good that it’s finally seeing the light.

Yeah, well thanks very much I appreciate your interest and your kind words about it, and ya know, tell a friend.


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Keaton Simons – You Should Hear Him Now

Keaton Simons

One could forgive Keaton Simons if he chose to be a cynic. Like so many others in the music industry, Simons’ career has been marked by a series of starts and stops that makes many throw up their arms, pawn their guitars and look for a more reliable gig. But Simons has persevered, through a record label dissolution, working as a musical director, and even playing in movies.

In 2008, the singer/songwriter/guitarist finally got his chance, signing on with CBS Records, and releasing his long-overdue, full-length album Can You Hear Me Now, a record of surprising optimism and one that grooves from start to finish. I recently spoke with Simons about musical influences, Can You Hear Me, touring and much more.

I’ve been reading up about your background and know you had some formal music training in school, but I’m wondering if there were any specific artists or albums that really made you want to write songs in the first place.

There are tons.  I’m a huge Beatles nut, and that’s a big part of it for me.  But as far as giving me inspiration to write songs, definitely The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell.  Ya know, writers and artists like that.  But I’ve listened and studied music from all over the world.  And I’m also a huge blues fan.  So, ya know, early blues like Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf , and Ray Charles and all those guys and stuff.  As far as writing, I’m such a Beatles, Joni guy.

What particularly about Joni do you like? What appeals to you about her?

Well, my favorite Joni Mitchell album is called Blue. And it’s just kind of the honesty of those songs, the words are so brilliant.  And it has a kind of deceptive complexity and that’s one thing that really really intrigues me.  That I love – things that kind of seem simpler than they are.

Great writer for sure.

Oh my God, unbelievable.

Good guitar player and no rules with the songs and construction and anything like that.

And piano, guitar, and honestly her musical…her technical musical abilities and just her ear and her sophistication of it has always been a cut above everybody.

Are you familiar with the album…I think it was right after Blue, called For The Roses? That’s my favorite of hers.

Yeah, of course. That and Court And Spark. Yeah I love For The Roses, too.  I love it.  But, Blue’s got “All I Want” on it, and “River” and all that stuff….and “Carey”…..”California.”

Yeah, absolutely. You mentioned early blues and I guess one of the things that strikes me about your singing is your phrasing – to me it has an R & B quality.  I’m wondering how that developed.

You know, it’s really just from listening to stuff.  I think even when I was growing up and listening to The Beatles and loving them so much.  Cause my parents turned me on to all this stuff, ya know, it was in the house and in the car.  We were always singin’ it and stuff.  But even that stuff, they were hugely influenced by blues music and early R&B and stuff.  I’ve always loved Ray Charles, and Otis Redding, and Aretha Franklin, and Sam Cooke; I’ve always loved Sam Cooke.  So, honestly I think it’s kind of an innate thing that’s happened just from growing up and listening to the music that I’ve listened to.  I never went through a… like a big Whitesnake or G’NR phase when I was growing up.  For me, when most of my friends were into that stuff I was listening to hip hop. Not that I don’t love that stuff now.  But at the time, I was totally not into it.  It was always about the kind of funky soulful stuff for me.  And phrasing was always so important.  With hip hop that’s huge, ya know, because there’s a lot of forgoing of melody for rhythm.

Sure.

K: And so, phrasing was so important.  And then I remember early in my career I did mostly like hip hop and R & B and funk and stuff.  And I ended up…I was musical director and played guitar with Tre Hardson from Pharcyde and members Black Eyed Peas and eventually Snoop Dogg and stuff like that.  I was working on this track with this legendary hip hop artist named Brother J from X Clan.  And you might remember… “To the east my brother, to the east my brother, to the east.” I don’t know if you’ve ever heard that one.  But, Brother J and I were doing this thing together and his subtlety of feel and his phrasing was so advanced and sophisticated and I was like “wow.”  Because at that time I had been studying world music and studying like West African music.  And understanding and learning and more just observing how incredibly subtle and minute the little subtleties are of feel.  Ya know, you place one beat a tiny fraction of a beat off and they’re like “ no no no, that’s wrong.”  It’s like…”OK.”  Most people it’s indistinguishable but to them it makes all the difference in the world.  And Brother J, just through the experience of doing his whole life, he had that ability for his art, and I remember thinking, “Wow, this is something.”

So, for you it’s not enough just to have a chord progression and the lyrics and the melody, you actually have to sort of work internally within that to get the phrasing correct.

Yeah, but ya know, it’s funny because I don’t force any of it really.  That for me… is one of the reasons I do that is because I really don’t like to pigeon hole myself because of genre.  I like to be kind of be free in the songs I write, the type of songs and the content and all that kind of stuff.  And then allow it to just all be me.  Ya know, so just let my natural melodic sensibilities and my natural phrasing sensibilities to come out.

And then you also have to have the technical skills on the guitar to bring out those ideas and one of the things that struck me is that you seem pretty versatile as a guitarist. You have a wide range of moods and styles on this record. How you would describe your guitar playing?

I’m very much a guitar player, and that’s kind of what I did professionally before I started writing songs.  I was young, too.  Ya know, I started writing songs when I was like 19 or 20.  But I started playing professionally before that. And before I even put my own project together I was a guitar player, and a bass player, and a musical director for a lot of different people.  And guitar…I feel like it’s kind of an extension of my body, ya know?
I found a real comfort in that instrument.  I play a lot of instruments and always have since I was a little kid, but there’s never been anything like the guitar for me.  It really is another voice for me, ya know?

Sure.  One of the things I like is your solo on “Currently,” it’s got a real jazzy feel.  Do you go into that thinking like…Wes Montgomery or George Benson?

Sure.  Honestly, the way that I use all of my study and influence is kind of just to study and observe and intensely immerse myself in all of it, and when it comes time to kind of create or perform then I just let it all come out however it comes out.  So, certainly in the context of a song like that just because of the chord structure and the vibe it will end up sounding a bit more Wes Montgomery, Link Chamberlain type thing, ya know? But, I’m not thinking that specifically, ya know?  I’m just thinking specifically, “what do I want to say over this”? Then the thing is…it’s just like having a conversation, ya know, a conversation about one thing and you’ll go in a certain direction.  You know you wouldn’t necessarily scream a conversation to someone in a library.

Not for long.

Not for long, they’ll kick you out.

Yeah.  You’ve got a really nice guitar sound on “Burch Mog.”

Thank you!

The guitar solo kind of reminds me of some stuff that Stephen Stills used to do. There’s some surprising lines in there, I don’t know if you’re playing some double stops or whatever, but it’s a really cool piece, yeah a really cool good solo.

Dude, thank you so much for noticing that one because that’s my favorite solo on that record for sure.

Yeah?

Well, that song.  People always ask me, “What does it mean? Burch Mog?”  Yeah, it’s just a nickname I’ve always had for my sister, her name’s Morgan. And so I called her Burch Mog.  She was like the inspiration for when I wrote that song.  I wrote that a long time ago. That to me was a perfect example of what I wanted for this record.  Just for it to be like completely… at least have those moments of purely organic….like that song, to me, sounds so full, but it’s literally just one acoustic guitar, one drummer, one baser, and one vocal, that’s it. And then the solo’s…it’s happening…I’m playing it live, so there’s no chordal accompaniment at all happening over that solo or anything. It’s just like, me playing a solo on a acoustic guitar, with an acoustic trio, ya know?

Yeah.  I’m assuming you’re playing with a pick?

Yeah, you can hear it.

Yeah, at the end it was kind of like a raking almost.

Yeah.

Are you playing the Gibson 200 on that?

That solo is actually on…I usually play a 200, but I didn’t play it really on this record because the producer I worked with, David Bianco, had some guitars that were just unbelievable.  He had an old like ’40s Epiphone, and that one was just like, “Whoa.” For certain tunes…tunes that are like real percussion, acoustic sounding, it was just unbelievable.  And then on every guitar that I used for like a lot of other like more full acoustic sounds, like on “Without Your Skin” is on a Fylde.  It’s a British Company, hand made guitar, so amazing.

Yeah, sounds like it.  We talked about Joni earlier…do you do anything in open tunings or are you pretty much in standard just capoing to different keys?

Well, I really rarely use a capo. I’m usually in standard and I really rarely use a capo.  There’s only one song that I’ve ever written where I use a capo consistently and that’s “Without Your Skin.” On the record I didn’t even use a capo for it – I just tuned the guitar up a whole step.

But I’ve been starting to mess with open tunings a little bit.  I’ve never written a full song in open tunings, but if I tune a guitar open I can sit there and just play and like mess around like all day. And I’ve started a few songs in open tuning and I just absolutely love them.  It’s all a matter of whether or not it serves a purpose.  That’s the thing about Joni’s stuff.  All that stuff is just…she had a sound in her mind and the guitar had to be tuned that way in order to make it sound like that.  You try to play it any other way and you can’t.

I know a lot of people who kind of…they tune their guitars all weird because they think it’s cool and then they will try to teach me and they’re like “oh, it’s in this really weird tune, blah, blah, blah.” And I’m like “OK, I’ll check it out.”  And then nine times out of 10 I’m like “ya know, that would be much easier to play and be that much better if you just didn’t tune it to that weird tune.  Ya know, if you just left it standard and kept it like it is.”  They basically take this really weird shape and all that they’re really doing is like recreating an open G-chord.

Where you have to stretch across seven frets or something to play it.

Exactly.

“Without Your Skin” I think is one of the strongest songs on here.  Any story behind that one? How did it develop? When did you start writing it?  Ya know, all that good stuff…

Well, originally…well, I wrote it all in one afternoon.  Ya know, just alone at my house.  I’ve been tripping out a lot, for years now, on just this amazing duality that we see in our world of this simultaneous like just complete distinction, individuality, ya know, autonomy.  And also, this inseparable completely interwoven connection between all people and all things.  And it’s so funny, because both of those things seem to exist at the same time.  But, you have to reconcile which one….applies to which situation, ya know?  You’re talking about like…you can feel as connected as you possibly can to somebody but that doesn’t mean that you are inside of their body or that they are inside of yours or whatever.  So, it’s that kind of that idea, where does one’s person end and another begin?

And so, ya know, it’s that way, from like a romantic perspective but it’s also that way from like, ya know the perspective from like…ya know there’s a line in there where I kind of talk about being caught in a unique place that a lot of performers can understand.  From being on stage between the crowd and the curtain, ya know?

Sure.

K: And it’s that thing of being completely connected to all of those things at the same time but also being, ya know, alone.

Nobody Knows” – your Beatle influences are coming through to me in that song for sure.

Oh cool. Thanks.

I think they’d call that power-pop if you wrote it in 1975.

Totally.  Yeah.  Nice.

I like that kind of real chunky guitar ripping in there, too.

Yeah.

And actually I guess it’s just more of the sequencing in this album.  Did you have to sort of ponder over the way you were going to arrange these tracks from 1 to 11?

Absolutely.  There was a lot of stuff that went into that.

What’s your process for that?

Honestly, it all comes down to just visceral feel.  And I really try to get other people’s input on it too.  And so there’s a lot of input from my management, from the label, and stuff like that.  Just because I want to know how it feels to other people.  Sometimes I’m so close to it, it’s very hard for me to have perspective.  But, honestly, it feels like an instance where something will make sense chronologically before or after something else then I’ll definitely see if I can make that work.  But most of the time it’s just about the feeling that takes you from one to the next.

Most musicians say that when the sequence is final – ya know, when they land on it – they couldn’t imagine it any other way.  Do you feel that way?

Yeah, absolutely.  And I know that it’s true with the records that I’ve listened to a lot more than I’ve listened to my own.  Ya know, like if I’m listening to Abbey Road, I know exactly what comes next. And I know exactly what key it’s in and I know exactly…ya know what I mean? I remember that from my whole life of records that I grew up on, even ones that I haven’t heard…the thing of like the one song ends…the beginning of the next song is the part of the end of the previous song. That’s the thing.  You know it’s funny.  I think people would get used to it no matter what. I think it’s very important and once you’ve decided on it that’s straight.  Until you’ve gotten used to it then you are totally like…that’s the time to be making the decision.  I’d be very surprised to hear somebody go, “God, I wish this song came next.”

You use four drummers on this record. Why so many?

Well, it really had a lot to do with availability.  And also, I know a lot of musicians and I really wanted to make use of that.  I’ve got some unbelievably talented friends and I wanted to get them all involved.  Whoever was available I would say, “come on down and do something.” I’ve got some amazingly talented friends of mine like singing some backgrounds and stuff on this record too.  Um, Tony Lucca, Ernie Halter, Jim Bianco, to name a few.  It was pretty cool.  I don’t know.  I had my friend Deantoni Parks play most of the drums on the record.  And Michael Jerome, who is kind of the main drummer I use, is just so brilliant and did an amazing job on those tunes.  And then I was kind of in a tough stop, I needed to get a drummer in for that day, and the head A&R at CBS Records, a guy named Tom Polce, and he’s an unbelievable producer and musician.  Just like a ridiculous musician.  Which is very rare for A&R, ya know?  Usually those guys are kind of frustrated musicians and wished they had made it.  But they can pick up a guitar and kind of hack through something.  Tom is one of the best musicians I’ve ever known in my life.  Technically, and just kind of vibe and feel, sensibility wise. And his main act is drums. And so he went in there and nailed it.  He played drums on “Burch Mog” and on “Nobody Knows.”  And “Good Things Get Better” – he also produced with me and played bass on that, too.

Wow.

Yeah.  And I wanted…I play a lot of different instruments but I really really wanted to focus on just playing guitar and singing.  And I didn’t even really want to do backgrounds.  I wanted other people to sing background vocals on this record too because I wanted it to really have that alive, big, colorful sound.  I also wanted…ya know, I didn’t want to make a live album but I wanted to follow the model of early records that I love where you didn’t have like a million over webs.  You just had one great sounding guitar.  Ya know?  You didn’t have ten guitar tracks layered to make it sound like something.

That seems to sort of be a trend again.

Oh yeah.  And rightfully so.  I think it makes perfect sense.  It gets old, all that over the top stuff.  It’s fun for a minute, but then it gets old.  You know what doesn’t get old?  The real thing.

That’s right.

That never gets old.

That’s true.  One other song I was going to ask you about is “To Me” which might be my favorite on the whole record. What can you tell me about that one?

Well, that was about a really bad relationship that I had with someone.  We just had like absolutely no trust.  We completely…neither one of us trusted the other one at all so the whole thing was bad.  Unhealthy dependency – for years and years and years she and I were completely like together without being together.  And we never committed because we both knew each other so well that we were like, “well, I would never.”  We just couldn’t stay away from each other but we were not about to suspend our disbelief like that, ya know?  But then at a certain point we just decided, we gotta see…we gotta do this or….we can’t just keep on the rest of our lives like this…we gotta just either see what it is or nothing, ya know?  Thankfully, we both made it out alive.

Yeah.  Well, it’s a great song.

Thank you so much.

How does the musical world look for you in 2009?  It’s a tough field out there for sure.

It is, but ya know…I’m in a great place right now. Things are really moving and kind of on the up and up.  And a big part of it is because I’m signed to a great label that’s very supportive that kind of works for me and because I’m on the road all the time.  And that’s what I want, ya know?  Of all the big stuff that I’ve done throughout my career, still the one thing that consistently does the job and feels the best is consistent touring.

And you’re pretty much going right across the country.

Exactly.  That’s what I’m saying.  I’m so excited because I’m about to embark on a great long tour with some really great artists who are good friends of mine too.  And last night was like the third show of the tour…they’ve all been local for me.  I live in Los Angeles and that’s where I was born and raised.  The first one was in San Diego, the second on was in Santa Barbara, and the third one, last night was in Anaheim.  And it was just like…it was almost sold out.

Cool.

It was unbelievable.  It was so much fun.  If that’s any mark…all the shows have been amazing, so I’m really excited.

Will you  have a band with you for all the gigs?

No, actually, I’m solo acoustic for most of it. But, a couple of the shows, I got a friend of mine in radio who is a beat boxer.  And he toured with Michael Franti and Spearhead for a long time.  And that’s how I first met him actually.  And he was with me last night, and it was so cool, it’s just me on the acoustic guitar and singing and him beat boxing.  It’s really really cool. We’ve only played a few times and it’s just like, every time we do it, it just gets better and better and better.  Cause we never like, practiced it or anything so it’s really spontaneous and we get to learn what we want to do on stage and it’s very cool.

Yeah. What’s your traveling situation like? Are you driving?

Yeah, I’m in my car.  I’ve got a hybrid SUV and so that makes things so great as far as helping save money on gas and also the environment. It’s a harder world than it once was.  It’s a lot harder to afford to take a bus or whatever, especially when it’s not necessary.  And there’s so many people I know who would otherwise be touring that way aren’t.

Do you ever wish you could have been around back in the ’70s when music was such a bigger part of everybody’s lives?

Oh, God yeah.  I try my best not to dwell on anything like that.  I try to keep a foothold in reality, but oh yeah.  Especially for me, don’t you think?  If I was around doing what I do in what feels like for me in like the late ’60s.  It would just be ridiculous.  Especially with the guitar playing and stuff, I think about that stuff all the time, the way the guitar players were revered.  And that’s totally my style.  That’s my vibe, that’s my shit.

Well, obviously you can’t go back in time. Where you would like to go with your music in the future?

Just wherever it takes me.  I kind of use music as my guide a little bit.  I will always leave my eyes and my ears and my mind open and let the world kind of filter through me and come out through my music.  And I’m very comfortable with that, ya know?  I love…I do lots of different stuff with music and in certain ways with some of the more kind of cerebral stuff that I work on from time to time then I’ll really like put a focus on kind of doing something new and trying to change the face of music and stuff like that, but with just my kind of honest expression of music, I’m really not trying to reinvent the wheel.  The uniqueness comes from just me being as unique as I can be.

Yeah.

And I think that a lot of people kind of kid themselves in thinking that they’re doing something completely different by picking up a guitar and singing a song.  The thing is it’s not…the problem that people have is that they are thinking they are doing something different, but they’re not allowing their own voice to speak out.  And actually, that is the true unique thing that we all have to offer. It’s just our true, unique self.  So, if you don’t have your own voice, musically, then it doesn’t matter what kind of signature you play in or what chord changes or harmonic structures you choose.  That doesn’t matter.  All that stuff has already been done, you just might not have found it yet.

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Marillion’s Steve Rothery on “Happiness Is The Road”

Marillion On Stage (photo by Carl Glover)

Do you remember your first math class? After being introduced to the wide world of numbers, you began learning that 1+1 = 2; 2+2 = 4; 2+3 = 5; 6 +3 = 9 and so on. As well, it didn’t matter if you wrote 2+3 or 3+2, the answer is still five. This is known as the commutative property of addition. But for some entities, 1+1+1+1+1 doesn’t equal 5 no matter how it’s written!

Such is the case with British band Marillion, when whose five individual members – vocalist Steve Hogarth, guitarist Steve Rothery, bassist Pete Trewavas, keyboardist Mark Kelly and drummer Ian Mosley – come together, they ”add” up to something more than 5. As guitarist Steve Rothery confirms, “It’s how you can put five musicians in a room, and the sum of the parts is so much greater than you’d expect.”

Such expectations have helped keep Marillion on a singular artistic journey for nearly 30 years. When many of the band’s contemporaries have called it a day, fallen back on greatest hits or just failed to keep up with the ever-changing “music” industry, Marillion have not only persevered but have seemingly thrived, thanks to a fiercely devout fan base, a willingness to embrace change and an absolute dedication to craft.

By anybody’s count, Marillion have been a busy band. By the time they released 2007’s Somewhere Else, the band had already written enough material for another album, and at the end of October 2008, unleashed the double-CD set Happiness Is The Road, Volume 1: Essence & Volume 2: The Hard Shoulder (my complete review can be seen on the pages of Goldmine magazine).

Happiness Is The Road is a musical pastiche, representative of what Marillion do so well, from the prog-rock frontiers of “The Man From The Planet Marzipan” across the broad sweep of “Essence” to the rumbling “Thunder Fly.” Happiness can be seen as a statement of purpose, not just for the band members but for their fiercely devoted fans, as well. It’s also an aural delight, an unbelievably rich sonic experience that reveals more detail with every listen.

Marillion guitarist Steve Rothery spoke to ClassicRockMusicBlog about the Happiness Is The Road, getting the right sounds, Marillion fans, his upcoming solo project and more.

Steve Rothery playing his Blade guitar (photo by Roberto Maestrini)

Congratulations on the new album. Both discs are great.

Yeah, well it’s a pleasure. The new album turned out really well. At this point, when you’ve made so many records you’re always in danger of repeating yourself, but it turned out good.

There’s a lot going on here sonically, and I don’t think you can get the full impact of the music without hearing it on a good stereo system or through headphones.

Oh definitely – it makes all the difference. I think sonically, it’s probably the best-sounding record we’ve ever made. And I think if you hear it on a good system, that really does come across.

It has a real depth and richness. Did it take a lot of effort to get that sound?

Probably more [producer] Mike Hunter than ourselves. The main technical difference is that it’s the first time we recorded a record at a high bit rate and a high sample rate – 24 bit 96 kHz. It’s quite a subtle difference, but there’s a crispness that you get – especially at high frequencies. But even when it’s dithered down to 16 bit for CD it still retains some of that extra clarity, I think.

The piano and bass sometimes sound like they’re right in your room.

Yeah, definitely. I think Mike did a really good job. He’s a brilliant engineer, and a lot of the credit for the record has to go to him – from an engineering point of view. We were always in a state of recording when we were doing the writing for this record, so if something great happened in the room it was then possible to use on the record. One of the most difficult things is you’ve got an idea – and you’ve got it demoed as a stereo file – and then trying to re-create these subtle nuances, grooves… even sometimes the sound that you use. It’s never quite the same, so the more of the original magic you can use, the better.

Aside from writing the material itself, were there any specific musical challenges with this record?

Really, it’s about not repeating yourself. You try to write something fresh and interesting to bring to a record. I think it has to be a sound you’ve probably heard before, but it’s more like an approach or a sensibility, really. You don’t want to sound too current. It’s better to have a timeless quality instead of trying to sound like everybody else’s records.

What makes Marillion work so well?

The magic that we create is very much down to the interaction between the five of us. That starts in the writing stage – sometimes someone will come up with a very basic idea, but how the idea bounces around the room and grows and evolves is the thing, I think, that sets us apart from a lot of other bands. We harbor that chemistry, I suppose. In terms of who writes what, that tends to change from track to track and from album to album. Sometimes I’ll come in with an idea; sometimes it’s Mark or Steve or Pete. It’s how you can put five musicians in a room, and the sum of the parts is so much greater than you’d expect.

My thing is, it’s always down to what the song requires – the way I approach playing the guitar and writing, really, is listening to what’s happening, and tuning into the magic in the room and deciding what’s the best part to play here. Sometimes it’s more about the right choice of sounds and atmospheres as opposed to any overly technical approach.

Marillion Live (photo by Rafal Nowakowski)

What guitar parts or solos are you particularly proud of?

I really like playing “This Train Is My Life” and “Asylum Satellite #1.”

Those are actually my two favorites. How did you get the guitar sounds on “Asylum Satellite”?

My main guitar is a Blade, a Blade Stratocaster. On that song, I use a Hughes & Kettner   Rotosphere, which is kind of like a Leslie-type effect. It gives it a great, sort of, warble. I use various amps and sound boxes. My main amp is a Groove Tubes Trio preamp and a 275 power amp. That’s kind of what I’ve used on the all the albums since Anoraknophobia. There’s various bits of equipment, but there are some that are my first choice, and the Rotosphere is one of them. The other one is the Roger Linn AdrenaLinn pedal, which I use quite a lot on the new record. Some stuff that you might think are keyboards is the guitar through this pedal – that’s a really, really cool pedal. You can synch up to MIDI, so when we do these backing tracks – they’re usually to a tempo map – so it’s giving you this fantastic groove and atmosphere, just right in the pocket of the rhythm. That’s in the writing and recording stage. It’s a great box.

And “Asylum” has that real spacey sound, too.

Yeah. It’s always a great one to play live, as well. It’s a point in the set where I can actually just improvise. Every night it’s different. Some nights it’s great [laughs], other nights maybe not so great. There’s always sort of a moment of danger and panic when you get to the point where you really don’t know what you’re going to play next. [laughs] It’s good. It keeps me awake. [laughs]

Steve Hogarth writes all the band’s lyrics, and he keeps getting better with each album. Do you or the other guys make suggestions about the words he presents, or do you just leave them alone?

We pretty much leave them alone. If there’s something that he writes that we don’t like, we’ll usually say so, or tell the producer so he can tell him. [laughs] You don’t want to upset the singer – they’re such fragile creatures. [laughs] We share so much in terms of what we think is great – both musically and lyrically – that’s almost never been a problem. Yeah, I do think Steve writes some amazing words. In a way, the next record’s going to be quite a challenge for him because he’s kind of used an awful lot of what we’ve had on the shelf for the last couple of albums. So, yeah, he needs to go traveling the world for six months, I think, to write another album’s worth. [laughs]

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The first disc opens on a very quiet note with “Dreamy Street,” more like a musical miniature. What’s the process for how the songs were sequenced?

That really only comes about in the later stages, once the album has sort of taken shape. We try different running orders, and we had the luxury with this album of having two different albums to choose which songs make the most coherent statements on each record. They almost choose themselves to a certain extent – it’s incredible when you’ve found the running order, and after awhile it’s the only way you can imagine. That wasn’t the case until about a month before the record was finished.

I think “Essence” is the track from these two discs. Could it be the ultimate Marillion song?

The ultimate Marillion song – that’s hard to quantify, really. I think it’s a great song. There’s a lot of great songs on both the albums. I don’t know if it’s the best Marillion song ever – that’s hard to say. In the same way, is it the best Marillion album ever? For some people, Afraid Of Sunlight is the strongest collection of individual songs we’ve ever done. Some people like Brave; some people like Marbles. This album has had amazing reviews all around the world, so I think it’s up there, but any particular song comes down to personal choice of favorites.

I think it’s a great song. “This Train Is My Life,” “Asylum Satellite #1,” and “The Man From The Planet Marzipan,” “Happiness Is The Road” and “Essence” are probably my favorites.

“Thunder Fly” has a great groove.

It’s good. It’s something different for us, having that slightly Doors-y intro. It’s cool; it’s a fun track to play.

The instrumental “Liquidity” is another favorite of mine. It’s got a very spiritual, almost hymn-like feel.  It’s beautiful.

Yeah. It’s one of Mark’s [Kelly] pieces. During the writing of the record, we all got to do our own bits and pieces. It’s one of the things Mark came up with. It’s a lovely piece of music.

The title track, “Happiness Is The Road,” took me awhile to get. The opening keyboards remind me of Brian Eno and his ambient works, but now I can’t imagine the song without it. Are there songs that take time to sink in for you and fully appreciate?

Sometimes it’s only when you’ve toured a song that you can get inside its skin. You can play a song as you’re writing it and not really get it yourself. I think it’s only with time, sometimes, does it kind of make sense. The more you play a song live, the more you explore it in a way – you find the little nuances and subtleties to add to it. Once you take that song out in front of a live audience you still evolve it further to a certain extent.

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By doing that, can you get close to hearing a song from a fan’s perspective?

I don’t know that you can ever hear it from a fan’s perspective – you’re too inside it. Your own perspective of your own music is always that kind of viewpoint where you’re looking at it through the other end of the telescope. [laughs] It’s a curious thing, really. Sometimes you can sit back and enjoy your music and kind of listen to it, but quite often you’ve heard those songs so many times – you’ve played them so many times, especially by the end of the three-month tour. You need a bit of time away from it to actually be able to absorb it in that kind of third-party manner.

You’ll soon be doing the Marillion fan weekend shows, which require presenting a huge amount of material. How do you remember six or seven hours worth of music?

[laughs] It takes a lot of hard work. It’s like your brain can only hold so many songs, especially when you reach a certain age it becomes increasingly harder to remember things. [laughs] But we do pretty well. I think it was harder for the last conventions we played because we each chose two songs, and some of those were a bit obscure – there was quite a lot of homework involved.

I wanted to touch on the Somewhere In London DVD. The audience participation during those shows is incredible.

I think we have probably one of the best audiences in the world, really. People who get this music, totally get it. It’s not just, “Hey, I’ve got something to listen to while I do something around the house.” It’s music that really absorbs you, and you tend to find that the people who come to the conventions are like a distillation of the people that feel the strongest, almost, about what you do – and at the concerts, as well. It’s just a great, great audience that we have. There’s not many bands that I’ve seen that have anything approaching that level of response and respect that we get from our audience.

There’s some remarkable footage at the end of the DVD where someone requests “Sugar Mice,” then you switch guitars and start playing, and the audience sings the entire song like one giant voice. And then you go into “Easter,” and the response is the same. It’s very moving.

I know. It’s absolutely amazing. We have a great audience. On the last tour we did there was a lot of great shows, but there were probably three that were absolutely mind-blowing – that we’ll always remember. And to still have that after touring for 27 years – since we first recorded for EMI – to still get that sort of response is an amazing achievement, I think.

Did you collect records growing up?

Yeah. I mean, I didn’t have that much money – I spent most of it on guitar strings, probably. But, yeah, I had the Pink Floyd albums and various other artists: Camel, Genesis and some others.

Was there a particular record or song that made you want to play guitar?

Yeah. I always wanted to be a musician, but when [Pink Floyd’s] Wish You Were Here came out – listening to that on the beach in Whitby – a small fishing town on the northeast coast of England, where I grew up – I thought, “This is it. This is what I want to do with my life”: to create something that magical. So, yeah, that’s kind of when I decided what I wanted to do with my life.

If you could take one year off from Marillion and pursue a specific guitar interest or style, what would you do?

I honestly don’t know. A year off from Marillion, ah that’s a joke. [laughs] I do other things outside the band. I’m just finishing up a project called The Wishing Tree, with a female singer [Hannah Stobart]. And that stylistically is quite different than Marillion. That’s something I wanted to do – I’m doing everything now. I’m playing keyboards and bass, and I’ve recorded it, produced it and arranged it. It’s been a huge amount of work, and there was quite a big learning curve for me. Any time outside the band, what I would probably do is find an artist, somebody to work with, and take a project and try to develop it.

Steve Rothery

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Uriah Heep – From Very ‘Eavy to Wake The Sleeper

Check out this three-way discussion covering the entire Uriah Heep catalog. Skull Sessions host Bob Nalbandian is joined by my friend and metal expert Martin Popoff and former publishing editor of Metal Rendezvous magazine John Strednansky. The trio talk about Heep records from Very ‘Eavy Very ‘Umble up to the latest release, Wake The Sleeper.

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Heartwood – Robert Hudson & Tim Hildebrandt revisit “Nothin’ Fancy,” a “lost” Southern Rock belle

\"Nothin\' Fancy\"

The 1970s were, for many, the glory days of Southern Rock. All across the south great music could be heard from bands such as The Allman Brothers, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Outlaws, Atlanta Rhythm Section, Wet Willie, Marshall Tucker Band and many more. Of those bands that “made it,” dozens more enjoyed a run of regional popularity, soaking up the applause in back-road bars, juke joints and clubs. One such band was Heartwood, whose drummer Robert Hudson’s Web site provides the following history on the seven-piece country-rock outfit.

“Heartwood formed in Greenville, NC, in early 1972.  The band was originally called The Band from Clayroot which was a little crossroads outside of Greenville.  We recorded our first album in a studio in Baily, NC.  It was at that time that we changed our name due to pressure from the record company that was concerned about the ‘obvious’ sexual connotation of the word clayroot.  We played throughout North Carolina.  Just after releasing the album, it was bought by GRC Records based in Atlanta.  Their new A&R guy decided that the record should be re-recorded at their new studio in Atlanta. We went in the studio and recorded all the tracks and the ‘new’ Heartwood album was released.  Our management company, also located in Atlanta started booking us in Georgia and Alabama a lot so we decided to move to Athens, GA. to be closer to our record company and the new area of gigs.  Our third album, Nothin’ Fancy, was produced by Paul Hornsby who also produced all the early albums of Charlie Daniels and Marshall Tucker Band.”

Heartwood packed ’em in at Texas roadhouses and Carolina clubs, playing their blend of country-fied rock, showcasing six harmony vocalists and seven sure-footed musicians – Byron Paul (guitars/vocals), Carter Minor (harmonica/vocals/percussion), Tim Hildebrandt (guitars/vocals), Robert Hudson (drums/vocals), Gary Johnson (bass/vocals), Joe McGlohon (pedal steel guitar/alto sax/guitar) and Bill Butler (keyboards/dobra/vocals). Their musical joie de vivre runs through Nothin’ Fancy tunes such as “Lover And A Friend,” “Is It My Body Or My Breath” and “Rock N Roll Range.”

Heartwood band

Like every band that took a couple steps toward stardom, Heartwood were dealt the inevitable blows that knocked them back and finally out of the ring for good. But that wasn’t before the release of the fine, aforementioned album Nothin’ Fancy, the recording that first brought the band to my attention. I caught up with drummer/singer Robert Hudson and guitarist/singer Tim Hildebrandt for an exclusive interview to get Heartwood’s story and learn more about Nothin’ Fancy.

I want to talk to you guys about Nothin’ Fancy overall, but I want to go back a little bit before that and get some more background. Robert, my first question is when did you start drumming and who were your influences?
Robert Hudson
: Well, when I first started drumming I was probably in elementary school and I didn’t know enough about drummers to know who I was influenced by. I just knew that I wanted to play the drums. But…I’m just trying to think…I remember there were two major kind of awakenings that happened for me when I was a kid playing. And one, was a song…I was in the high school symphonic band, and we played this one tune….and I can’t really tell you too much about it but the percussion had…it was almost like a melody line… it was a part that made sense in this piece of music….so that was a real eye opener for me, because before that I’d always saw the drums as just kinda playing along and I didn’t really see it as having kind of its own voice, it was just more to play along with other people.

I remember I had my first set of drums and I had them setup in my room, I guess I was in high school at the time…. And I was listening to a – must have been a Peter Gunn album, Henry Mancini album, Peter Gunn – and I was listening to the drum part in that, and there was just this one little thing, the bongos of all things, played… and then later on in the song they repeated that same phrase but they did it in a different pitch, so it was a lower pitch, and it was the first time that this was like a… this is a musical thing and they actually, there was statements they were making and they repeat ’em, but they don’t repeat ’em the same way, they do ‘em, ya know, a little differently, and that was like….that meant a lot to me when those two things happened – that song and then marching, and then orchestra, which was really a jazz album.

But as far as drummers as I was influenced by, who would that be? Probably would have been….when I was growing up that was in the late ’50s and stuff…and so I listened to Buddy Holly and people like that and all the stuff that was on the radio so I listened to those drummers, although back then I didn’t have a clue of who they were or anything. I guess the first time I was really aware of drummers was probably The Beatles. And then…when you went to my site on my left hand side there was all those different bands I was in. And the one, the first one under drummer – the band called The Studs – what we used to do, we did a lot of Holly stuff so besides Ringo, their drummer, I really listened to him a lot and liked what he did. So, I guess those are mainly the people I really listened to. For the longest time I really shied away from listening to other drummers. In my old ego, or whatever, I thought, ya know, I needed to makeup my own parts instead of being a tape recorder and playing what other people are playing. Ya know? But in the long run I probably would have been a lot better drummer, had I not done that, had I got a lot of influences early on and then picked and chose and kind of blended those together to what I feel….

There’s a lot to be said for kind of finding your own sound, too.
Hudson: When I play, everything that I play is really is just based on what the other musicians are doing, I mean, I cannot stand to play by myself or to practice really because there is nobody to play with and I get bored really quickly. Probably the strongest thing about me is not that I’m a great technician or whatever, but I do have a good ear and I listen really well and I can follow along with most people…not jazz….but rock or folk rock or whatever, that kind of stuff. And it pretty much sounds like I know the song, playing with whoever I’m sitting in with at the time or whatever just because I do listen well. So, anyway, that’s kind of my background for drums and how I approach it.

Do you remember what your drum setup was for Nothin’ Fancy?
Hudson: You mean as far as the drum themselves? What I had and everything?

Yeah, what you were playing, what kind of drums, ya know…were you a Ludwig guy, or a Slingerland guy?
Hudson:
Well, the first set of drums that I got, I got when I was in Warm. And I had them through Warm into Heartwood. And then when Heartwood…when they got us to come to Atlanta they gave us a bunch of money to buy new equipment and stuff and I wanted some Rogers drums. So, I got some oversized Rogers drums that I played through the rest of the time in Heartwood. And I’m pretty sure that I actually used my own drums in the studio as opposed to…like when we went to Nashville and did the recording, the demo recording, we just used their equipment. We used our guitars but we used their amps and their drums and all that kind of stuff. But, I’m pretty sure when we did Nothin’ Fancy I actually used my drums for that, if I remember correctly.

The first band that I was in, well, really did much in, the band called The Studs, I actually had bought a set of Rogers and I was working in a music store in Salisbury, North Carolina, where that band was from. And I bought a really nice set of Rogers drums that I really loved and I remember the guy that I worked with, he was an older guy, a jazz player, and he said, “Ya know, all the jazz players are getting 18-inch bass drums, that’s what you should get.” So, that’s what I did. But I really loved that set of drums. And then when The Studs broke up I couldn’t afford the payments anymore. So I knew this lady who was a percussionist at Catawba College, and I asked her if she wanted to take over the payments because she was a great drummer and played all kinds of stuff. And so, she said she would. So, anyway, about six or seven years ago, turns out she’s living in Chapel Hill and she now has arthritis so bad she can’t play at all. But she ended up giving those drums back to me, so I’ve still got those same set of drums that I had in 1965.

Wow. Hold on to those.
Hudson: She had played them so little they still had the original heads on them and everything. It was pretty cool.

Yeah. Roger’s kinda hold a special place in my heart because the company was based in Ohio and that’s where I grew up…Interestingly enough, Yamaha, has reintroduced that brand now. So, Rogers is back, sort of, in existence. They offer a couple entry level kits, but they’re still available now.
Hudson: Well, I know, at that point back in the late ’60s Rogers was just about the best drum on the market. And then they must have got bought out by somebody and the quality just went south. And then everybody quit buying the stuff and somebody ended up with the name obviously, but that’s cool to know that…I hadn’t heard that Yamaha was going to put that line out again. But they were really good and I still love playing those drums.

You asked about somebody who influenced me…and I don’t know how much this guy influenced me…and this wasn’t until the late ’70s but do you know Bruce Cockburn, from Canada?

He’s one my favorite songwriters.
Hudson: Well, his drummer, he had about ten albums in Canada before he ever released one in America. And the first one was that album with “Wondering Where The Lions Are.” Well, the drummer on that album was Bob DiSalle. And, he to me…had I been a really good technically great drummer I would have played like Bob DiSalle plays. I mean I’m certainly nothing like that, I’m no where near that. But he was like, to me he was like…that’s what I want to do. If I was that good, that’s what I’d be playing. So, I’d say, he’s probably the person I like the best and to some extent influenced me. But, I really like him a lot. It was cool because they were playing at NC State and I went up afterward with my son, who was maybe two at the time, and after the show was over I went up and started to talking to Bob because I really like his drumming so much. And we kind of…he was real friendly and stuff. He had a son named David, my son’s named David, both the same age and everything, we kind of got along. And we went up to a couple other gigs that they played and I talked to him again and stuff. And anyway, sometime later, maybe in the next year or two, I had a subscription to Modern Drummer Magazine. So I wrote an article to whoever there, I mean, I wrote a letter to somebody there. And I said, “ya know, there’s this drummer that I really love that you guys outta do a feature on. His name’s Bob DiSalle and he’s playing with Bruce Cockburn.” A couple months went by and I never heard anything and I kind of just forgot about it. Well, one day I’m at home in Durham…when I was living in Durham, North Carolina…and I get this phone call and danged if it isn’t Bob DiSalle. He called me and he thanked me because Modern Drummer Magazine ended up doing an article about him because of that letter that I sent. And what happened is I had a subscription and my subscription ran out and I didn’t renew it. And the very next month was the month where his article was in. and so, I went down to the local music store where they had that issue and I opened it up and it started off, “a reader in the southern part of the United States,” da da da. And that was like one of the highlights of my life, ya know, because I wrote this little letter they were doing this article on this drummer that I just thought was the best thing since sliced bread.

Very cool.
Hudson: Yeah, that was definitely a very cool thing that happened to me. But, ya know, I really like doing that kind of thing…getting people together. I’ve played with so many different people that every once in a while when I get the chance I get people together that don’t know each other because I just feel like these guys will get along well, musically, and just socially and everything, ya know? So, that’s something that I really like doing now. I’m the one who organized the whole Heartwood 25-year reunion or whatever it was, must have been 25 year reunion. Things like that. I just got back in August. I went down to Florida for about five days and The Studs had a 40-year band reunion concert that we did. And we hadn’t seen each other in forty years and it was just wonderful. It was like everybody was just the same…everybody had the same laughter, the same mannerisms and all this stuff. And nobody, basically, had seen each other in 40 years and we just had a great time. Just a great time together.

Tim Hildebrandt

Tim, when did you first starting playing guitar and who influenced you along the way?
Tim Hildebrandt: OK, I go way back so I’m just going to probably end up dating myself. I actually started playing guitar, gosh, I actually started playing guitar professionally when I was 16 – way back when. The real influence, I guess for me, started out when Elvis Presley and them came along. And both of my parents couldn’t stand it. So, I knew there was something going for it at that point in my life. And then I learned harmony, actually singing, really, well, from the Everly Brothers. And I heard Neil Young, and I heard two guys singing and I didn’t know what harmony was at that point. And it was interesting, I knew they were doing two different things so I tried to copy both parts. So I got involved in that. Then, of course, I got in to the R&B stuff after that. It was that time of the Bobby, the Bobby Songs, I call ’em. This music was at like a dead standstill so I started following R&B stuff, ya know, black stuff. And that was great, then, of course, then The Beatles came along, and that was where I completely got mesmerized with the stuff. And…all on that route…and then… somewhere along the line in the early ’70s I saw a band outta Macon, Georgia, and they’re called Cowboy, I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of ‘em?

Yeah. I’ve got one of their albums actually.
Hildebrandt: Yeah, [guitarist] Tommy Talton. They came to the show at the school I was…East Carolina University, in Greenland, North Carolina. And, I saw them, and they were doing, ya know, the country-rock thing and I thought it was great because I’d also had been involved in a lot of folk music, because when I started playing by myself I had to learn how to play finger style guitar and kinda make the sound larger. I started doing a lot of that folk music stuff. They were kind of like the bridge between folk music and country music and rock, and I thought, “This was great stuff.” And that’s pretty much where the Heartwood stuff, ya know, that influence, to start to write like that, I guess

Were you approaching the guitar then as more as more of a songwriting vehicle, or were you trying to be a lead player as well?
Hildebrandt: No, well, when I started out, it was simply a tool to write. I actually wrote my first song when I was 17 years old. I got up with a guy from North Carolina who was a song writer, which back in those days, it was not really…. a lot of people were doing it. And I kinda learned that craft, somewhat from that guy. And so I used the guitar as a tool to create songs. But I did play lead guitar in several bands. But in Heartwood I was really a guitar player and basically a songwriter, singer kinda guy. So, the guitar was a tool for a long, long time. And now, I’ve kind of come full circle with it. Actually, I’m just in the position right now, well, I’m negotiating a song I just finished writing, uh, it’s an R&B song, I do guitar solos and stuff through it. So, it kinda has gone all the way around the circle. I produced it in Nashville, had a studio there. Doing strictly like country, country rock music from like ’90…. through ’93 to ’98. And that’s where I really craft, actually crafted, songwriting skills, I think. Because it was such a competitive atmosphere there. It was like the old joke in Nashville was “How do you find a songwriter?” and the answer was, “Waiter!” They were everywhere. So, I really crafted that, and honed that skill of getting a story told in three minutes. Because in the Heartwood days, we were allowed to ramble as much as we wanted to. Ha-ha, which was fun, ya know, it was really fun.

Were you a guitar guy back then? I mean, did you have a Martin or a Gibson, or was there a guitar you lusted after? What were you playing?
Hildebrandt: Let’s see, in Heartwood actually I was a Tely-man, a Telecaster – forever. That was my first….actually, my first guitar was an Esquire. And I got mad because it doesn’t have, ya know, a pickup. So, I decided to get a Telecaster, and from then on I was pretty much a Telecaster man. When I started playing folk music I bought a brand new Martin D28 – still have it to this day – probably written 300 songs with that one guitar. And when I hit Heartwood, I started to play, actually, an Epiphone very similar to the one John Lennon used to play. I stuck with that forever through Heartwood days, and when I got out of that I strolled through the Gibson stuff, ya know, and I kept reverting back to the Fender stuff. There’s a certain sound about the guitar that can’t….I don’t care, anybody that copies one or builds one they just can’t recreate that. So, I’ve come full circle with that and I’ve got a ’51 Tely remake from the custom shop from Fender, which looks exactly like the…..I had one stolen from me…. I had a ’53 or a ’54 stolen from me many many years ago that I paid $64 for at a pawn shop in North Carolina. During the years when all the G.I.s were being sent to Vietnam and they would pawn everything they had before they went. And so I would just kinda, ya know, cruise all the pawn shops and I found a ’54…..’53, ’54, I can’t remember what it was….Tely. And it was stolen from me, so, maybe five or six years later. And when I was in Nashville, my heart just sunk because I went to a big guitar show there at the Convention Center and they had one of those there for over $70,000.

Wow.
Hildebrandt: I was going, “Wow!” Ya know.

Speaking of Nashville, have you ever been to Gruhn’s Guitars?
Hildebrandt: Oh yeah.

That’s a pretty neat place.
Hildebrandt: Yeah, I used to perform at the Bluebird Café. I don’t if you’ve heard of that.

Yep.
Hildebrandt: Like a small-weather joint. And uh, kinda scared, because when I was there, actually a guy from… most people out in the audience, of course….and this guy kept staring at me for the whole thing. And after the show, I thought, “This guy must really like the tunes or stuff.” And he said, “Where did you get your guitar?” And I said, “Well, it’s a Martin like that, from Greenville, North Carolina, in 1970…had it for so many years, and yada yada yada.” So he says, “Do you want to sell it?” I said, “No, I don’t want to sell it.” Wrote my songs with it, and he says, “Well, I’ll give you $2,000 for it.” Well, I’d originally paid $500 for it, I was like “Ehhhh, naw, I’m not really interested.” So he says, “how about $3,000?” I said, “No, no I’m not interested.” So he said, “Well, what do you do?” I said, “Well I have a recording studio here in west end of Nashville.” And he says, “Do you mind if I come by your studio and here some of your stuff?” I said, “No absolutely, come on by.” So, I didn’t think much about it and the next day he comes in….staring at my guitar. He says, “I’ll give you $5,000 for the guitar.” And this is in like ’96, and I was going “Whoa.” And I said….ya know, I gave it a second thought because I didn’t have a whole lot of money at that point. But then I said, “Ya know, I really can’t because um….ya know, there’s too much emotion involved in this particular instrument.” I had a metal guitar that I sold that I wish I had anyway. Long story short, the guy turned out he had come from Germany, he was a German guy, and he had come specifically to buy a guitar. And he was told if he wanted to buy a great acoustic guitar he went to Nashville, Tennessee and he went to Gruhn’s Guitars to buy one. That’s where he started, and then he came out to Greenville…..the guy just hounded me to death.

I don’t know if it’s your experience, but the one thing I’ve always found, particular with Martins for some reason, was they seem to get a lot better sounding the longer you have ‘em. It seems like they really need a couple years to mature and mellow to me.
Hildebrandt: Ya know, that’s right. It was funny because I can remember when I bought the guitar…it was sometime in the 1970s….but it was back in the day when guitars were actually sold, not just music stores, but like in…gosh in like jewelry stores…

Department stores…
Hildebrandt: Department stores and stuff like that. And I went into this one place and they had, I don’t know, they probably had seven or eight Martins on the wall and they were all, basically, D28s and D35s. And I played five D28s right next to each other and they all had distinctively different sounds and tones. And…..trying to take the one. And you’re right, as time has gone by it has really mellowed. And they’re big sounding guitars. Ya know, not sold early on, ya know, you don’t want to record with a Martin, you want to record with a Gibson ‘cause it was small, it will fit in the mix. And has time has gone by, that’s…kind of…not true. I do a lot of recording, engineering, and production, and I use my Martin on just about everything.

How did the seven members of Heartwood originally come together?
Hudson: Let’s see, I was in a band called Warm and then originally it was Tim. So, Tim and Bill Butler, who was a keyboard player, and Gary Johnson were playing music together. And then that band I was in, Warm, broke up. And so, we were all living in Greenville, North Carolina, at the time and I knew them. And Tim had been married to the female singer in Warm years before. So we were kind of like a family anyway. So anyway, when Warm broke up those guys asked me if I would play with them and at that time we didn’t have a record deal or anything, and as a matter of fact the band was called The Band From Clay Root because there was a little town – small little crossroads outside of Greenville called Clay Root – and that’s where two of the guys were living at the time. And so, I got together and it so was Gary and Tim, and Me and Bill. And then we decided to add a lead guitar player because Tim is a rhythm guitar player and so we didn’t really…Bill played guitar and he also played a lap steel. And anyway we decided to add a lead guitar player so we…Tim knew Byron Paul from Fayetteville – Tim had grown up in Fayetteville. So we got together with Byron and he fit in real well. And so we played for a while with that setup. And then….I’m trying to think of exactly how this went…I think the next person we added was Joe McGlohon, who was the pedal steel player, and he also played saxophone. And then we had a friend, Carter, who ended up being the harp player and singer in the band. He was a good friend of ours, and we actually hired him to be our roadie. And so he would come up during the shows and sing a song or two, and of course, he is so great, I mean he is just a great singer and a really fine harp player. And so we ended up asking him to join the band. And so that’s how the seven of us got together.

What was the common ground, musically, for you guys? I mean, to get seven people together and to agree on anything is not easy.
Hudson: Yeah. Well, ya know, we wanted to do as much original stuff as we could. And Byron and Tim – and I think actually Carter might have written a song or two – and Joe wrote a couple tunes. But we were kind of a country rock band but we weren’t really a country rock… but because we had a pedal steel everyone thought we were a country rock band. But we did sound country rock because we had the pedal steel. I don’t know, we all just kind of like that same kind of style of music and it just fit together well, and ya know, one thing led to another. And if you listen to Nothin’ Fancy and the next…what I can do if you want is I actually have Nothin’ Fancy, the album before that, which was called Heartwood, and then a demo tape that we recorded in Nashville, at a studio there, that would have been our third album had we stayed together that long. And there’s maybe eight songs on that and it’s not the greatest quality because we just recorded it live. It’s not like a produced studio album… there are other influences besides just the country rock kind of feel…there’s kind of jazzy, bluesy stuff.

Tim, had you previously worked in an outfit with so many people in it?
Hildebrandt: Not with so many people, no. No, that was the first big thing. And it was fun because it started with two. And then I hired Robert. I think it was Robert and actually he did Bill, the piano player, Bill Butler. He was next. And then we signed Byron, the lead guitar player, and got him on board. Then we signed Joe McGlohon, who turned out to be an extraordinary sax player. He became the sax player for Reba McEntire. So we just kept building people up and actually the last guy we got was Carter, the black guy. And it was funny because as soon as we hired him…hire is not a good word for it anymore. We were actually just playing, ya know, “You wanna sit in? You wanna join the band?” There was no hiring, there was no money to be offered. It was funny because, ironically, when he came on board, it was about the time when we headed for Athens, Georgia, down in that area where we live. And it was very unusual to have a black guy in the band, in an all white band.

Did that ever present any problems, particularly, since you guys primarily played in the South back then?
Hildebrandt: It did, in some cases, but it wasn’t really… it wasn’t really overt. I can only remember one occasion that that was an issue. And the occasion was we were living out, we had a big farm house out in the country and we all kinda lived in the same place, and, of course, we had to sneak Carter in because he was a black guy. And the lady in the farm house was probably 75 years old and she was brought up southern, and black people were not allowed in her houses and so forth and so on. And she came in and she saw Carter, and she kinda, her head reared back and we were like, “uh oh, we are probably going to get thrown out of this house.” And she turned around to me and she said, “Ya know, I don’t have a problem about black people, I’ve worked them all my life.” Carter and I just sat there, with our, our jaws just dropped. There was no pretense behind it, I mean, she said, “That’s just the way it is. I’ve worked them all my life.” I was like, “Whoa.” The only other sticky incidents, which became really funny is Skoots – our sound guy, our road manager – his name was Skoots Lyndon. His brother was Twiggs Lyndon, who was the road manager for the Allman Brothers. Anyway, we are eating at their house, at the Lyndon’s house, for Thanksgiving. And they invited the whole band down, so we are all sittin’ around the table and all these white people, and Carter’s, of course, standing out like a sore thumb. And we’re all sittin’ there. We’re all just sittin’ there, kinda just praying in silence. And Carter turns around to Mrs. Lyndon, Skoot’s mom, and says, “Ya know, Mrs. Lyndon, for a white lady you sure can cook.”

Ha ha ha.
Hildebrandt: Talk about breaking the ice!

Hudson: I guess we didn’t go to the really really redneck areas. I mean most of the places we played, most of ’em – the towns – were fairly big, and we never really got hassled. I know the weirdest part of the whole thing was we had gone out to L.A. and we were playing in Texas, we went out to L.A. because they had this thing called Billboard…something or other, I don’t remember what it was called but it was put on by Billboard Magazine and basically what it was for was for regional acts to play in front of a bunch of national booking agencies so people could get national booking agency deals out of the thing. So we went out there to play for that and it was weird because this one time…I guess all of us, or a bunch of us, were walking down the street, and I don’t even remember what was said but we got hassled on the streets of L.A., of all places, and we had never gotten hassled by anybody anywhere. So that was so bizarre.

Tim, you mentioned that farm house. Is that where the picture on the back of the Nothin’ Fancy album was taken?
Hildebrandt: No. I can’t remember where that was taken. That was taken somewhere outside of Atlanta somewhere, I believe.

It looks like you’re out in the woods somewhere.
Hildebrandt: We were actually in Atlanta – outside of Atlanta. Cause we were recording at a place called The Sound Pit in Atlanta. We did all these photo shoots for that. But the house, actually, we lived in was in a place called Clay Root, North Carolina. And actually the band started as being….it was called The Dancing Clay Root before we decided… we changed the name. Real old country farm house.

So, you guys come together, seven guys, and six of you are singers, and you are in a seven piece band to begin with….Was it challenging to work in that type of a setting?
Hudson: Well, not for me. I’m not really sure what other guys would tell you. But I thought it was great, we just kind of….we played together for several years and it got to the point where you just kind of could anticipate what other people would do and I kind of gravitated towards certain parts, certain harmony parts, and other people would gravitate to other harmony parts just kind of naturally. It just kind of, I don’t know, it was pretty organic. And it just seemed to work, I mean, there were no big fights about, “oh I want this part! Or your part sucks!” Ya know? It just kind of happened.

You mentioned earlier that one of the qualities that you brought to the group was that you are a good listener and I guess one of the things that impressed me about the music too was that with seven people in the group there still seemed to be a nice sense of space in the songs, and not sort of a trampling down of instruments just because there were seven people playing.
Hudson: Sure. Well, we kind of came up…we didn’t come up with it… but we had this idea that we called it…well, I know that I’m aware of this so I think the whole band is aware of this…but we called it “focus.” And it was like, the song starts and, ya know, goes along and there’s choruses, and whatever. But it’s like, at every point in the song, there’s something that’s in focus that stands out, and all the other stuff that’s in the background or out of “focus,” back there, and everybody kind of had their chance to do that. And I mean, I guess, we were pretty good at keeping out of each other’s way so it didn’t sound like a big jumble of stuff. And that just kind of happened, we didn’t really have one person…that’s the thing that I really liked about that band…we didn’t have one person saying, “oh you gotta do this, and now you gotta play this, and now you gotta do that,” everybody kind of just added their own ideas and, to me, we were like, the group was like much greater than the sum of its parts. And just the way it kind of molded together everybody was allowed to have their own ideas, ya know, and own influences come through the music and all. And that’s the kind of band that I want to be in. Not one where there’s like a superstar who can, ya know, knock your socks off…he’s got to tell everybody what to do. It just wasn’t like that. And the bands that I’ve cared about the most have been like that…where the musicians are pretty good musicians but what we came up with was much better than any one individual musician was.

Yeah. I think that’s kind of a common thread in a lot of bands that, ya know, in many ways have stood the test of time. How would you describe the music scene in North Carolina back in the early 1970s?
Hildebrandt: Wow. It was wide open. There weren’t a lot of bands like our band…back then. There were more, um… gosh what were they? Rock and Roll, sorta Rock and Roll, I guess, is the best way to approach that. But I can remember, when we first started, I started, actually started a band with myself and uh, just a bass player, and we did like little folk songs, ya know, like a little laugh scale in the college town. And then all the other bands were, ya know, like boogie bands, ya know, rock-boogie bands. And then Robert joined us, he was the third member, I think, in the band at that point and was playing percussion and singing harmonies and so forth. And that was about the time when we got influenced by Cowboy, which was, to me, was a very unique band. For that time, they were very very unique because they were touring, ya know, like The Allman Brothers, and Grinderswitch.Ya know, that ilk. And they were all doing the same thing, and all of a sudden, here comes this group, this laid-back, ya know, they were like the precursors to… The Eagles really. The way they sounded. And we kind of styled our whole gig after that, I styled my song-writing after that. I remember my first ten or 15 songs after I saw them was like, ya know, right in their, right down their, in that vein. Because I thought I was just mesmerized by that style of music. And so it was a cool niche for us to be in. I think that was probably one of the reasons we got signed to begin with because we were out of the ordinary for that period of time. In eastern North Carolina, especially.

Were there plenty of gigs for you guys?
Hudson: Yeah. I mean, we got to the point where we didn’t really have to play…especially in Warm, I mean Warm, that band we would only play, after about a year, year and a half of being together…we got to the point where we could just play two nights a week, like Friday and Saturday, and that’s all we had to do. I mean, we certainly weren’t rich by any means, but we had enough money to live on and it was great. Just working two jobs, Friday and Saturday night, and the rest of the week was pretty much your own. I mean, we’d get together occasionally and rehearse and work up some new tunes or whatever. And Heartwood was pretty much like that, ya know, we didn’t play tons of gigs. We would play pretty much every week, a couple, two or three times and then sometimes we wouldn’t play at all. But, ya know, we played enough to pay everybody’s bills, I mean, all seven families could survive…it was a treat to go out and eat at McDonald’s…but we could pay our bills. And ya know, we got to do what we did, and we were doing what we loved by playing music. And especially once we got with the record company in Atlanta…and we went on a couple of tours, we went basically on our own, we weren’t touring with anybody, but we went on our own and it was really neat because when you go out, at least that time back then not everybody could have an album, where today anybody can by some home recording stuff and make some pretty darn good recordings. But back then, you know you go, and just because you had an album people treated you different. So, we’d tour in like Texas, or Florida, or wherever, ya know? We were out promoting the albums and stuff and it was just like because we had an album out they just treated you a little different. But, ya know, it was just nice. You’d get to a town and listen to the radio and dial in different radio stations and you’d run across one playing your song. Somebody would come out, someone from the radio station would come out and invite you out to supper and stuff like that. But it was really nice. It was a lot of hard stuff, being on the road is pretty tough. But all and all, it was a pretty good scene.

Were you guys all traveling together in one vehicle?
Hildebrandt: Yep. One vehicle. We actually had a big ol’ Suburban – Chevy Suburban – and pulled a big ol’ trailer behind that. And we had a road manager and a sound guy and they did….not all of the driving but a lot of it. But we all took our turns and it was one of those four-seaters: two air conditioners, one in the front and one in the back. I always wanted to get the very back so I could sit back there, put some headphones on. And we actually had this little….I can’t remember what that guitar thing was back then….this tiny little….Pig Nose I guess it was called.

Oh yeah, the little amp?
Hildebrandt: Yeah, you could put the headphones on and kinda zone out…write stuff.

Were you guys making any money at all?
Hildebrandt: Naw. We were kept. They [record label] paid for our homes, they paid our rent in Athens, for our houses. They kept us fed, this, that, and the other. And ya know, some money, but nothing at all, really, zero. And when I found the bill for the album, and me being a song-writer, I had signed a bunch of stuff that I shouldn’t have signed…I was just signing contract after contract. They actually called me down before we signed with that company… they flew to down to Atlanta… the president of the company took me to a concert, and he had put on the concert and The Beach Boys were the headliners and opening for The Beach Boys was a group called Mother’s Finest, which was a group out of Atlanta. And opening for them was this new guy called Bruce Springsteen. So I’m sittin’ here, here comes Bruce Springsteen, nobody had ever heard of him. And I’m sittin’ there, of course we had great seats and I’m sittin’ next to the president, and he’s wining and dining me. “Who’s that guy? Who’s that guy?” He says, “It’s Bruce Springsteen.” He’s opening for the opener. So, when I got back I remember telling Joe, cause Joe and I were living together, and I said, “Joe, I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it.” He says, “What are you talking about?” I said, “They’ve got Bruce Springsteen. You won’t believe it.” And I actually wrote the record company, I’m not sure if it was Colombia or whoever it was, in New York, and said, “This guy, does he have a record album?” He had just put out Greetings From Asbury Park. And it was still local, I mean it was still regional, wasn’t even out anywhere. And I ordered that and had it sent to me and I said, “This is the guy, this is what I’m telling you.” And of course, a couple years later – woom.

Yeah?
Hildebrandt: It was just amazing. It was the kind of thing where… so they were wining and dining me and I’m getting blown away by all of this stuff of course. So, “Sign here?” Oh yeah, I’ll sign. “What do you want me to sign?” So, I got hit for a lot of things that they were going to try to take anyway, I’ll teach some song writing and put it towards my bill and all this stuff, which had I been a lawyer it turned out, ya know, knew that they couldn’t do that kinda stuff. But that was way yonder, after the fact, after the band had broken up and I was trying to figure out what the next move was going to be.

The place where you recorded, the Sound Pit, what were the facilities like there?
Hildebrandt: It was huge. It was it.Yeah, it was it man. Way back then, it really was. It was good as any place in Los Angeles or New York. You know, brass fixtures in the saunas, steam rooms…just absolutely fantastic. In fact…..I can’t remember his name…Glenn Meadows from Nashville, Tennessee, is an engineer now, was an engineer on that album. Glenn Meadows and another guy, can’t remember…somebody else. But um, he ended up, or still is, the mastering guru in Nashville. They had some heavy hitters not only working there, but their equipment was just like, the best. It really was. We’d never really been in anything like that before. The little studio we were at before was a little thing out in like the country between Bailey, North Carolina, and Raleigh, North Carolina. It was a small…you know, egg crates on the ceiling kinda deal. The other one was acoustically designed and they had grand pianos, all kinds of… mellotrons… you know any kind of instrument you needed in the studio, huge studio.

heartwood bc 300x202 Heartwood   Robert Hudson & Tim Hildebrandt revisit Nothin Fancy, a lost Southern Rock belle

Tell me about the label you were with out of Atlanta, GRC, and what happened to them.
Hudson: Well, that’s pretty interesting. GRC was run by Mike Thevis. Tom had called him the Porno King. He had evidently had made all his money…he was from, I think, Whiteville, North Carolina…he had made all his money by selling magazines like Playboy and stuff like that…I don’t know if it was illegal or whatever…but he made a whole bunch of money doing that kind of stuff. And then he started making movies, pornographic movies, and stuff like that. And then he decided he wanted to have a record company, so he just spent a whole bunch of money and built a great studio in Atlanta called The Sound Pit, where we recorded the Nothin’ Fancy album. And then…I’m trying to remember what happened…I think the Feds were coming down on him and so he was in this really bad motorcycle wreck…and I don’t know how real it was or if it was just something to try to get out of going to jail or whatever. But I know for a long time that kind of kept him out of jail. And about the last thing we heard…back then…and no time recently but way back then… was that he had actually gone to jail.

This guy was pretty sleazy and we were so naïve at the time. Somebody that he had some kind of a run in with, or something, had been found stuffed in the trunk of his car. You know, “Wow,” but people were just saying that kind of stuff and, of course, we were so naïve, we believed all of it. Mike’s really a good guy, he was a nice guy when we were around him. Nothing weird happened. When we were living in Greenville they said, “Well, why don’t you move down here because all your gigs are down here.” Da da da. “you’ll be close to the record company.” So we said, “OK, we’ll do that.” And then he said, “I can give you money to help you move down here.” So, the three…I think it was three wives at that time…I think we were on the road or something…and they went to meet Michael Thevis at his office in Atlanta. And we had all figured out how much money it was going to cost to move us from Greenville to Athens and I think it was like $2,300 or something, which back then was quite a bit of money in the early ’70s. Anyway, they went in there and they told him what they needed and he just pulled out this big wad of hundred dollar bills and peeled off 23, $100 dollar bills and then he said, “Well, you sure you don’t need more than that?” He was just going to give us whatever, it didn’t really matter. So they got that. So that should have told us something. This guy’s dealing with hundreds, and that’s the way they pay for everything. So that was kind of strange. But it was interesting, it was a nice studio and we got to meet…while we were recording there…there was actually a big studio and a small studio within this building, and so while we were recording our album some other people came in to record and we got to meet some of those people who were also with GRC at the time and that was neat. Plus, we got to do quite a few of opening acts when we were out promoting the album. A lot of the gigs were just us by ourselves, but every once in a while we would get an opening act and we would play with…I’m trying to think who we played with…we played with Asleep At The Wheel down in Austin…gosh, I can’t remember the guys name… a big kinda country singer now, and the name escapes me…we played with him in Fort Worth. Ya know, things like that. And that was very cool, getting to play with people who had already kind of made it and stuff. Just move up to that next level from where we had been – just playing small clubs on our own.

When your label stopped operating, I’m surprised you guys weren’t approached by another label like a Capricorn or something like that, seems like that would have been a perfect fit.
Hildebrandt: Yeah… I think it was timing. I really do. We had become disillusioned. We had started to wake up and smell the coffee as far as the label was concerned. Out in Los Angeles, the guy at the motel had actually chained our trailer to a post so we couldn’t leave because we hadn’t paid him yet and the money was supposed to be coming from the record company. It was at that point that….this was not good. So, literally, by the dark of night after the money was paid…I can’t remember if we were going from Los Angeles or maybe to San Francisco or some place else, I can’t remember where we were…somewhere on the west coast…and we hopped in the car, in the trailer everything, and high-tailed out and drove back to North Carolina.

Is that right?
Hildebrandt: We didn’t call the record company until we got to… I can’t remember…. somewhere east of the Mississippi….because we were afraid they were gonna come down on it when we just let them know that we were not doing it anymore. And that was pretty much it….and I feel to this day, I know for a fact when I was that age I had a terrible ego, ya know. And, of course, you get pampered with a lot of stuff and your ego gets bigger…junk like that. And I think to this day if we were all smart enough and pushed all our stuff behind us, we would probably still be making music together. Because it was basically all that, and the record company that everything got intertwined there… and well we just said, “Let’s just call it quits.” And you know, in hindsight, you say, you put that stuff behind you, you could probably make some pretty good money. But…it wasn’t meant to be.

Was that getting chained to the post… was that the first time that ever happened?
Hildebrandt: That was the only time that ever happened, but we were always calling, “Where’s the money? The money is supposed to be here. It’s not here,” and so forth and so on. We were pretty much a kept-band. The record company pretty much did everything. We didn’t know who paid the bills or this, that, or the other. Basically, we were naïve enough to not pay much attention to it. We were just, like I said, we were just as happy as could be to be doing it. We were at that level, we were just doing it, and having fun doing it.

Hudson: I guess it’s just as well because, ya know, we were a little scared when the band broke up. When we decided to break up the record company was none too happy when that happened. We probably owed them… I think somebody said we owed them close to $250,000. For all the recording time, for the money they loaned us, for all the advertising they did. So we were just wondering…Guido was going to show up at our door one day and take it out of our hide. Nothing like that happened, but we were a little scared there first.

Paul Hornsby produced that album. And he was just such a wonderful guy to work with, he was just amazing, I just loved working with him. And what happened is…Paul knew…he felt GRC was not promoting us nearly as well as they should have. And so he had actually talked to the people at Capricorn…as my understanding, I’ve just heard this second hand…but he supposedly talked to the people at Capricorn and talked to them about buying our contract from GRC, and for whatever reason, I don’t really know what happened, but that never did happen. But they did talk about it cause Paul liked us a lot. We got along really well and he liked our music and we really liked him and how he produced and everything but nothing came of it.

He kind of became a Southern rock legend in the producing field. What are your memories of working with him?
Hudson: Well, it’s just, ya know, he wasn’t in there…we had worked with a couple producers, this one guy especially. They had flown him in from Las Vegas and we met him at this little club called Grant’s Lounge in Macon and he was talking, he was going to produce our album. What happened is, we recorded an album called Wants and Needs in a little studio in Bailey, North Carolina. And about that time Michael Thevis…what happened actually, was one of the guys that was working with our management company was Lew Childre and his dad had been a big name in the Grand Ol’ Opry. And evidently the people at GRC wanted to sign Lew Childre. So, these people that we were working with, our management company, kind of sold us as sort of a package deal with Lew to GRC. So, anyway, so what happened is…they had a new Vice President of GRC. He came in and listened to our album and he didn’t like it. And they had already put a full page ad and billboard for this album.

OK.
Hudson: And then the next week he had pulled it all off the market and said, “We’re gonna re-record this at our studio in Atlanta.” So we went in and re-recorded it and that’s the first album, it’s just called Heartwood. So we re-recorded that at GRC and put that out. And they promoted us a little bit but not much. And things were really not happening hardly at all for us and we weren’t really sure what was going to happen. But then, a guy that was in the booking agency that was owned by the studio…somehow he knew Paul, I believe, and we were playing at a concert in Atlanta, and he invited Paul to come up from Macon and listen to the band. And Paul really liked us a lot and then it kind of went from there. And then we kind of had this revival because the record company had kind of almost kind of forgotten about us because that first album really didn’t do anything. And so, anyway, we got together with Paul and it was just like, he was able to make us sound like Heartwood instead of Heartwood-produced by Paul Hornsby, ya know? To me, it was pretty transparent, it wasn’t him, but he just helped us just do better. I’m probably not explaining that very well.

No, no, I understand.
Hudson: But, it was just that he wasn’t in there, no big egos, “No, you gotta do this, you gotta change that,” ya know? He was just very supportive and really knew how to get the best sounds out of the equipment for us and what we were trying to do. He did have the idea of us, basically, recording live in the studio, which was the way Nothin’ Fancy was recorded. And we went back and overdubbed the vocals and some lead tracks and stuff. And we did have several friends sit in with us on the album with us, and that was done. But basically, the whole band recorded the songs instead of the rhythm section, and then we’ll bring in the lead part, and then we’ll bring in the vocal parts and all that stuff. And I think that…I don’t know, I just like that approach and I think it had a good feel to the album from doing it that way.

If you can get everyone to agree to record that way, I think that that’s the best way to record because outside of playing live, how else are you really going to show your sound off?
Hudson: Yeah. And the thing about that is, I didn’t really explain it that well, its not like you go in and we’re all playing at the same time, and the drums in the drum booth, and the guitar’s in a small recording studio, ya know, 50 feet away…da da da… we were all in the same room playing live and everything was miked but it wasn’t like everybody’s separated in a small little room so there’s total separation…things would bleed from all the instruments into all the mics and that’s basically the way we recorded the rhythm part of that.

And I was just going to say…we were recording that…and the song, “Guaranteed To Win.” We had a friend of ours from Athens that we had talked to about playing banjo on it. And Paul came in and said, “I’ve got this friend that I’m doing this, this album with right now. You might want to get him to play banjo for you.” And we said, “well, no, we’ve already got our friend coming in, so we’re gonna do that.” So, anyway, he brings in this recording of…and it’s not even been mixed really…but it’s a recording of this guys band and we get to here it and it’s Charlie Daniels doing “Fire On The Mountain.”
And Charlie Daniels was the guy Paul was going to get to play the banjo. Of course, we had never heard of Charlie Daniels so we had said, “No we’re gonna get our friend from Athens to do that.”

And that would be Buddy Blackman, then?
Hudson: I’m trying to remember, there were two of them. Buddy Blackman and there was another guy who played mandolin…

There was a Buddy and a David Blackman.
Hudson: It probably says on the back of the album somewhere, I guess, what they played.

Yeah, Buddy was the banjo guy and David was the mandolin player.
Hudson: Yeah, it’s hard to remember that was so long ago. That was so long ago, that was 30-plus years ago, 33 years ago.

Tim, what are your memories of working with Hornsby?
Hildebrandt: Paul. Man, Paul was a great musician. Of course, he did all the Charlie Daniels’ stuff, Marshall Tucker. And Paul and I kind of butted heads, couple times. Another reason I said – I mean, now, this is what, a hundred years ago? – but that I can remember that I wanted to double some voices, which everybody was doing…even The Eagles… just to fill this stuff up. And he said, “Ah, we’re not gonna make any damn Carpenters records.” We didn’t do any doubling, everything was pretty much…what ya get.  Paul had his way. He was strictly – you know – you get your guitar, you get your drums, and you get your bass and you play. Ya know? And you don’t do any extra “stuff.”

Would you say that there was something of a Southern rock fraternity back in those days?
Hildebrandt: Absolutely.

Was it easy to hook up and play with different people if you wanted to?
Hildebrandt: Yes it was. It was just so wide open then. There was really not a lot of pretenses. And a lot of those bands were geographically pretty close to each other. So, you’d see each other up and down the road. Of course, The Allman Brothers were obviously, ya know, the big stars and everything, at this point. But, you know, like I said, it was not unusual for Dickey Betts to sit down and jam. Or anybody, for that matter, would just come and sit in. And I can remember when we were out in Texas, Vassar Clements sat in with us, which to me, was like… he was God on the fiddle. It was funny because Bill Butler went out and played golf with him the next day. In all honestly, which I thought was pretty funny because I couldn’t picture Vassar Clements playing golf. So, I’m sure he’s not a good golfer, you know? So, it wasn’t unusual to sit in… a couple people, if I’m not mistaken from… Willie Nelson’s band… I think his sister or whoever it was used to play. It was just kind of a thing. It was small enough, of that kind of music, so that you saw each other in different situations a lot. You know, you weren’t certainly friends, and hung out with each other at all…

One thing that sets Heartwood’s sound apart from “Southern Rock Bands,” or however you want to refer to yourselves…is the heavy presence of the pedal steel guitar. Looking back now, do you think you might have had some problems with the record companies who may not have been able to label you, saying, “You know, maybe you’re too country for rock and vice versa.”?
Hudson: Well, that’s a good question, but I’m not sure I know the answer to that. I mean, we didn’t really…we only dealt with GRC so we didn’t really have any kind of talk with any other record companies to know if they would’ve thought, “Well, you guys, we want you, but you gotta get rid of the pedal steel,” or whatever. I don’t know, I guess that’s possible. I mean, country rock was pretty, kinda happening at that time. So, my guess is it probably wouldn’t have been…I mean any record company that wanted to do country rock, if they liked us, they would have picked us up. I mean, I don’t really know the answer to that. Hopefully, if that had happened we would’ve said, “Well, no, sorry, we are going to do this, and if you like it, that’s great and lets record it, but if you don’t and you want us to change it, there’s no point because that won’t be us if we change it.” So I don’t know really.

I want to talk about a couple of the songs on Nothin’ Fancy. The opening track, “Lover And A Friend,” I think is one of the best parts of the album and it sort of ends up being sort of an extended suite. It really surprised me the first time I heard it because right when you think it’s ending it’s just reaching the middle point. How did that song develop?
Hudson: Well, to me, “Lover And A Friend” will always be the quintessential Heartwood song. I mean, its just like, it took everything that we were about. More or less all the different kind of little different styles and the sounds that we had and just kind of put them together. I remember, I don’t remember exactly how that happened…I know we were playing in Auburn, Alabama, at a little club. And we were staying in this little motel and I can just remember sitting in the motel room…some people were standing around some people were sittin’ on the bed, I would’ve been sittin’ on the bed probably playing on my knees…probably just playing acoustic guitars and stuff. And that song just kind of happened, and how all those other parts came about, to tell you the truth, I don’t even know which people wrote which parts. It was just kind of an organic thing that kind of grew and, to me, that was my favorite song. I loved playing that song with that band. All those different feels and everything. It was just one of those magical things that happened. It wasn’t really planned or anything, and I’m not sure anybody was directing it to make it happen that way. That’s just what happened in that Motel room.

Yeah. That’s how it sounds…and it’s credited as a complete band composition. It sort of has that feel as if one person is picking up where the last one left off.
Hudson: Yeah, I’d forgotten about that, but yeah, I guess that’s right. I guess it was more like the whole band wrote the song as opposed to one person wrote this part, and somebody else wrote the next part. I mean, it probably was something like that. But like I said, everybody was able to add so much of themselves that even though all of the songs, basically, are written by a “writer,” I mean, we took ’em and made ’em into Heartwood as opposed to, “OK, we’ve got this Tim Hildebrandt song, let’s do a Tim Hildebrandt song.” It’s like, we took the song by Tim Hildebrandt but made into a Heartwood song because we were allowed to do that instead of, “oh you’ve gotta do it all this way, and do it all my way,” that just didn’t happen in Heartwood, which was a great thing.

Hildebrandt: The best I can recall….parts were written by different people, specifically. Actually, Byron was pretty much responsible for where we got kicked off, you know, the uptempo portion of it. The little fingerstyle thing, which I specifically wrote as a basically… was going to be another tune. And then Carter wrote the kinda bluesy thing, created that little part. We were just goofin’ around and basically, we just started breaking it down. And it was, we were really doing that, ya know, that Tommy kind of atmosphere, but in a country-rock kinda way. We were trying to have almost like a little opera deal going on. That’s how that occurred. We were all, actually, specific different people that had written different parts and we just, ya know, got in there and decided, “That would be cool to see if we could just somehow tie them all together.” And, actually, the best part about is in the end, Carter’s line, “Gonna be your lover and your friend,” and we kicked back into the top with Byron’s part, which really kinda sealed it to me.

How would you describe the different guys in the band and their contributions? You mentioned Joe – anybody who can play the pedal steel and the saxophone is a pretty incredible musician.
Hildebrandt: Well, actually, we started because Joe, ya know, learned to play a lap steel. First of all, because we wanted one. And, basically, he was playing in another band. And he sat in and played a little lap steel. And we said, “man, this is great.” So he learned his chops on the lap steel and then progressed to the pedal steel, which, to me, was amazing. The most amazing thing about his playing style, was he never played with his fingers and picks, he played with one flat pick. He did all that with a flat pick, just like you play the guitar. Absolutely mind-boggling because all the notes were so clean and so well-done when he did that. And the funny thing about the sax part, the great story about the sax part was we were sitting in the rehearsal at that big ol’ farm house I was telling you about. And we were just doing some rehearsing and so forth and so on. And I had written some tune, I don’t remember off the top of my head which one it was, but I had written some song, and we were sittin’ around chattin’ and I said, “Man, this song is dying for a sax.” And Joe said, “Well I play a little bit of saxophone.” And I said, “You do?” He said, “Yeah, I used to play it in high school, but you know, saxophone sucks.” Because he was 18 years old at this point. He says, “Saxophones are not cool…guitars are cool.” So, I said, “Just bring it to the next rehearsal and let’s just see what happens.” And he came in and played the saxophone and blew everybody away. He couldn’t just play a little sax, he could play a lot of sax. And from that time on, he was like, he was doing double duty with the band. He doesn’t play pedal steel anymore, unfortunately. Cause he had a motorcycle accident in Macon, Georgia, riding with Twiggs Lyndon and did something to his hand, tore some, I’m not sure, some nerves or something. And he can’t physically do that anymore…all the quick stuff he was doing. Well, oddly enough he did play some acoustic guitar with Reba McEntire at some point in some of the shows too. He’s pretty much an incredible musician all around. Complete all-ear, ya know.

Hudson: Joe actually ended up – after playing in bands in Richmond and wherever – he ended up being the sax player for Reba McEntire. He became just a phenomenal sax player. He’s one of those musicians that can pretty much pick up anything and play the Dickens out of it, really well, with a great touch. And that’s what he played for Reba McEntire. He was actually in the band…they were going to a gig somewhere and the band’s plane crashed and killed everybody in the band. And it’s my understanding that at the last minute Joe decided to fly with the sound crew in a different plane that day…probably because they had some great pot or something…ha ha ha. But oh man, it’s pretty amazing.

Wow. And he can’t play pedal steel anymore?
Hudson: I know that…it must have been about five to seven years ago we had a Heartwood reunion in Durham and everybody was able to come, all seven people were able to come. And Joe had borrowed a pedal steel to play, but I don’t think he had played pedal steel probably since Heartwood had broken up. He lives in Nashville now, I think. He plays with…oh what’s his name? A couple people…oh shoot, people you would know. He plays with them, he goes out and tours with them, so he’s still doing that.

What’s the deal with motorcycle accidents in Macon?
Hildebrandt: I don’t know. The thing was he was with one of the Allman Brothers people, it was strange, it was really bizarre. That would be Joe’s slant on the band as far as his musicianship. Of course, Carter came, the black guy came, completely raised on R&B stuff. The first time I heard him play the harmonica I was just….it just killed me. It was great. Because he could play a country harmonica if he wanted to but he was really deeply engrossed in the blues stuff. And when we played in Macon several times we actually had some of the Allman Brothers sit in with us and some of the Wet Willie and some of those guys. And so we would have these jams that…I can’t remember the name….this little black club, I can’t remember the name of it anymore. But I remember Carter coming in…Jimmy Hall came in. Jimmy Hall used to wear a belt…. You know Jimmy Hall? You know who I’m talking about? He’s actually the lead singer for Wet Willie.

Oh yeah.
Hildebrandt: And he played the harmonica. And he used to wear a belt, which looks like a cartridge belt, I guess. And he had his little harmonicas all around it. He’s a pretty fair harmonica player. But we showed up and Carter came in and Carter had a bandoleer. And got up there and just proceeded to blow the whole place away, and Jimmy was just sittin’ there with his mouth hanging open. It was really a fun thing. Butch Trucks was on drums, I remember, Jim was playing some percussion. Robert was playing drums, Byron, the guitar player, was playing guitar. Jimmy Hall was playing. I wanna say Dickey Betts was on the other guitar. It was some great stuff. Further along, I guess back to your original question, of course, Byron was a really young kid at that point, the lead guitar player. And I saw him, actually his brother, played bass with me years before that, his older brother. I can always remember when Bobby and I would rehearse at his house, Byron was probably only seven or eight years old.

Oh, wow.
Hildebrandt: And he was like the little brother, we’d kick him out, “Get outta here kid.” And he ends up playing guitar in the band which was really neat. I saw him at a club years later before we asked him to join the band and I went, “Whoa, look at this guy, this guy really knows his stuff.” So…Heartwood, we had a lot of…we did a lot of shtick too when we performed. We had jokes…we were a lot of like Statler Brothers’ kind of entertainment when we performed, which I wish we had a tape of that stuff because we did a lot of routines and, ya know, all kind of just beat up stuff besides just playing.

On Nothin’ Fancy, Joe’s got a couple of these short little, sorta almost like a Bob Wills-type things. Is that kind of stuff he would do up on stage? Would he improv stuff like that?
Hildebrandt: Oh, absolutely. In fact, we even did…gosh I can’t remember. It was a routine done by… Hog…shoot I can’t remember… Road Hog…Byron went through this whole thing and I was Wichita…this whole thing. And for five minutes there would be no music. And just all kind of stuff just like that. We picked up a lot of that when we went to…I guess we were in Houston, or actually Austin. We performed with Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jew Boys. And Kinky Friedman, they were major shtick. And I remember we were opening for them in Houston and I had never seen them before….they were opening for us, excuse me…and they were up there and we were getting ready to go on and we were watching them and the lead guitar player was playing with his pedals, and he was leaning back on the pedal and all of a sudden he just bellied over…just on to his back. And the whole band stopped, and I mean, everyone just takes a huge gasp in the audience. And he jumps up…ha ha ha… and starts playing… I just thought, “This is great.” And the final song was some little song about America this or America that. And the drummer has drum sticks that actually an American flag would pop out at the end, so at the end he’s waving the flag and hitting the cymbals, it was… this was good stuff here. So we did a lot of that, not as much as they did, but that was kind of one of our performances as I recall.

What can you tell me about Bill and Gary’s playing?
Hildebrandt: Bill, interestingly enough, when he started out he didn’t know anything about the dobro. And he just picked it up and he became a really sweet dobro player. And just kinda like Joe, he played piano and school but the piano wasn’t cool, ya know. He learned to play piano in piano lessons and so forth. And then he started bangin’ around on the piano and back then the country rock stuff… the piano was a lot of fill stuff… it wasn’t a lot of real heavy-duty things. And it just kind of made a really nice fit, for some reason, it just fit. But I liked his dobro playing as much as I liked anything he ever did. He had a beautiful dobro and a beautiful technique. And the tone was always so good on it. Gary was a funny guy. Gary and I went to college together and that’s where Gary and I started playing, when I was in college this where all of this started. Gary and I played together… he was roommate or, suite-mate actually at East Carolina. And Gary didn’t play an instrument at all, but he was a brilliant person, he was like a straight-A student. And I’d sit in my room across from him and just play my guitar. And he said, “I’m gonna get a bass and just kind of sit in with you.” And I thought, “Oh, well, OK, whatever.” And he didn’t really have much of an ear, but he had this incredible ability to learn stuff by kind of a numbers method.

Really?
Hildebrandt: And once you got going, he could hit every single note. It was really funny to me because he was coming from the completely opposite end of the spectrum that I was. I was coming completely from the ear… grab a guitar, make some sounds, come out of it, and go on about your business. And he was coming like almost like a writer, an old time writer, it’s like a numbers theory for him. So, that’s the way he kind of approached stuff. And of course, Robert – he’s a really fine percussionist period – and not a bad acoustic guitar player and a great harmony singer.

Yeah. You guys kind of had an unusual setup there with so many possible voices in the band.
Hildebrandt: Yeah, and that was really fun because I can remember we would start off the shows with “Bonaparte’s Retreat,” I don’t know if you know that song. But “Bonaparte’s Retreat” was basically a three-part harmony thing and we would get up there without our instruments and we would start off the thing with seven people singing it. Which was really, really, really nice. It kind of was shocking, because you open the curtains and you would think someone was going to slam out their tune and we would just be standing in front of the stage. That’s how we started our shows. It was so much fun to have seven people that could actually find a note and get in there somewhere.

Another song on here that really stands out is “Sunshine Blue,” and you had mentioned earlier about Carter’s harp playing, which I think is evident throughout this album – it’s superb. I know it’s a longer song, but was there any talk about ever making it a single, or were any of these songs considered for singles, on Nothin’ Fancy?

Hudson: Well, actually, they did put out “Home Bars And City Lights.” Which is you know, the most folky sounding song of the whole lot. Oh, that was the second single they put out. The first single they put out was “Guaranteed To Win.” That’s the one that Paul really felt should have been a hit. I mean, it’s a nice song, it’s not a great song, but it’s a nice song. He just felt, that had GRC had promoted it correctly, it could have gotten us national recognition, which of course it didn’t. So, that’s part of the reason why he wanted Capricorn to buy us because he knew that GRC wasn’t doing right by us. But the thing that I really liked is on “Satan And Savior,” Carter and Joe play harmony parts and Joe is on sax and Carter is on harp, and they sound so good together. I don’t know if you noticed that part but that’s actually saxophone and harmonica doing those two parts.

Tim, “Home Bars” and “Sunshine Blue” are both your songs. What do you remember about writing them?
Hildebrandt: “Home Bars And City Lights” was before we were getting ready to go out on tour…one of the tours. I mean, we had been on the road and we were home. And we were getting ready to go again. And I thought about all these places we had been, and so forth, and we were getting ready to go back out there again, but ya know, it’s like home bars…was not our home, but home for whoever’s town you were in. And that’s where that came from…it’s one of those kinds of songs. And it got to be, I think it was made number one in a couple towns out there in Texas. It was great because it was the first time, I remember, we pulled into some place, maybe Dallas or some place, and we turned on the radio and it was playing on the radio, which was obviously a thrill….to hear your own song on the radio. “Sunshine Blue”: Can’t be much said about it, except that it’s one of those songs where you tell your girlfriend goodbye. You’re going back on that road again.

How did Ruby Mazur come to do the album design on Nothin’ Fancy?
Hudson: Let’s see. The first album cover for Heartwood, not the Wants and Needs, but the one we re-recorded in Atlanta…the people, I think it was the graphic arts artist company from Capricorn… they were called Kitty Hawk Graphics, I believe. And they did the Heartwood album cover and I think it was the same people, I’m not positive, but I believe that it was the same people that did both of those album covers.

OK.
Hudson: Now, how they actually got up with Kitty Hawk Graphics to do the first Heartwood album cover I don’t really know. But I love that album cover. The Nothin’ Fancy cover, I think is just a great album cover….And I don’t know if it’s just me or whatever, but occasionally I’ll put that Heartwood album on, and to me, I’d like to get other people’s opinions, but to me, that album doesn’t sound all that dated like a lot of stuff. And probably the first Heartwood album would sound dated. You could say, “Oh yeah, that’s definitely from the ’70s,” or whatever. And maybe some songs on there did sound like that, but I think some of the songs don’t sound much dated at all.

Why do you think that is?

Hudson: Well, I’m not really sure I know the answer to that. But to me it’s really a nice little thing. But, of course, I don’t even know if people agree with that. But that’s just the way it feels to me when I listen to it. It just doesn’t seem all that dated.

It’s like a bunch of guys sitting around on a back porch just playing music because they love to play.
Hudson: Yeah, and I think that’s probably Paul went for us recording all in one big room…all the drums and all the amps in one room…to have that kind of feel to it. It’s just a bunch of guys that love to play getting together and playing together as opposed to, “Oh we’re going to go into a studio and see how technically advanced we can make this sound,” or whatever, ya know?

Sure. Robert, you mention on your Web site that Charlie Daniels and Toy Caldwell were going to appear on the band’s next album. Had you guys been writing or playing with them or were they just were going to kind of show up and help you?
Hudson: No, Paul would’ve produced the next album and he knew those guys and he would’ve probably talked to them about being on the next album. But we didn’t really know them or get to play with them or anything like that.

What finally broke Heartwood up?
Hudson: There was one point…we got together in Greenville and then we moved to Athens, Georgia to be close to the record company that was in Atlanta because once they started booking us and stuff most of our gigs were down in that area: Atlanta, Alabama, ya know, all in that area, so we moved down there. And at one point, I guess, we had been in Athens, maybe a year or something and people started talking, “well, lets think about moving to a different place.” And there was a neat little town up in the mountains of Georgia, I think it’s…I want to say Clayton, but I’m not sure if that’s right or not, but it’s a, anyway, a little town up in the mountains, and we liked it a lot but we kind of got the sense that maybe that wasn’t a wise move because moving up there and being a band that also had a black member, we kind of got the sense that maybe this was not too good of an idea – to move to this area. This was kind of like…dueling banjos. I mean, it was a beautiful area and all, but, so, anyway, we ended up not doing that. So we stayed in Athens and a couple of guys from the band who were from the triangle area of North Carolina, which is Durham, Raleigh, and Chapel Hill…they were really pushing hard to move back up here. So we moved back up to the Chapel Hill area, and that was in January of ’75. And then, about seven or eight months later we decided to disband. Ya know, what happens is…you play music and you are kind of on this one level, and then you kind of get this break and step up to the next level, and then you get another break and you step up to another level. Well, we had stepped up a couple levels and then it kind of just kind of just kind of stayed there. And then once that happened…the fact that we didn’t get a national book agency…that would have been the next step up. Anyway, because we kind of stayed where we were, then it kind of became a job more than what it had been before. And then we just had a meeting one day down…we were playing at this little club north of Myrtle Beach and we just started talking about it, the fact that this is not really what we wanted to do, that this is kind of just become a job. And so anyway we decided to break up, there was no…we all just agreed on it. There was no big fights or anything like that. And so we just decided to break up and that was that.

Do you think that Heartwood will play again together?
Hudson: I don’t know, I guess it’s possible that we could do another one of those reunion parties. It was really hard. We had done one, I think after ten years, and everybody was there but Joe. He wasn’t able to come. And then when we did this, I think it was 25 years, everybody was gonna be able to come but Bill Butler because he had a job that day. And at the last minute it turned out that his job was much earlier than he realized so he was able to get there. So all seven of us were there. Now, whether that would ever happen again…it was so hard to organize. I would be real surprised if that happen but it could. And the other thing is we’ve lost touch with Gary Johnson. I don’t really know where he is, if he’s still alive. He was really having a really hard time the last time we talked to him, which was at that reunion party. He was living in Cary, North Carolina, and he had been up on a ladder painting his house or something, and fell off the ladder and broke his back. And he didn’t have health insurance, so it didn’t heal right. So, from then on he was just in terrible pain all the time. And he was just really in sad shape. And then for a year or two after that party I would call him…yeah, I would call him because he didn’t do email. I’d call him and we’d talk and once in a while we’d get together and have a meal or whatever. And then several years went by and the last time I tried calling his phone number in Cary it was disconnected. So, nobody knows anything about where he is or whatever. So, I mean, I guess the rest of us could get together at some point if we could make our schedules work, I mean, I guess it’s possible. I don’t know.

Well, maybe somebody will read this and know where he is and hook you guys back up again. It’s weird the way the Internet works sometimes.
Hudson: Yeah. It’s really cool because I’ve got this Web site up there. I mean there’s been, not a bunch of people, but there’s been, ya know, quite a few people that have written to me and said, “Ya know, I used to really be a Heartwood fan. Do you have any of the albums on CD or anything like that?” And I could mail ‘em out to them and they were really appreciative. And people said, “I was good friends with so-and-so and could you give me his email address?” or whatever. So, I’ve been able to help a lot of people get reconnected that way and all. So, yeah, the Internet’s an amazing thing.

I wanted to tell you one other little thing about Nothin’ Fancy. We recorded Nothin’ Fancy. It came out. They did another full page ad and billboard for Nothin’ Fancy, Heartwood…da da da. Well, in that same issue there was another band that released an album called Nothin’ Fancy, but it was spelled different, it was Nuthin’ Fancy. And that band was Lynyrd Skynyrd. And we just thought that was pretty bizarre…here comes a, whatever, Billboard Magazine I guess is what it was… and there’s two full-page ads in there for albums with the same name. They just happened to…we both just had albums come out at the same time and they advertised it in the same issue.

I know you both are still involved in music. Can you share what you’ve been up to since Heartwood disbanded?
Hudson: I do two different things. Like, there was a band that I was in for a couple years called Raindance. It was just a straight ahead rock and roll band that I liked a lot. And at some point…right now I don’t have any of the Raindance tunes on my Web site, on the Raindance page, but I’m going to add some.

What I’ve been doing lately that I really love doing is…Brenda Lynn who was in Warm with me…I started playing again with her once she moved to Chapel Hill about five years ago. And she’s much more folky kind of sounding. She’s got a great sound and she’s one of my all time favorite female singers. And if you go to my site you’ll see where it says, “Brenda Lynn,” down under the drummers and there’s a link to her site where you can here the tunes on her album and see…we toured in Ireland and Raindance toured in Ireland too.

I did listen to her and she does have an amazing voice.
Hudson: Oh, OK. With playing that kind of acoustic kind of stuff…and also there was another band called Mr. Mustard that basically was two acoustic guitars, electric bass, and I played this setup I’m gonna tell you about. And we did mainly Beatles’ tunes and stuff. But what this setup consists of is a bass drum and a congo, and a cymbal…and that’s it. Actually, my favorite part of music is actually singing harmony. I like that much better than…I mean I love playing drums, but that’s what I like the best.

Tim, what was the next move for you?
Hildebrandt: The next move was, actually, I approached the record company and said, “I would like to get my songs back,” and I never heard from anybody and got a lawyer and got through all that stuff. And after that, I started playing, just as a single, just writing tunes. And then I joined a band that played up in New York a lot. A little four piece, which was great musicians, a lot of fun, but it was really, it was really hard. I went from, you know, a kind of comfortable lifestyle to a pretty hard lifestyle. I mean hard as far as, you know, New York clubs you start at one in the morning, you know, those kinds of deals. Did that up and down the road in New York for a couple of years. Then started, actually, started working as a recording engineer in the studio, which was a really good studio, in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. I just got completely immersed in the engineering production…actually I told the guy that owned the studio, “I’ll work for you for six months for free if you just show me everything you know.” So, I got coffee, and did the helper thing. Learning the engineering business, then got so involved that I started engineering and producing, and then started getting into studios and getting into acoustical stuff. Right now, I have a studio here at my house and I’ve been the studio stuff for years. I was playing in bands, obviously getting a job with the state so I could get health insurance, all at the same time.

Yeah.
Hildebrandt: The timing is funny, because I actually have a call coming in this afternoon from a guy from a record company here in North Carolina. I just finished writing a song called, “South of the Border,” which is a like an R&B kind of tinge kind of thing. They have a thing called “beach music” here, which is basically old R&B stuff. So, I kind of pointed towards that. And I just got the e-mails today that all the big wigs are just flipping…you know, they love it.

Cool.
Hildebrandt: They wanna do this, they wanna do that. So, I’m supposed to call in this afternoon and supposed to talk about the options as far as moving that thing along. So it’s kinda turning around because I did it in my studio here at the house. I’ve had another song…I actually have a song from the Disney Channel right now, it’s on Even Stevens, which is an after school Disney program. Get some syndication, start making a few pings on that. And the cool thing about it is it’s on Disney, it’s been making money for about five or six years.

Wow.
Hildebrandt: Cause they play it on TV in Denmark…or Brazil. Really weird stuff, free air plays in Egypt or something. It was just incidental music that a friend of mine and I wrote in Nashville cause we were doing all this country stuff. “Let’s just write, a straight up R&B song.” And we did it… one of those like ten minute pieces. Turns out, came back home to North Carolina to take care of my wife’s father because he was sick. I had a bigger studio in North Carolina, and I got a telephone call and this guy says, “Is this Tim Hildebrandt?” “Yeah it’s Tim Hildebrandt.” “This is so-and-so from Disney Productions and we have a song that you wrote and we wanted to know if you, as far as publishing, let us use it for BMI,” and so forth and so on. And I thought it was my friend Tony, the guy I wrote it with, and I said, “Tony get off my back. I got stuff to do. Quit messing with me.” And he says, “No this is so-and-so.” I said, “Yeah, right.” He said, “You got a fax machine?” I said, “Of course I got a fax machine.” He said, “I’ll fax you the contract.” So, here comes this contract. I said, “Whoa.” I go to Nashville to write this R&B song, come back to North Carolina to get it cut. That’s pretty weird. That’s the nature of the business, I guess.

What’s your home studio like?
Hildebrandt: I’m using 24 tracks right now. I’m getting ready to put in Pro Tool systems, actually, on the first of January. We are putting in the pro tools because I did a lot of digital editing and, of course, Pro Tools is, if you know anything about it, it’s the pretty much the de facto standard…90 percent of the records are done with it. Which makes it easy because actually you are dealing with files and non-linear editing and all that stuff so you can shoot stuff back and forth to the studios. Without having to physically be there. And so, that’s what this next phone call is about, as far as taking these tracks and dumping them into pro tools and putting some other sections in, beefing it up. I love it, we actually renovated an old house and actually had the studio built on it so I can actually walk from the kitchen through a couple rooms into the studio…don’t even have to leave home!

And they are finally making me a Web site. Actually, Robert said, “Don’t you think it’s time for you to have a website.” I don’t know. So, actually they are doing that now because they are going to be able to obviously push that other tune on that too.

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Yngwie Malmsteen interview: Sweden’s Stratocaster master

Sweden’s Yngwie Malmsteen is one of rock’s most influential and original guitarists. When most guitarists were woodshedding to copy Eddie Van Halen’s tapping technique in the late ’70s and early ’80s, Malmsteen looked much farther back for his inspiration, to the unlikely world of classical music and composers such as Antonio Vivaldi, J.S. Bach and Wolfgang Mozart. As well, the Italian virtuoso violinist Nicolò Paganini proved to be a major influence on Malmsteen’s playing and approach to his instrument. Studying such maestros, Malmsteen gained a rich harmonic palette and dazzling technique that translated amazingly well into the world of hard rock. Along the way, Malmsteen basically created the “classical metal” genre, one that’s still going strong today.

I spoke with Malmsteen recently about music, recording, his latest album, Perpetual Flame, and his Custom Tribute Fender Stratocaster.

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Is it true that you first arrived in the States with only your guitar and an extra pair of pants?

[laughs] Yeah. See what happened was, I was a musician in Sweden – I started [playing when I was 5 years old - I was in bands when I was like 9 or 10. I was really, really serious, you know? By the time I was 16 or 17, I was a professional - making almost nothing, but that was what I did. When I sent the tape in to Guitar Player - I just did because they said you could do it. I didn’t expect anything. All of the sudden, the phone was ringing off the hook. At the time they called me, they said, “You’ve got to come over to America.” I said, “America? What’s that?” Because that didn’t happen to a kid from Sweden. That wasn’t the thing to do. Later on, a lot of people did that, but at that time nobody did. At the time, I had a girlfriend and a cat and a band - everything. So, I didn’t know what was going to happen. But that’s actually a true story, yeah, and that’s actually the guitar that’s on the Rising Force album.

The classical connection has always been a big part of your music. Steve Hackett has said, “The ability to be able to detach from life is something that classical music offers that rock can't express.” Do you agree with that?

This is a really deep subject, so I’m going to elaborate if you don‘t mind. People have a very big misconception about Mozart and Bach, Beethoven and Vivaldi, and these guys. What they see now is guys in boxes playing scores. And obviously there are some superb orchestras. But you’ve got to remember that when those composers were alive, the way things were played then and composed and performed was completely different. That was today’s music. It wasn’t “classical” music then. That was that moment in time - it’s become classical now. Those guys improvised - those guys were musicians and composers and improvisers. The reason I say improvisers is because that’s a very important thing. I know a lot of people in the classical world, who play classical music today, and they cannot play an improvisation. But that’s how the great guys did it. Improvisation is the genesis of composition. If you don’t improvise, you can’t compose. If you tell most people who play in a symphony orchestra to compose something, they’ll look at you like you’re crazy. They’ll say, “I can’t compose.” They’re trained to play what’s on the paper. My sister is a classically trained musician, and you can put anything in front of her to play and she can play it - play it upside down. “Can you play this in C-sharp instead of B-minor?” She can play it no problem. But if I say, “Hey, can you improvise on this chord progression?” She probably could, but she wouldn’t want to, you know. She wouldn’t feel comfortable. I’ve done a lot of classical stuff because I’ve composed for symphony orchestras. I’ve done a lot of things where I’ve played with symphonies in Europe and Japan and China. They have one thing in common: They follow the conductor like little sheep. That’s perfect, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. It’s very, very interesting to play with those guys because they’re so good at that, you know? But that’s not the way classical music was done back in the day. Of course the ensembles had to play the written piece, but let’s say a piano concerto by Beethoven - before Beethoven went deaf, he used to perform. He would go into a cadenza for 20 minutes! He wouldn’t stop. He would improvise for 20 minutes, and then when he was done, the orchestra came in. These guys were different than most people think they were. And trust me, they’re my ultimate heroes.

You’ve got a guitar concerto under your belt now. Have you thought about writing something specifically for strings and guitar, maybe a duet or quartet piece?

Sure, sure I have. And I kind of do, because every time I compose - whether it’s for a rock band or a symphony - I do it the same way. Obviously, the orchestration is much more complex with a whole symphony. I’ve done things where I’ve re-arranged things - I do a duet for strings with my keyboard player, where I do like a Bach thing. And that’s sort of, to me, like what you’re talking about. Yeah, I do those things. To be honest with you, I’m in a place right now in my life where I really like to rock, man. [laughs]

Where does your musical inspiration come from these days?

It isn’t anything direct. It is so natural, and I swear to God that it doesn’t matter when or where – as soon as I pick the guitar up, it happens. It is composition automatic. It doesn’t stop. It’s like turning a faucet on. It’s ridiculous. And I don’t know exactly how to explain that. Sometimes I’ll come up with something, and it’s gone as quickly as it was there. If I don’t have tape running, it’s gone forever. That’s how it works for me. I don’t know how it happens, but it does.

I also write all the lyrics. And lyrics are completely different. There I draw a very strong influence from books, film, real events and feelings. My car [laughs] – whatever. So that inspiration can come from a lot of different things. But I don’t want to try to explain the music, because that’s like a magic show.

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Perpetual Flame was made in sort of an old school way, refining the songs recording in between touring. What did you like about that approach?

It wasn’t by design, it’s just the way things happened. It did result in something I thought was really interesting, which is being the songwriter, the arranger, the producer – everything that I do – to come back at intervals was actually really good. To come away from it and then go back to it, I’d think, “Wow!” And you’d see it and hear it completely different, almost like an outsider. That was very good for me, because I think the album became more diverse, also more focused. Every time I came in, something appeared to me in a different way.

That’s an interesting approach, to hear your music like an outsider.

Of course, it’s not exactly like an outsider, but it’s much more so. Because first I write. Then I demo and cut the drums. Then I add the bass and guitars and keyboards. Then I write the lyrics, and then the singer comes in, then I start mixing and mastering. It’s all done in one go. You can get too close, you know.

You often call yourself a purist with regards to guitars, amps, cars and watches. What’s your feeling about analog versus digital recording?

I think, through a lot of trial and error, I realized a few things. First of all, digital recording falls and stands on one thing, which is the converters – the amount of bits and hertz that you have. At 96 kHz, 24 bits, you have very good resolution, but it seems that if you have an Apogee – if you have different converters – which it converts analog to digital and digital to analog, because ultimately what you hear is analog in the end. You have to pre-convert it… did you ever see a movie called The Fly? With Jeff Goldblum?

Yeah.

OK. It’s like that. You’re taking something, turning it into nothing and then making it into something again. That’s exactly what digital does. Whereas analog, it’s like an imprint; it’s a photograph with the sound – sound photograph on magnetic tape. Ultimately, this technology started out – I remember the first digital things, and they really sucked. It sounded like shit. It was very popular in the late ’80s for some producers to use these machines. I remember the first album I started using digital [technology] was Odyssey – that was 20 years ago. I didn’t think much about it at the time because we locked up two machines, one analog and one digital. We had two machines locked together. Then we did another album called Eclipse, which was done with digital all together – digital tape. Then after that, I was home in my own studio – I had the big reel-to-reel Studer 2-inch machines, and that’s what I stayed with for a long time. Then a friend of mine, Jeff Glixman – he’s a producer. He got me into the Otari Radar machine, which is a hard disc recorder, and I used to take the Otari and lock it up with a Studer 2-inch. I’d put them together and have the best of both worlds. It was a very good thing for a long time. When I record now, I record real, “live” drums. I don’t sample them. I don’t quantize them. I won’t sequence them. They’re real, live drums played by a real, live drummer.

What a concept.

[laughs] I like that. Yeah. Another thing: When I’m recording guitars, I have live Marshall stacks – on full! As loud as they go. And we put them in a room that’s just big enough for the walls not to be knocked out. [laughs] Yeah. I call it the “Room of Doom.” It’s an actual room with speakers, and I mike it up with some very nice AKG-442s, and I put them through a tube compressor and an equalizer-preamp, and then onto a digital hard disc recorder. And that comes out sounding like a monster, you know? Awesome.

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What are the plans for your new record label, Rising Force, beyond your new album?

Well, it’s only been about a month or so. The new album, Perpetual Flame, is definitely the focal point, but there’s gonna be a lot more of my older stuff coming out. There’s gonna be some new live stuff coming out from this tour. And we’re gonna have other type of releases – books and all sorts of things. Maybe in the future, if we hear somebody really good we’ll sign them up. This is really just the beginning.

“Eleventh Hour” is one of my favorites on the new record. You recorded those strings in Istanbul?

Those guys are string guys, but I just showed them their parts – I had a guitar there – and I just said, “Here. Play, ‘dah, dah, dah, dah.’” And they had one cellist and like six violins and violas – and we double-tracked them a couple times – and it’s just so refreshing. No notes or paper. It was awesome.

You’ve said that the instrumental “Caprici Di Diablo” is the hardest thing you’ve ever played in your life. Apart from the speed of it, what makes it so challenging?

That’s a very good question. What makes it really challenging is the fact – you have A-major, a-minor, D-major, G-major. [hums chord progression] You have a chord progression that goes more than once. I left it very bare. It’s basically just a lead guitar and bass, so there’s nowhere to hide. I wanted it to be very daring, but I wanted it to be structured. I wanted to capture the moment. That was the last thing I did on the record – I kept saying, “Let’s do something else. Let’s do something else,” until there’s nothing left to do, and I had no choice. [laughs] I could go in and play it like a robot – I could play the chords, no problem. I mean, it’s physical, but I could do it. But I didn’t want that: I wanted to capture the moment – I did it pretty much in one take. I don’t like to go back and do it over and over and over, because it never gets any better.

“Live To Fight” has almost a medieval feel at the beginning and a cool groove, and the whole album has sort of an ancient vibe to it. Were you going for that?

You know, I didn’t really go for anything. It was just whatever new material came out, but coming back to it every time from a tour or something like that, I came back and it sounded really different. When it came to songs like “Live To Fight,” that’s when I decided it wasn’t going to work with the old singer. The songs were more or less totally finished when Tim [“Ripper” Owens] came in. I don’t think I had a specific idea, but it was just a natural evolution of things.

If you view the voice as an instrument, how would you describe Tim Owens?

Well, I think that he’s got the power and the range and the vibrato that I like – he’s got all those elements that I really dig, you know? And he sings all the material almost like perfect. It’s a very good match.

You changed singers in the middle of this project. It seems like you’ve had to defend yourself a lot for taking charge of your musical projects. Who knows better what you want than you?

It’s a toughie. What it is, is that I want to have the best guys to form the parts I like. I would probably have to say, even though it sounds a little pretentious, is that I work very much like a classical composer. You know in a Vivaldi concerto, the cellist doesn’t say, “Excuse me. Can I play an f-sharp here instead?” Because that’s the way it is, you know? It’s a funny thing.

Congratulations on your signature Stratocaster. Fender did an amazing job. The detail is stunning, right down to the bite marks.

Yeah. Well, imagine how I feel. They sent me one, and when someone opened the case – because I lent them the real one to copy – and I thought they had sent that one back. I swear to God, man. I’ve had that guitar for 30 years. It [the reproduction] smells the same. It’s sick. I said to [Fender master builder] John Cruz, “How did you guys do this? Is it some sort of alchemy? Is there witchcraft going on there?”

That’s quite an honor.

Oh my God. Yeah!

One of the great things about music is the passing of the torch. I’m sure a lot of today’s players were as inspired to pick up the guitar after hearing “Black Star” as you were from hearing Deep Purple’s “Fireball” or “Demon’s Eye.” That’s a cool circle to be in.

Yeah, absolutely. Not too long ago I went to see Black Sabbath in Miami – they’re called Heaven And Hell now. And I gotta tell you, man, these guys lifted the roof off the place. It was so fucking good. And you know who was opening?

Who?

Alice Cooper. He’s a good friend of mine, as well. Alice was amazing. These guys could be my dad, man. So there’s no reason to say, “OK, I’m done now,” after those shows. It was very cool, because those guys rock harder… I remember a lot of festivals here in the summer – I get to see a lot of bands. Sabbath and Alice Cooper were really rocking. So I hope I can keep it up like that, also. That’s what I want to do, anyway. [laughs]

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Nick D’Virgilio’s tribute to Genesis’ The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway

Nick D\'Virgilio image

In the world of progressive rock, few albums have enjoyed the critical and fan acclaim of Genesis’ The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway. The 1974 release was in many ways the culmination of the musical explorations of Peter Gabriel, Tony Banks, Mike Rutherford, Steve Hackett and Phil Collins – the five had previously recorded the superb triumvirate of Nursery Cryme, Foxtrot and Selling England By The Pound. Whereas those records contained music almost Victorian-like in its expansiveness and theatrics – including the epic “Supper’s Ready” – The Lamb featured tighter, street-tough progressive rock songs fueled by Gabriel’s remarkable lyrics, detailing the story of Rael, a Puerto Rican kid who wanders through New York City, experiencing its many guises.

And the music reflects that. It could be grinding (“The Grand Parade Of Lifeless Packaging”), scary (“In The Cage”), celebratory (“Counting Out Time”) and soothing (“The Carpet Crawlers”). The tunes were heightened by remarkable band performances, such as Hackett’s flowing guitar lines on “Hairless Heart” or Rutherford’s classic bass line on the title track. The 23 songs on Lamb became this Genesis’ lineup’s swan song and their crowning achievement. Though the band would go on to unimaginable commercial success, few Genesis fans would argue that the band ever recaptured the magic heard on their early recordings.

Since its release, The Lamb has become something of legend, always finding its place on any Top 20 list of all-time greatest progressive rock albums. So one could feel a bit of skepticism toward a tribute or any remaking of this seminal album. Why mess with a good thing?

A friendly conversation between Nick D’Virgilio (drummer/vocalist of Spock’s Beard) and producer Mark Hornsby led to the two recording The Lamb in its entirety, titling the project Rewiring Genesis: A Tribute To The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway. As D’Virgilio writes in the liners, “We had been hanging out at the NAMM Show here in LA…and after a few beers and about 10 hours of being at the convention, Mark turns to me and says, ‘Why don’t you come out to Nashville, and let’s record “Slippermen” country-fied or bluegrass-style or something?”

The two hooked up in Nashville, and with the help of some musicians – many who had never heard The Lamb before – they cranked out the record in a few short weeks. Through the D’Virgilio/Hornsby filter, the songs get a fresh coat of paint and life, whether it’s the Bourbon Street glee of “Counting Out Time” or turning the instrumentation on its head on “In The Cage” and others, the result is a victorious interpretation of an old fave. With a clean, bright sound; excellent singing from D’Virgilio (you can understand all the lyrics!), and some spry performances from the backing musicians (guitarist Don Carr is a hero), the songs come to life, emerging from their snug cuckoo cocoon (sorry) to fly free again. In many ways, it sounds like the direction Gabriel and crew might have taken The Lamb into the 21st Century.

D’Virgilio offered his thoughts on remaking this classic album.

1. What were the musical challenges of learning and recording The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway in its entirety?

It is a beast of a piece of art. There are many different feels, time signatures and sounds. I think John Hinchey probably had the biggest challenge – having to do something with all of the synth parts. That are many of them all throughout the record and John just completely nailed it. He adapted strings and horns in such unique ways that it made the songs sound fresh. The other challenges were having a bunch of people who were not very familiar with it learn it and play it, all the vocals, and the mixing. Oh man, there is a lot of music there. The fact we got this thing done in about seven weeks is amazing.

2. Was there anything that surprised you about the music or lyrics?

Something that surprised me is how the music is very soulful once you strip it down to the basic parts. The prog aspect is still there for sure but the parts are very groovy, some parts very bluesy. That is why I always love early Genesis. They made prog groove.

3. How far from the original versions were you willing to stray to give these songs a fresh spin?

There was no plan. We just started recording and wherever we went is where it went. That is how great things like the middle of “Counting Out Time” happened. We were recording the song and all was going along beautifully, Then Dave suggested that the mid section was ripe for a Dixieland band. There was unanimous vote of “Yeah, let’s go for it!” And…we did. That is the kind of thing that made these recording sessions so much fun. The guys came up with things on the spot and we tried them – simple as that. All the guys are such good musicians that is was very natural to trust their ideas.

4. Did you expect that having musicians who were unfamiliar with the album prior to recording could work so well?

I had no idea what to expect with this whole thing. It was after we recorded the first song – we tried “The Colony of Slippermen” – that I knew it could work.

5. The strings and horns on “In The Cage” work perfectly. They give the tune an almost symphonic feel in places. What was your feeling the first time you heard these arrangements?

I loved it. Like I said earlier, John did such a great job arranging the parts. The rest of the song is pretty close to the original. It is the strings and horns that make it.

6. The guitar tone on “Hairless Heart” is very close to Steve Hackett’s. Was Hackett’s sound something you and Don Carr wanted to be faithful to?

You would have to ask Don and Mark about that but I was there when they recorded those parts. From what I remember there was a suggestion to play a more jazzy sounding guitar and to have the track sound like we were at some smoky jazz club just groovin away. We were not going to have strings on there originally but then while doing the vocals I added a back round vocal pad and then when Mark was recoding strings for another song he decided to add them to this song and then all the starts were aligned. It turned out beautifully. It is one of the highlights of the CD for me.

7. “Counting Out Time” has a fantastic Vaudeville-meets-New Orleans feel, and “The Colony of Slippermen” brings in accordion, clarinet and sitar – parts are almost like 21st Century Benny Goodman. And “Riding The Scree” is another incredible arrangement. Your overall interpretation brings this album to life, for me, like a musical.

Thank you. We were not thinking of a musical at the time, but now listening back I see what you mean. I could totally see this on stage. Hopefully one day we can make that happen.

8. One of my complaints about the original record is the sound – it’s sort of muddy. I like the recording approach here. The cleaner sound makes it easier to hear and understand the lyrics. Was that intentional? Your vocals, as well, are really great.

I have heard that, too. But the original had so many great moments. Even with the muddy thing it was and is a classic to so many Genesis fans. I knew before we even started that it was going to SOUND great. Mark is a very talented engineer and Dave’s studio has so much great gear that was going to sound great.

9. Have you received comments from any of the Genesis members about this tribute?

Not yet but we’ll see what happens in the future. It sure would be great if they go on board with this version.

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