Clint Black
Clint Black Knows When There’s a Song In There - By Bill Kopp
Clint Black is a country superstar. Though he spent nearly a decade toiling as a songwriter and performer before landing a record deal in 1987, his career took off like a shot from there. Black has since won a Grammy, an American Music Award, three TNN Music Awards, five Academy of Country Music Awards and four CMA Awards. To date he has placed more than 30 singles on Billboard’s Country chart. He’s made successful forays into film and television as well, but Black’s primary focus remains songwriting and making music. Ahead of a tour that celebrates the 35th anniversary of his smash debut album, Black spoke to Rock On about his early days and the enduring appeal of his music.
Some artists are musicians, and once they get technical proficiency under their belt, they start writing songs. Other people start out as songwriters and learn an instrument so that they can communicate their songs. Which are you?
I learned three chords and then as many songs as I could play with those. And soon after that, I started writing songs. And one of the first songs I wrote – I think I was 18 – was “Loving Blind.” But it stayed in the satchel until the second album [1990’s Put Yourself in My Shoes], when it was a number one hit for me. I wrote “State of Mind” [from 1993’s No Time to Kill] back when I was 18, too.
You were playing music from a young age. Was there a moment when you realized, “I want this to be my life; I want to do this for a living”?
Well, I was playing harmonica first. And I picked up the guitar a couple years later when I was 15 and started playing that around the neighborhood. My friends really thought I was good, and they encouraged me.
But I really had grown up dreaming of being an astronaut. I decided I was either going to join the Air Force in an attempt to make my way into the space program, or I was going to pursue music. I think I was 17 or 18 when I made that call. Fortunately, [with my grades] the Air Force wouldn’t have let me in either way.
You certainly paid your dues in the early and mid ‘80s, but once you got signed, success with “A Better Man” and Killin’ Time came quickly. At the time, were you surprised at how rapidly you shot to the top?
It seemed like a long time. When I got my break, it was two years before “A Better Man,” the first single, was released. And that felt like an eternity, which was what led to the idea for Killin’ Time. Hayden [Nicholas, co-writer] and I were talking about how long it was taking and I said, “I hope it gets started soon, because this killing time is killing me.” And we looked at each other and knew: “Oh, there’s a song in there, right?”
So once the first single came out, we were hitting it really hard. I was doing everything I could possibly do to promote it; I’d go out and sing everywhere. I just kept my head down and kept going. I knew I had a lot of muscle behind me to get the word out and promote the song, but it took five and a half months before it reached number one.
To me, that seemed like a long time, but I didn’t know anything. And I also didn’t know that just doesn’t happen very often. So once I learned that, when I realized how unlikely that was, I never took it for granted. I never looked at it like, “Yes, this should happen.” It was more like, “I can’t believe that happened!” It became a marvel to me.
During your major label years, did you come up against people in the business trying to tell you how to sound or what kind of songs to write?
Well, my songwriting was a huge point of contention. I think by the time the second album came out, the first album was Double Platinum [2 million copies sold]. And the second album went Platinum, too. By the time the third album [1992’s The Hard Way] came out, it did well, but not as well as Killin’ Time. Then the label came at me and wanted me to record outside songs, but I had three albums’ worth of songs written; all would go on to be on my subsequent albums. And I just felt like, “Well, you know, I wrote these other hits, and I should get to write the next set of hits.”
They didn’t push too hard, but they continued to come at me and insist that my hit songs were hits, but they weren’t selling enough records. And I thought, “Well, I think Platinum’s pretty good. If that’s all I ever do again, you know, then I think that’s okay. And I just want to do my work.” It finally came to a head with the extra songs. I gave them new songs for the Greatest Hits [released 1996]. I just had to once and for all establish that, “I write my songs, and if I run out of them, I understand we have to go find some others.”
They didn’t want me when my contract was up, and I didn’t want them anymore. And every major label I talked to after I left RCA had seen all that, and rumors were leaked about our points of contention. The other labels didn’t want the songwriter, they wanted the singer. And I wouldn’t do it. So I never went back to the major label system after that. And I’m still writing my own songs.
I feel like I’m just lucky to be able to make records and tour the way I want. I tour and play over 80 cities a year; I love my audience. I would have probably sold more records if I had let them go and find songs, but that’s not why I’m here.
What do you think it is about your gimmick-free, neo-traditional approach to country that resonates so strongly?
Well, the music has to appeal, first of all. My approach is that whoever I’m working with in the studio – whether they’re my band or a conglomeration of my band and others, or completely just session players – they’re a band that day. And my approach is to make a record with a great band and then not gimmick it up. So 20 years from now, if you hear it, you don’t quite know what era it’s from; it’s not trendy. I just want to remain timeless, and I think that’s part of it. I think that’s why we see artists like Zach Top, Riley Green and Cody Jinks making this traditional kind of music and becoming so popular so fast.
And I think the lyrics are really the key. I think you have to touch the heart or tickle the funny bone. You can say something either clever or deep, but it has to be understood on the surface level. You’re not singing to professors of sociology and poetry! [The listener] needs to get it, and get it right away. And then as you live with it, you can discover the layers beneath the lyrics and all of the hidden meaning in there. And maybe even over time, as your life evolves, it takes on new meaning because you’ve lived and now you see it from a different perspective.
2024 has marked the 35th anniversary of Killin’ Time, and your current concert tour celebrates that. With such a large body of work, what do you think it is all these years later that stands out about your debut album?
I think it was “Killin’ Time,” the song, that made such a mark. I’ve heard from so many people how that was the anthem for them in high school, or that it just appealed to them as one of the best country songs. People like “A Better Man” and “Nothing’s News” and “Walkin’ Away” and “Nobody’s Home,” too. There were five hits [four #1 and one #3 – ed.] off of that album, but by an overwhelmingly large margin, “Killin’ Time” just sticks out as the song that people latched onto.
Clint Black’s 35th Anniversary of Killin’ Time Tour comes to Reno’s Grand Sierra Resort and Casino on January 31.
Tom Segura: Making the Magic Happen - By Bill Kopp
Tom Segura: Making the Magic Happen - By Bill Kopp
Tom Segura: Making the Magic Happen - By Bill Kopp
Tom Segura is one busy guy. For 15 year running he has co-hosted Your Mom’s House, a weekly podcast with his wife, fellow standup comic Christina Pazsitzky. He also co-hosts the Two Bears One Cave podcast with Bert Kreischer. Segura has written and acted in films, and his book of delightfully curmudgeonly essays, I'd Like to Play Alone, Please was published in 2022. As a standup comic, Segura has released two albums, and has starred in no less than five Netflix specials; the most recent is 2023’s Sledgehammer.
In between his various commitments, Segura – who has two kids at home – manages to find time for touring; his current Come Together Tour first takes him to nearly two dozen cities across the U.S. From there he heads to the UK for a week-long run, then it’s back to the USA – kicking off at New York City’s Madison Square Garden – for nearly two dozen more dates. On a break between taping podcasts, Tom Segura spoke with Rock On about the art and craft of standup comedy.
Tom Segura: Making the Magic Happen - By Bill Kopp
Tom Segura: Making the Magic Happen - By Bill Kopp
How much of your observational standup is recounting actual things that have happened to you, and how much is completely the product of your imagination?
I’ve always had the mindset of “Just take your real observations.” Obviously, you embellish and you exaggerate. But it’s really about having an awareness in a moment, because the moments can happen. And if you’re not tuned into trying to do it for standup, you lose it. But if your mind goes there, you basically hit “record” in your brain, and then you try to take it to the stage. That’s the way that I try to do it.
So is your “antenna” always on?
Well, I wish I could say it was always on. I think there’s this natural thing that happens sometimes: You’re doing standup for a while and sometimes you get frustrated. Because the lifeline for any standup is new material. And whenever you’re frustrated at your lack of new material, it’s because your antenna isn’t up. So you’ve gotta be like, “I gotta put myself in the mindset. I can’t go through the day without considering it.” And whenever it’s tuned the right way, that’s when [you’ll be] really happy with [the material] you’re coming up with.
Are there certain subjects that tend to work especially well for you, or is it just anything and everything?
I love the mundane. I love the conversation with the door guy and the security guard, things that you would normally discard as far as being of entertainment value. I love the little nuances to awkward conversation, and then focusing on that and finding the comedy in there. I think that’s a great source of standup.
So are interpersonal relationships: You pay attention to what your kids said. Kids are a great source of material, but that also goes for wife, mom, sister, friends. You try to find a perspective to that conversation that is a little off, a little to the left. And then you go, “Oh, there’s something here.” For me, a source of standup material is having those conversations and then bringing them to the stage and pointing out what lens you saw it through.
I would think that approach yields material that’s going to be relatable for people: “Yeah, I’ve talked to some guy on the street, too.”
Exactly. I remember talking about being frustrated at a real conversation where I said “How you doing?” to a guy, and then he told me in detail how he was doing. I was like, “Yeah, that’s not what this is, man.”
So that exchange in the bank lobby actually happened!?
That was real, man. And it was a great example of the antenna you mentioned. Because I could have just kept going, but it sat with me. And that’s what you find in standup: If something sits with you, you owe it to yourself and the audience to talk about it. And that’s what happened with that.
Are there any topics that you make a point of avoiding?
Not really. But politics is one where I’m like, “Well, there’s so many people that do that well.” I’ve had political jokes at different times, but that’s because [something] is sitting with you and your brain’s telling you that you want to say this. But I know that’s a world that other people do really well.
Has one of your routines ever fallen flat? And if so, how did you deal with it?
Oh, my God. There’s so many times that it’s hard to pinpoint one.
There’s this thing where you can forget to connect. I call it pressing “Play” on your act. If you get on stage and you just go, “I’m going to press ‘Play’ and do the act,” it loses this connection that you need with an audience. And I’ve fallen into that trap before. You’ve got to remind yourself that it is all about connecting with an audience. The more you connect with them, the more you can go anywhere with them.
But I’ve also done things like not read the room well and just went forward on something. Or you can dismiss an audience member: You wanted to shut them down, but it reads the wrong way to them, and then all of a sudden you’re the bad guy. It doesn’t matter what level you’re on as a standup; you still have to earn their respect and trust to go places.
Your wife – and podcast co-host – is a comic as well. Do you ever come up with material together and then have to decide who gets it?
That has happened. We’ve been in conversation and kind of tagging each other’s stuff. Someone says something, you say something, then they say something. And then at the same time you both say, “That’s mine!”
And how do you resolve that?
She wins.
How has your comedy changed in the years since you started?
It’s become more personal. I think it’s a natural progression that happens to most comedians. When you start, you don’t have the skill set to naturally go, “I’m going to talk about my life.” So the way that most comedians start is, “Hey, I watched a TV show…” or versions of standing back and observe the world. It’s underdeveloped through the eyes of a seasoned comedian, because only a seasoned comedian can really get up there and be like, “Here’s what happened today.” New comics – myself included – don’t really have that skill set. But you’re trying.
People say that the goal in standup is for the person you are off stage to be the person you are on stage. And the only way to do that is to do it for a long time. That’s why when you see somebody who’s in their 50s or 60s – as we do with standups [who have been working for] 30, 40 years – that level of comfort they have, you can’t manufacture it.
The funniest version of you off stage is the best standup comedian that you are. But you get on stage, you tighten up and you want to make sure there’s not a lull. So you do these little maneuvers to get you through that discomfort. But the longer you do it, that discomfort can shed. Then you’re really being yourself up there. And that’s the ultimate goal.
On the Your Mom’s House podcast, how much of what you say and do is storyboarded out ahead of time, and how much of it is you just riffing in the moment?
It’s mostly a riff. Sometimes on Your Mom’s House, we’ll have a pre-show meeting: “Hey, let’s make sure we don’t forget to talk about this topic, or play this video.” So it’ll be a bullet point. I have some thoughts on it, but it doesn’t really go much further than that until you’re actually recording. I think it makes it more fun, makes it more spontaneous.
I know there are people who have fully written out stuff for podcasts – which I always found odd – but they’re also really detailed joke bits that they want to get in. And there’s a way to do that. But for us, it’s really just talking points, and then we get into it live. Because that’s really where the magic happens: in the moment.
Tom Segura comes to the Grand Sierra Resort Theatre on January 25.
Countdown to Christmas: Ten Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Songs About Santa Claus
By Bill Kopp
The enduring myth of Santa Claus has been a part of Western culture for centuries. The modern concept of Santa was captured on “Must Be Santa,” the 1960 novelty single by Mitch Miller: “cap on head, suit of red, special night, beard that’s white.” But that modern image had settled into the popular mindset decades earlier when the Coca-Cola Company included depictions of Santa in its print advertising.
As a ubiquitous and beloved character in pop culture, it was inevitable that Santa Claus would find his way into one of the 20th century’s foremost vehicles for arts and entertainment: rock ‘n’ roll. In celebration of the season, Rock On takes a chronological look at ten rock ‘n’ roll classics featuring jolly old Saint Nick (plus a mischievous bonus track that pokes fun at the holiday music subgenre). And as our Christmas gift to you, a Spotify playlist with these songs can be found at https://tinyurl.com/rocknrollsanta
#10
“Little Saint Nick” – The Beach Boys (single, 1963)
An American institution, the Beach Boys released their first single in 1961. By ‘63 they were one of the most popular groups in the nation. Bassist, primary songwriter and leader Brian Wilson was still coming into his role as one of pop music’s most important figures when the group made The Beach Boys’ Christmas Album, their seventh long-player. Released as a single from that LP, “Little Saint Nick” (backed with non-album track “The Lord’s Prayer”) made it to #25 on Billboard’s singles chart in December 1963.
#9
“Sock it to Me Santa” – Bob Seger & the Last Heard (single, 1966)
Detroit rocker Bob Seger enjoyed his most widespread success beginning in the mid 1970s, with blockbuster albums Night Moves, Stranger in Town and Live Bullet. But Seger was no overnight success: he worked hard in the studio and onstage for years before his big break. In the 1960s he released a number of catchy singles including the satirical “Ballad of the Yellow Beret.” With his band the Last Heard, he released five singles including this somewhat overlooked (and non-charting) holiday-themed tune.
#8
“Back Door Santa” – Clarence Carter (single, 1968)
A funky blues with a deep groove and soulful horns, “Back Door Santa” is a swaggering tune filled with sly double entendres, exploring the metaphorical meanings in words like chimney and the phenomenon of “coming but once a year.” Blind since birth, the Alabama-born singer, guitarist and producer chalked up two dozen charting singles including 1968’s “Slip Away” (pop #6, r&b #2) and “Patches (pop #4, r&b #2).
#7
“I Believe in Father Christmas” – Greg Lake (single, 1975)
Emerson Lake & Palmer were renowned for their progressive rock pyrotechnics and virtuoso musicianship. Lead vocalist, guitarist and bassist Greg Lake was also a top-notch lyricist, with a sonorous voice. This acerbic look at the holidays features some of his best lyrics, including the memorable couplet, “Hallelujah noël / be it Heaven or Hell / the Christmas we get we deserve.” “I Believe in Father Christmas” was released as a Greg Lake single, but it was also included on ELP’s 1977 album Works Vol. 2.
#6
“Father Christmas” – The Kinks (single, 1977)
Led by brothers Ray and Dave Davies, London-based band the Kinks went through several phases during their time together (1963-1997). Starting off as a hard-driving, r&b based group, they blossomed into a sophisticated and literate outfit featuring Ray’s superb and insightful lyrics. By the late ‘60s and early ‘70s they had moved toward conceptual works, but by the mid-to-late ‘70s they were back in hooky, hard-rocking territory and mainstream success. Their holiday-themed 1977 single combines all of the band’s best attributes: humor, wit and melody.
#5
“Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” – Bruce Springsteen (single, 1981)
“Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town” is the oldest song on this list. First published in 1934, the tune was first popularized by singer Eddie Cantor. The song quickly became a standard, covered in performance and in recordings by more than 200 artists representing most every musical genre. In 1981, The Boss himself released his own version, recorded live onstage six years earlier at C.W. Post College on Long Island, New York. The track also appeared on In Harmony 2, an all-star compilation of children’s music.
#4
“I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” – John Mellencamp (from A Very Special Christmas, 1987)
Dating from the early 1950s, the romantic and easy listening “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” has been recorded countless times. Wacky bandleader Spike Jones was one of the first to cover it; his 1952 version was a Top Ten single. The Ronettes’ Phil Spector-produced recording was a highlight of their 1962 LP A Christmas Gift For You. Pop royalty the Jackson Five covered the song on their own Christmas album, released at the height of their popularity in 1970. Heartland rocker John Mellencamp waxed his own version for a late ‘80s all-star compilation benefiting the Special Olympics.
#3
“Here Comes Santa Claus” – Los Straitjackets (from ‘Tis the Season for Los Straitjackets, 2002)
Nashville’s Los Straitjackets have carved out a unique corner of the rock world all their own, breathing new life into the surf-instrumental rock genre. Clad in Mexican luchador wrestling masks, the foursome write top-flight songs, but they also turn classics on their heads while remaining faithful to the musical values that made the songs special. A nod to their heroes the Ventures – who made a classic Christmas album of their own in 1965 – Los Straitjackets’ reading of “Here Comes Santa Claus” is full of sparkle, spirit and verve.
#2
“The Man With All the Toys” – Husky Team (from Christmas in Memphis, 2003)
This classic first appeared on The Beach Boys’ Christmas Album (see above), but 40 years later some of rock’s most inventive artists revived the tune. In the hands of Husky Team – a who’s-who assemblage led by Smithereens drummer Dennis Diken and producer/multi-instrumentalist Dave Amels – “The Man With All the Toys” and other classics are recast as inventive instrumentals that brilliantly reference classics from Memphis legends like Sam & Dave, Booker T & the MGs, the Box Tops and more.
#1
“Santa Make Me Good” – The Grip Weeds with Mark Lindsay (from Under the Influence of Christmas, 2011)
Named after Private Gripweed, John Lennon’s character in the 1966 black comedy How I Won the War, New Jersey’s Grip Weeds have been making original music since 1988. Combining Who-like energy with the allure of classic psychedelia and the immediacy of power pop, the group has been turning out album after album of memorable, melodic rock. In 2011 they took a bit of a turn, making a holiday-themed album featuring special guest stars. “Santa Make Me Good” found the band working with Mark Lindsay, the legendary, powerful-voiced and ponytailed front man of Paul Revere and the Raiders.
Bonus
“Christmas With the Devil” – Spin̈al Tap (from Break Like the Wind, 1992)
Subjects of the groundbreaking 1984 “mockumentary,” the group featuring actor-musicians Michael McKean, Christopher Guest and Harry Shearer wrote and performed their own music. Like the film itself, those songs were knowing parodies of countless rock tropes, especially ones – like bad taste, for example – associated with heavy metal. Six years after the film, the band returned with Break Like the Wind, an album showcasing this riotous inversion of holiday cheer and featuring jokey lyrics like “Silent night, violent night!” It was all in good fun, of course.
BEAT: 21st Century Crimson Men
By Bill Kopp
Formed in 1969 in London, King Crimson was at the vanguard of progressive rock. Led by innovative guitarist Robert Fripp, the band made some of the most boundary-pushing, uncompromising music ever heard. But in the group’s original run (1969-1974) King Crimson went through myriad changes; though they released eight albums, no lineup stayed together long enough to make a second record.
That changed when the group resumed operation in 1981. A quartet featuring two British musicians (Fripp and former Yes drummer Bill Bruford) and two Americans (guitarist Adrian Belew and Chapman stick player Tony Levin) debuted a different, even more forward-looking sound. This new Crim drew inspiration from industrial and so-called world music, with a strong improvisational approach that connected it to earlier lineups. The ‘80s King Crimson would make three acclaimed albums before it, too, went inactive.
King Crimson would return for two more extended runs, finally going out on a high note and calling it a day in 2021. But the appeal of the 1980s lineup has long held a special place in the hearts and minds of listeners. And those fans were given a true gift when the formation of BEAT was announced: a new quartet featuring two members of the ‘80s King Crimson lineup would be joined by two more world-class virtuoso players: guitar wizard Steve Vai and Tool drummer Danny Carey.
BEAT is in the midst of a 60-plus date North American tour, bringing the game-changing music of 1980s King Crimson to 21st century concert audiences. Ahead of the tour, Rock On spoke with guitarist, singer, songwriter and project leader Adrian Belew.
The ‘80s lineup of King Crimson was radically different from what had come before; it had its own distinct sound and sensibility. How closely will BEAT follow the sound, character and structure of those arrangements?
Well, I’m in charge of picking the arrangements and the songs. And I think some of them have essentials that have to be followed. There’s not much reason to fool with certain things; they are what they are, and people will want to hear them that way. It will never be exactly like the record, because I don’t want Steve Vai or Danny Carey to play exactly like the record. I want them to be themselves. And I think that’s what the audiences want.
But I think having Steve Vai in the band, for example, there’s a lot of places where I see that we could gradually develop outward from there on our own. I mean, I want to see him playing Steve Vai stuff, and I want to hear that myself. He sends me a video almost every day showing me where he is in his journey of finding everything, and I can see that he’s getting more and more comfortable with all of it. And I’m coaching him a little bit, saying, “That part right there, you don’t have to play it like Robert [did]. You can do your own sounds.”
I feel it may be close to the original stuff a bit more at the beginning, but we have 65 shows. And we’re not a cover band; we’re gonna develop it. The idea is to celebrate the music, but it’s also to push it forward in our own ways and make it more in sync with what is happening now.
Personally, though, I have gone back and taken great lengths to find some of the sounds that I had back then, which are now pretty hard to find. And I’ve changed my own gear to be half modern and half vintage. A big part of that [‘80s Crimson] sound was two things in the guitar world.
There was the running dual guitar, things that were clean sounding on songs like “Three of a Perfect Pair” and “Frame by Frame.” And then there were the different things that each of us did in our own way. Robert with his type of soloing, and me with all my crazy sounds and my soloing.
And then there were the synthesizer parts on songs like “The Sheltering Sky.” The essence of that sound has a lot to do with the [Roland] GR300 guitar synth of that era. Roland has released two new synthesizers that can do some of that, and Steve will be using some of the new stuff. I’ve heard what he’s doing with it, and it’s very good. But I’m going to use my original GR 300.
I don’t think I’ve seen anybody play a GR300 in decades!
No, you haven’t.
In revisiting the material from Discipline, Beat and Three of a Perfect Pair, have you made any new discoveries about those pieces?
I knew what Bill [Bruford] was doing because I’m [also] a drummer, and he was my favorite drummer at the time anyway. But the surprising thing to me was how many things I discovered that the other guys were doing. I was so busy taking care of my roles, writing the material and then touring; it was all just a race against time. And so I didn’t always have the time to check out: “Wow. Tony Levin is playing one of our ‘guitar’ parts right there!”
But it’s more to do with what Robert and Tony were doing that surprises me now. And it’s always amazing. When I look back at our live shows, I think, “Oh, my gosh, how did I do that?” But I’m not trying to do it note-for-note the same way now anyway. But I feel like I’ve got a leg up in the sense that I do know some of it and I will be attacking it in that way.
And yet playing with the new [gear] that I have available now, there are so many exciting guitar things that I want to apply to that music.
When I first heard the Discipline LP, I remember thinking that there was really no precedent for what King Crimson was doing. Did you have a sense at the time that the four of you were really blazing new paths?
I thought there was nothing at all like it. For one thing, every one of us had new technologies at our fingertips that no one else had used. Both Robert and I had guitar synthesizers. Bill was the first person silly enough to try to make electronic drums work. And then Tony Levin walked in with this thing called the Chapman stick, something you’d never even seen before.
So I knew the musical language of what we were doing was going to be different, no matter what. And it was a time period when there was a lot of freedom and creativity. At least in our line of the music business, but maybe not in the mainstream. But it was a time when you really felt like you could do those kinds of things, and King Crimson were definitely the people to do it.
Someone told me once, “You guys have a license to kill.” And I think that’s true, because we could do whatever we wanted. We weren’t trying to be the next big thing; we weren’t trying to write hit songs or be on the radio or anything. We were just trying to create something no one had ever heard.
BEAT strikes me as an opportunity for that music to get some of the recognition that it didn’t get the first time around…
Absolutely. And that’s another reason to do it. That’s another thing I thought: “That music, those records deserve a second chance. They are pretty timeless. They sound brand new. They sound fresh.” There’s still nothing like it.
Psychedelic Furs
Psychedelic Furs
Psychedelic Furs
By Bill Kopp-
The Psychedelic Furs burst onto the London postpunk scene in 1977. As the group’s name suggests, the Furs came on strong with a dark, brooding approach that drew from punk and ‘60s psychedelia, setting them apart from many of their contemporaries. From the start, their rough-hewn sound was a hit with critics, earning the band an underground following.
Led by brothers Richard (vocals) and bassist Tim Butler, The Psychedelic Furs broke through with their third LP, 1982’s Forever Now. A single from that record, “Love My Way” was an international hit and a U.S. Top 40 single. The band got another commercial boost in 1986 when a re-recorded version of the title track from their second album was used as the theme song for a popular John Hughes-directed film. The group continued with well-received albums and tours into the early 1990s, and then the Butler brothers put the band on hiatus, launching another group, Love Spit Love.
But by 2000, the group restarted, and has continued ever since. Unlike many of their contemporaries, though, the Psychedelic Furs have written and released new material rather than coasting on the success of decades past. The Psychedelic Furs come to the Grand Sierra Resort on Sunday, November 3, sharing a bill with The Jesus and Mary Chain. Rock On spoke with Tim Butler about the Psychedelic Furs’ past, present and future.
Psychedelic Furs
Psychedelic Furs
When the Psychedelic Furs’ self-titled debut album was released in 1980, it was remarkably different from much of what was going on musically at the time. In those early days, what was the vision for what the group wanted to do?
There was not really any concrete vision. When we started out, we couldn’t really play well, so we sort of went for more of the Velvet Underground-y, elongated songs. We’d jam around and stuff, trying to work out our instruments, basically. The whole sound of songs like “India” was just everybody [in the band] trying to be noticed; it was like a wall of chaos. We were huge Roxy Music fans, too. Because Roxy Music has very interesting song arrangements; not your usual verse / chorus / middle eight / verse/ chorus. So we took our cues from those two bands.
Todd Rundgren produced your third album, Forever Now. That choice was controversial in some quarters; everyone seemed to have an opinion about it. What were your feelings about it at the time?
We thought it was great. We – especially Vince [Ely], our drummer at the time – were big fans of his. We were wanting to move on to start using strings and horns. Todd had produced an album called Faithful, with covers of songs by the Beach Boys and other bands in that era; he used strings and other interesting instruments and arrangements. So we thought he was a perfect choice when he offered to produce Forever Now, and we went into it really excited.
Along with Made of Rain, it’s my favorite Furs album.
From where did the idea come to have Flo and Eddie [Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan of the Turtles] sing on that album?
That was Todd. And at first we didn’t want it; we were like, “Oh, they’re a couple of old farts from the ‘60s.” Todd said, “I don’t want to use them [just] as ‘backing vocalists.’ I want to use them as a different instrument, because of their vocal ranges.” So they came in. We didn’t go to the studio with them, because we were dead against it, but we allowed Todd to try it out. And when we heard “Love My Way,” we were like, “Okay! What else can we use them on?” We were totally sold. They’ve done backing vocals for everybody; they’re a couple of cool guys.
Another thing that set that song apart was the fact that we used marimba. That was an idea we had when we made demos in England. And it made a refreshing sound on the radio: Todd on marimbas, and Flo and Eddie.
Tell me about a Psychedelic Furs track that you feel is perhaps overlooked among listeners.
I’d say “Only You and I” from Forever Now. It’s not often pointed out as a fan favorite, but it’s one of my favorite tracks. I think it’s great because of the song structure, which was a move up for us after [1981’s] Talk Talk Talk.
The 1980s were a time when pop songs started being added to film soundtracks. How did the use of “Pretty in Pink” in the film of the same name affect the group’s trajectory and fortunes?
Oh, it was good and bad. It was good because it got us through to a lot more people. But the bad is that a lot of our hardcore original fans thought we’d sold out, so they gave up coming to see us!
Thank goodness now, those fans – and younger fans – are coming back to see us. I guess they’ve forgiven us for the pop faux pas!
In 2020, the Psychedelic Furs defied the odds and released an album of all new material, Made of Rain. Forty years after your debut, you made an album that got great critical notices. Not many bands from the ‘80s have been able to do something like that. Why do you think that you succeeded in that regard where other bands have not?
When we got back together, it took us a while to have the confidence and the nerve to record songs. We had songs, but we were sort of worried that [some of them] weren’t going to fit in with our catalog. But when we finally had songs that we thought were great, we did it pretty quickly.
We didn’t go to the studio wanting to recreate the sound from the eighties; during the time in between, you’d hear other music and you’d get influences. So we went in there and put our heads together.
What’s great about Made of Rain is that the songs were played in one or two takes; we rehearsed them, but then we went in, recorded one or two takes and picked the best one. And then we overdubbed over the top of that, which gave it a freshness, as opposed to rehashing over and over again, which we did on [1987’s] Midnight to Midnight. We took too long on that one; it’s overproduced and lacking a certain energy.
Is the band continuing to work on new material?
Yes, but as with Made of Rain, we’re not forcing ourselves to [work within] any particular time. Basically, we’re still promoting Made of Rain, because when it came out, Covid was happening; we couldn’t tour. So we’re sort of making up for that. After the tour, we’ll probably think about writing new songs.
Does the set list for the current tour survey the Psychedelic Furs’ entire history?
Oh, yeah. On this tour, we just got back from Spain, and we’ve been playing some songs that are much demanded but that we had rarely or never played live. So I think the audience will be really happy.
Forty-plus years on with the Psychedelic Furs, what keeps it interesting for you?
Just going out there and playing for the audience and getting the reaction from them; there’s nothing better. There’s no drug that could replace seeing an audience singing your songs while you’re playing them. It makes all the work we put into it worthwhile.
Juda Priest
Judas Priest’s Ian Hill: Bassist for the High Priests of Metal - By Bill Kopp
Judas Priest roared out of industrial Birmingham, England in the early 1970s. Once the group found its footing – bringing on powerful, operatic and charismatic lead singer Rob Halford – Judas Priest’s hard-charging, twin-lead guitar attack broke through in a big way. Leaders in the new wave of British heavy metal movement, Priest earned critical praise and widespread popularity. The band racked up more than a decade’s worth of hit albums; every album from 1977’s Sin After Sin through 1990’s Painkiller went gold or better.
And the band is going strong today, more than 50 years after the release of its first record. Judas Priest’s latest, Invincible Shield serves up the group’s patented metal for modern-day audiences. Just ahead of a North American tour that brings Judas Priest to more than two dozen cities, bassist and founding member Ian Hill spoke with Rock On about the band’s early days, its rise to fame, and the new music it’s still making.
Judas Priest toiled for years before really hitting the big time. What do you think explains that relatively slow climb to being a success?
There's no such thing as an overnight success. There's only a decade's hard work going into the overnight success. I think you can put it down pretty much to one song.
We've been together since 1969. We were learning our trade and just building up locally. We were having a steady build with the first record, Rocka Rolla, which came out in ‘74. It was released by a small record company called Gull; I think they were sort of hoping that we would make them [successful] rather than the other way around. It became apparent that they really hadn't got the financial clout to get us abroad, especially to America. Getting all the gear and whatever to America for a tour would have cost quite a bit of money, and they just didn't have the funds.
Long story short, we ended up with CBS Records in ‘76. At the time they were one of the biggest record companies. This was in the days when record companies were prepared to wait for their profits; they could see potential not just with us, but other acts as well. And they [understood], “Okay, we're not going to make money overnight with this lot, but we’ll stick with them and we'll earn it in the long run.”
And that's what happened: We had a steady build right up to [our eighth album, 1982’s] Screaming for Vengeance. We started recording that in a small island in Spain called Ibiza, and finished it off at Beejay Studios in Orlando, Florida. But we were one song short on the album.
This was in the days of vinyl; you could only get so much music on a record before [the quality] started to deteriorate. The grooves got closer together, they got shallower, less information; what have you. But we discovered we could squeeze one more on, so we threw together “You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’.” And mainstream radio picked it up and played the hell out of it!
My lasting memory of starting that tour was that [small-venue] gigs were being canceled and [new dates at] larger venues were pouring in. And it was all because of the heavy airplay that we got with that song. That lifted the band’s status from playing town halls – Agora Ballrooms and things like that, 5,000 people, maybe 6,000 at a push – and suddenly we played to ten or twelve thousand people. And I believe that it was all down to that one track.
Some bands find success with an album and spend the rest of their careers making that record over and over again. Judas Priest has been consistent; you always seemed to be moving forward. Was that by design?
Yeah; we tried to build with each album, try and get better. You're learning stuff every day, and we still are, even after all these years. Sometimes – one or two instances – we’ve stepped sideways, but we try to step forward. And I think it's why, when you look out at the audience even now, there's a hell of a lot of young faces down there. And when I say young, I'm not talking about 40 or 50. I'm talking late teens, early twenties. They're singing along to the lyrics, not just to the new album, but to all the older stuff as well.
We’ve stayed relevant over the years, and that’s enabled us to make that contact with the younger audience. If you didn't know who we were and listen to Invincible Shield or Firepower, for instance, we could be any new, up-and-coming band. We've kept up that momentum.
Invincible Shield has done really well, and in a lot of places. It did well on the charts here in the US. It went Top Ten in the UK, France and Norway. And it made it to number one in Germany, Sweden and Switzerland. What do you think explains the enduring popularity of what Judas Priest is doing?
The essence of the band, the signature sound is all-important. Obviously there's been changes with Richie [Faulkner] taking over from Ken [K.K. Downing, longtime guitarist]. Richie's been with the band now for 12, 13 years; [other] bands have come and gone in that time. And of course, initially, he was trying to fill in for Ken, doing Ken's parts. But he's had Glenn right there with him, giving him the hints and the pointers. When we started to record albums with Richie, he could be himself. He could be Richie Faulkner rather than “Richie Downing.” And he sort of blossomed.
And Andy [Sneap] is now standing in for Glenn [Tipton], who unfortunately is not able to do a great deal these days. And the same thing happened with Andy, you know, when he became apparent that Glenn wasn't going to be able to do tours.
He was the perfect choice; he had just produced Firepower, so he was familiar with all of the new stuff. And he was a fan of the band anyway.
So it’s all worked out; it’s worked a treat. The band sound has been able to remain there, recognizable all the way through those changes.
You were 17 when you joined the band. If someone could travel back in time and tell that 17 year-old, “When you're 72, you're still going to be playing with Judas Priest,” how do you think he would have reacted?
I wouldn't have believed it! The thing is, an artist at 72 years of age, still belting out contemporary music back then in the late ‘60s, that simply didn't exist. Bing Crosby was in his sixties. Sinatra was in his early fifties. The thought of somebody jigging about on stage at 72? “No, people die when they're 72!” So it wouldn't have made any sense at all.
I think everybody gets a watershed moment when you have to make that decision: Are you going to make it a go or not? And it happened for me around 1972. We were getting gig offers that were coming in from 300 miles away on a Wednesday night. And if you've got a job, you can't do that! You finish work, you go back home, get yourself cleaned up, load the stuff in the van, go do the gigs, and then back home for work the next morning.
So you’ve got to make that decision. We all had the kind of jobs that you could sort of walk into any day: heavy industrial based jobs. So we all said, “Yeah, let's give it a go!”
It could have been different. And we never would have known, would we? But with hindsight, you look back, and going with Judas Priest was a good decision.