GRAHAM PARKER: Discovering Élan

"When we first started, I felt that I was the only person doing this."

GRAHAM PARKER: Discovering Élan

Features

by

Nigel Burnham

LONDON—Graham Parker’s now 28, he’s barely begun his career in rock (less than four years ago, he was serving in a gas station), and he’s already been called “one of the decade’s great white R&B artists.” In recent months, nevertheless, much has been made of the fact that Parker has still not achieved the kind of record sales critics expect of a man of his caliber/reputation; much has also been made of Parker’s return on Squeezing Out Sparks to the horn-less simplicity of Howlin' Wind. After his Australian tour, changes (it is predicted) are inevitable in the Parker camp’s policy.

By now, however, Geep is plowing through his month-long Antipodean tour, and, recollecting the fervor with which his first one was received, he’s looking forward to it.

Why are you going to Australia and New Zealand, and to nowhere else? Wouldn't it be more logical to do it as part of a world tour, or at least to throw in Japan?

“Well, we were going to go to Japan, but seeing as it’s our last record for Phonogram in Japan, the promoter phoned up about three weeks before the tour was arranged, and said, ‘Look, Phonogram aren’t helping us at all, we ain’t gonna fill the gigs ouf. So we just thought, there’s just no point going with Phonogram back in there. Because they don’t give a shit. It’s just not worth taking a whole group to Japan if they’re not going to fill out the places. Because, we did well last time, and we don’t want to go back and do worse, y’kpow?”

How about your U.K. company? 1 guess the song “Mercury Poisoning" just about sums how you felt about the Mercury record company in America.

“Yeah, it’s pretty much the same thing really.' But you don’t blame Mercury in the end. It’s Polygram, which is based in Holland. And that’s all Phonogram as well. I mean, they’re not as bad as Mercury, but when it comes down to it they’ve got the. same attitude. You know ‘If you’re lucky, it’ll make it, if you’re not, you don’t work hard enough for it’. And the contract was up, and they expected me to sign again. And when we didn’t, they really didn’t get behind Squeezing Out Sparks in England at all, Phonogram. Real dumper...”

The conversation temporarily switches to Parker’s increasing renown as (near enough) the premier songwriter of the age. CBS’ new wonderkid, Ellen Foley, and The Pointer Sisters, have both recently acknowledged him through their covers of, respectively, “Thunder and Rain” and “Turned Up Too Late,” and Parker rates them both— especially the latter interpretation.

“I think the whole album by The Pointers is great. But it’s just very hard for the public to relate to three black chicks doing such a rock ’n’ roll album. So I don’t think it’s going to earn me my pension, unfortunately...” (Coincidentally, Parker had featured on the English radio show Roundtable along with Ellen Foley three days previously and had gone down naming Donna Summer as his favorite singer.)

The biggest “new” thing in London right now is the re-creation of the Mod. The two Who movies, The Kids Are Alright and Quadrophenia, arguably, started it offAnd for a short time there was a vogue of young bands re-creating Who moves on stage that had record company and press people asking “Is this the Big New Thing?” But no, the true Mod revival is Mod-ska—the bluebeat that pre-dated reggae. The Who were the Mod-pop band, ska was the Mod dance beat. And so it is in revival, with Elvis Costello producing the highly acclaimed debut album from ska-revival band The Specials. Parker also finds it pretty hard not to identify with the ’79 version of the Mod; after all, he went through the original number when Prince Buster invented the genre back in ’67. Hist-shirt just about sums it up. “Fuck Art,” it’s emblazoned, “Let’s Dance.”

“It’s a bit surprising to me, though, that all these kids have got into it [ska]. I mean, I don’t know how it’s happened. You know, I wish they’d think up their own new fashion sometimes. I mean, it’s quite fun for them, I suppose, innit? Ska was good for me because, when I became a hippie (when I was about 18, 19), I was a bit more cynical than most of the people around me. They seemed like they could get dragged into anything—Jesus or what have you—and I could sit back a bit, because I’d been through this Mod thing which made me a bit tough. Y’know, you were one of the boys and stuff. So things don’t go to my head as much as they did to some people. That gave me a good background in some ways...”

Back to the new wave. In retrospect, do you think you predated the genre?

“To a certain extent, yeah. We weren’t the only ones. There Was Dr. Feelgood and there was a lot of other things going on, really, that people don’t notice so much. Things that were part of a new kind of energy. Actually, there wasn’t a lot. There was a few. Y’know, like at the time, we were extraordinarily new. I mean, when we first started, I.felt that I was the only person doing this, but that there’s gonna oe some more soon. And there was. I mean, if they said I was ‘one of thereat white R&B artists of the decade’... Well, that’s OK by me. They can give me compliments if they like. You know, I don’t know what R&B is exactly, but I guess a lot of my music is related to R&B. Yeah.”

When you released Howlirt’ Wind, some critics said: “Parker blatantly exhibits his Dylan, Van Morrison and Springsteen influences. ”

“Well, I think Dylan and Van Morrison. Definitely not Springsteen. Because I’d hardly heard him when I did my first album. Y’know, he was unknown to me. Born To Run came out just some time before that, and I’d already written my songs by then. It was pretty much Dylan and the Stones— and Van Morrison, for sure. Oh yeah, I was well into those people. But; not Springsteen.”

And that album is most people’s favorite?

“Yeah. Well, it can’t be most people’s favodte because it sold the least. But the people who got it seemed to like it the best, put it that way. First albums are like your whole life, in a way. Because then you nave to write another lot of songs for the next one. You have to have twelve songs sitting around for Heat Treatment. So it’s like, a lot of energy is expended on a first album, which is unrepeatable, really. People may have seen that in Howlin’Wind”

I'd like the record company to be Involved, but you get so many wankers whose opinion you can’t trust...

How “easy” had it been then, to get things organized for Howlin’ Wind?

“Well, the reason I was doing fobs like selling gas was because it was undemanding, and I was only doing it in the morning, and afternoons I could write or sit around and get stoned. Or try and find musicians, or anything I liked. That’s why I was doing it. Because! knew 1 wouldn’t be doing it for long. I mean, I’d known I could ‘make a go of it’ most of my life, really. But only when I was about 24 did I realize that there was nothing else I could do. And that’s why I took a job like that—with no responsibilities. So that I wouldn’t get trapped by arty kind of foremen in factories trying to get me to ‘progress’. I realized I should take a dumper job like that, then I could concentrate on writing the songs—later to appear on Howlin’Wind::

“I mean , when you get to about 24 and you wanna be a rock ’n’ roll star or something, then you’ve either got to go like hell, or forget it. I mean, some people come in when they’re 28 or 30, or something. But for most people... after you’ve gone through being mixed up as a teenager, then you’ve got your head together when you’re in your early twenties...Or you start trying to find direction., .it seemed quite plain and simple in ’75 what I had to do.”

Stick To Me was described as your “coming of age”, and you’ve been quoted as saying you thought the record would be “an undiscovered classic” for a few years.

“Well, I only said that because it didn’t sell a great deal, y’know. Actually, it got slagged off in America a lot. And I thought they misunderstood it a bit. It was like Heat Treatment was so tasty for the Americans, and Stick To Me was a bit rough. And I thought they’d missed the point a bit, y’know? Looking back, there’s a bit too much going on in that album, but it suited what we were doing then. It’s just that for the next one, I didn’t want that. ”

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GRAHAM PARKER

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Why do you think it is that your record sales haven't been too phenomenal?

“I dunno really. I mean, they’re pretty respectable all round the world. But I think Squeezing Out Sparks should’ve done a lot better.”

And you blame that on Phonogram in England?

“No, not completely. I think that people will get it if they look for it. But it would have helped a bit if they’d made an effort. You know, to have displays in the shops when ou’re in town gigging. That would have elped a lot. But it’s hard to say. I mean, we’ve never had a hit single. That would help a lot, you know. I mean, the only hit single we’ve had in England was ‘Hold Back The Night.’ And when you think of the mass of the public, when they think of the group, that’s the record that symbolizes us to them—‘Hold Back The Night.’ And that’s nof us at all. So probably a lot of people have got a confused image of us. They probably think we’re kind of R&B jive-soul band. You know what I mean? So they probably miss out on the albums.' 1 mean, I was disappointed that ‘Local Girls’ wasn’t a hit single in England.

Was the live album The Parkerilla a deliberate attempt to present the band at its most commercial?

“Yeah, well 1 think it was a pretty good live album. It sold a lot all over the world, you know. It did really well in Australia and Japan and New Zealand, and stuff. Just that, you know, when people think of you as a live band, you suddenly think, well, maybe it’s time to get a live album out. And I needed a break from writing, and everything, at that point. And I think it’s a good thing that we concentrated on that rather than try to squeeze out another studio album, you know.”

Do you know how-much you’re worth right now?

“No. It’s hard to pin down. Probably quite a bit, y’know.”

Around the time of Squeezing Out Sparks, you said that the horns of Stick To Me were like “razzle dazzle, ” and that your show was beginning to “blast people to pieces. ”

“Yeah, it got a bit like that, you know. It was like we relied on the horns for that extra punch, you know? But when we found that we could play without them—which is quite simple, but when you get stuck with them, ou tend to forget that—we felt it was a lot etter. We’d let them do a lot of work for us, and felt a bit naked when we didn’t have them no m'ore. You know, we couldn’t do it by creating a new set of dynamics. So, in Australia, it’s going to be quite interesting. Because they haven’t seen us without brass, you know. And the last tour we did in America, I thought we were great. Really powerful, you know.”

“You Can’t Be Too Strong,” the song that mentions the girl having the abortion and Luna Park, had reviewers praising your frightening emotional honesty. Is that your favorite composition to date?

“No. Not at all. I mean, that’s the kind of song Til be really sick about soon, you know?”

Really?

“Yeah. I mean, it’s OK. But on Squeezing Out Sparks I think I like ‘Discovering Japan’ the best. I mean, I think ‘Can’t Be Too Strong’ is a good number, really. I mean, I know in Australia they’re going to ask me all kinds of questions about it. But to me, it’s just last year’s news, really. It’s very hard for me to get serious about that now, apart from when I play it, you know?”

Does that song still “frighten ” you ?

“No, no. I mean, Fve sung it too much. When I sing it on stage, I really get into it, and I really believe in it. But just as a song...It was just at the time, it was quite weird to do it, you know?”

Do you still speak with the girl involved?

“Not really, no.”

Do you know how she reacted to the record?

“She thought it was good. Not at first. She thought I was putting her down. But then she understood it, and realized that it wasjustasong.”

/ thought she might have been really upset.

“No. Not at all. That's something you wanna do with someone you love, and you’re ready for. You know what I mean?”

You’ve said that all you’re concerned about are your friends, The Rumour, Dave Robinson —people like that. And that all you want your record company to do is sell your records.

“Pretty much, yeah. It’s not as black-andwhite as that. It just so happens that when I signed with Phonogram, there were a few people there who were interested in what I was doing, who thought I was gonna be the start of something new, and I thought I was really gonna do well. And then you suddenly find that the staff changes in the record company in six months, and you’re left with people who don’t care. The whole momentum gets lost. So that’s why I’ve taken this kind of attitude. I don’t really want that. I’d like the record company to be really involved, but you get so many wankers whose opinion you just can’t trust at all. You know, a lot of people in record companies all look the same and everything. And it’s hard to believe in their opinions and feelings. Whereas my manager, and friends, and band...You know when they feel something..”

Someone once said of you: “Graham Parker’s a more skilled singer than Elvis Costello, but he’s a less interesting person”. Do you know what the guy means by that?

“I know exactly what he means by that, yeah. Because the kind of way that Elvis hit the scene was kind of staggering. I mean, that’s the kind of thing mat sells records much more than whether you’ve got a good song or not. And that stuff’s great, you know. But it’s not something that I can manufacture, you know, to be more interesting than anybody else. I mean, if people aren’t interested in me as I am, Ihen, you know, forget it. I’m not going to fry and manufacture anything.”

Because, maybe, Elvis has coritrived his public image?

“Well, I’ve no idea, really. Whatever, it’s really exciting, I think. His image is fucking exciting. But at the moment, I don’t even care about that. Like, when I first started, I was into being a bit mysterious and all this stuff, y’know?”

Yeah. I thought you might have decided on the Dylan PR method. Camp things up, lie about your back pages and all?

“Yeah. I just can’t be bothered now. You know, I really don’t think it’$ important, I’m not going to sweat. I mean, Til just make the records, you know.”

As the guy who’s reckoned to have "predated” the new wave, do you feel any sense of competition with other new wave luminaries?

“No, not really. I think it’s all just back to business now. There’s just too many groups an’ all. It’s just every man for himself. I can’t really feel competition with anyone.”

In retrospect, do you still regard Sparks as your most honest record?

“Yeah, I like it the most, I think, really. But I like Howlin’ Wind a lot now. I think both of those are emotionally upfront. But I mean, when I hear The Pointer Sisters doing ‘Turned Up Too Late,’ I think, Christ, that’s a pretty good song, really, isn’t it? So I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve got out, you know. It’s all up to standard.”

I read, though, that you regard "White Honey” and "Soul Shoes” as "rubbish” alongside Squeezing Out Sparks.

“Oh, no. I think I was just over-reacting there, just to make a point, that’s all. I mean, I tend to open my mouth sometimes, and go over the top. Well, ‘White Honey’ we don’t play anymore, and it would sound definitely a bit funny against what we’re playing now. Because of the rhythm, you know. But when I think about it, it opened up a lot of doors doing that swinging sort of stuff. Because nobody was making swinging music at the time, and ‘White Honey’ was swing, y’know? So it was good in its own way. It’s just that to try and play that up against what we’re playing—you know, the beat of things like ‘Local Girls’ and ‘Japan’—would just sound very odd. ‘Soul Shoes*’ doesn’t though. That seems to work every night.”

You have said, nevertheless, that you’re "embarrassed” by some of the early songs?

“Well, I am, quite often. I mean, I heard Howlin’ Wind on the radio just after we’d made Stick To Me, and I thought, Christ, that sounds like a million years ago! But once you get over that, and you get past the next album, and you sit back and listen to something.. .It sounds great to me now. But when I get stuck into the next album, if anyone asks me, I’ll say the other stuff was Crap. You just get emotional about it, you know?”

Last year, you had your fair share of abusive press in England after years of nothing but raves. Did any oif that get you down?

“Yeah, well, at the time it gets you down. Sometimes it’s worthy, but very rarely. I mean, even some of the very best reviews are a bit over the top. You know, people’s personalities come into it more than just a review of the record would warrant. ”

There was, of course, the guy who said that you couldn’t project "beyond the first five rows”.

“Yeah, that was Richard Williams— editor of the Melody Maker. He’s always got at us. I’ve always noticed some little slight towards me, you know. He’s one of those people—Ithink he’s a snob—who must feel like something about me gets up his nose. He’s one of those people who gets grudges against certain things, and then writes massive articles on The Pop Group and how wonderful and how far out they are. And you never hear about them again, you know? I think he’s definitely in for his crusade: far-out jazz and ethnic reggae, man. You know what I mean?”

You’re looking forward to Australia?

“Yeah. Like I said when I was there, I was amazed at the energy of the people, and they wanted new stuff, you know? And they were grateful that a band like us were going over there at the height of our popularity, whereas there are bands that are really dumper going over to make a few bob, you know?

“We’re glad that we’re liked in Australia and New Zealand. That’s why we’re going.”

Reprint courtesy Rock Australia Magazine