BOB SEGER BIG VICTORIES

BOB SEGER BIG VICTORIES

FEATURES

HELLUA NICE GUY GOES THE DISTANCE

by

Bill Holdship

It’s always been a little difficult for me to perceive Bob Seger as a major rock ’n’ roll star. That isn’t meant in any negative sense, but if you grew up in Michigan during the ’60s as I did, you sort of ended up taking Seger for granted. The guy’s just always been around here as a regional cult figure, starting in ’66 when he scored his first local hit with “Heavy Music.” His subsequent singles—classic rock material like the anti-war “2 + 2 = ?” and “Persecution Smith” (the latter featuring his hilarious Dylan impersonation)—always got heavy rotation in the Midwest, and Seger was a perpetual opening act in Detroit for years, often opening shows for other Motor City legends like Iggy & the Stooges or Mitch Ryder’s Detroit. (Ironically, it would be Ryder who opened a weeks worth of soldout shows for Seger at Detroit’s Cobo Hall nearly a decade later.)

Seger almost made the big time in ’68 when “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” took off on a national level, but the success was momentary, and Seger seemed destined to be just another Michigan one-shot wonder, a fate that made all the more sense when you considered that Michigan was the home of perhaps the most legendary one-shot rock wonder of all time with Question Mark & the Mysterians’ Tears.” Regional stars have always an integral part of rock ’n’ roll since music’s origins, and you can take it far as some of the Delta blues some of the the Sun rockabillies who never

got much further than Memphis. Some of ese cult figures eventually do make it to credibly big (Springsteen), some make a gallant effort (the New York Dolls), and some never go much beyond the regional stardom that seems to be their lot in life (the Michael Stanley Band). The manner in which Bob Seger managed to advance from the latter category to the first by way of the second was one of the major sucess stories of the 1970s, and a testimony to the fact that hard work, faith and good intentions can still pay off in the end.

When I first saw Beautiful Loser in the stores in early ’75, my initial reaction was one_of sympathy—“You mean the poor guy is still making records, still trying to make it?”—which, ironically, turned out to be what the LP was thematically all about. It was probably Seger’s most consistent LP up to that point, national radio stations played the title track and “Katmandu” on a regular basis, and even the high school heavy metal crowd began picking up on the LP. When Live Bullet was released a year later, right in the midst of live album mania (remember Frampton was making a lot of people think he invented the talk box and wah-wah pedal with the phenomenal albeit ordinary Comes Alive around the same time), it set the mold by capturing ,Seger in a Detroit environment where he was and always had been a “star.” Night Moves was, as Seger describes success, the icing on the cake, and it’s been life at the top ever since. The Distance, Seger’s latest opus, has just gone platinum as I write this (perhaps the state of the economy— something the LP deals with on two tracks, “Makin’ Thunderbirds” and “Boomtown Blues”—affected this, as his previous LP, Against The Wind, shipped platinum), and the LP’s first single—a cover of Rodney Crowell’s beautiful “Shame On The Moon” —is currently riding the top of the American charts.

It isn’t hard to pinpoint Seger’s mass appeal. It’s a bit of a cliche to call him a rock journeyman, but it’s still the truth. He’s a major staple on FMrock stations, and (especially in Michigan) you’re apt to hear “Turn The Page” or “Rock ’N’ Roll Never Forgets” as often as “Stairway To Heaven.” (Whether that’s good or bad is up to the discretion of the reader.) It all seems to fit in smoothly with the standard FM fare, be it between Led Zeppelin, the Who or the Eagles, and songs like “Night Moves” or “Mainstreet” do provide a form of relevant nostalgia to certain people who grew up with rock ’n’ roll.

Seger never seems to totally reach the rock ’n’ roll edge that so many of his peers do. He has, in fact, been described as a “conservative rocker,” which seems like a contradiction in terms, but these are conservative times. Still, (his raspy vocal style has its roots in black music which, in turn, are the very roots of rock ’n’ roll itself. And he has composed some great rockers along the way, most notably his earliest singles up to “Lookin’ Back,” “Get Out Of Denver” (which Dave Edmunds covered) and “The Fire Down Below,” which I think is ope of his best, and apparently so did the producers of Bette Midler’s The Rose film, who tampered with historical logic to include the tune in a film about (very loosely) ’60s rock.

On the other hand, Seger turned another page of sorts with Against The Wind, an LP comprised mainly of “rock”' ballads. It angered many critics who preferred Seger’s harder rock of the past, but it also produced another slew of hit singles. Several people have told me that “You’ll Accomp’ny Me” reminded them a lot of a Kenny Rogers song, and although it’s once again debatable whether that’s good or bad, you can bet the single sold to a lot of the same people who buy Rogers’ records. (Interestingly enough, Kenny Rogers has just released a cover version of Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight” as a duet with Sheena Easton.)

It's no more sane working on our records or being on tour with us than it is with anyone else in this bisiness.

Seger also appears to be the rock star who speaks to middle-aged people who grew up with rock, but don’t relate to a lot of what’s happening right now. That isn’t to detract from his younger fans who are legion, but it is especially notable from songs like “Rock ’N’ Roll Never Forgets” or “Night Moves.” CASE IN POINT: I was in a record store the day after The Distance was released, and two men in their late 30s—one in a three-piece suit, the other with two kids—came in to buy copies of the LP. (Weirdly enough, one of them also purchased a copy of the Culture Club’s LP, mumbling something like “I coulda sworn.it was a guy singing that song” while looking at the cover.) “That’s what I tried to do with those songs,” admits Bob. “I just wanted to tell them that it was still available in the concert halls. Don’t be shy—come on out, clap, stomp your feet and have a good time. And I think if they go out and see Bruce or me or Petty, they’ll have a good time. You’re never too old for it.”

Finally (and this is another reason why it’s always been hard for me to view him as a “star”), Bob Seger has never acted the way one conceives a star as acting npr has he surrounded himself with most of the familiar star trappings. At least in public, Seger has always come across as your basic normal (perhaps too “normal” for a rock artist as far as some people are concerned) , down-to-earth “nice guy.” Apparently he’s unaffected by his success because he’s perservered for so long out of love for his craft as opposed to financial or egotistical gain. Certainly that’s part of his appeal, although Bob claims “it’s really an advantage and nice because people don’t get all ga-ga over you, but I don’t know if it’s part of the appeal. It’s just the way I am. I don’t make a lot of new friends, so I can just continue to be myself.” Add to this the fact that Seger is the head of an efficient, well-oiled rock machine, and it seems impossible that he could ever fail.

Unfortunately, Seger’s “nice guy” image has been taken to task a bit in the Detroit media recently due to the dismissal of longtime Silver Bullet guitarist Drew Abbott and drummer Dave Teegarden. The pair have been replaced by a relatively unknown guitarist named Dawayne Bailey and drummer Don Brewer, who joins Bullet keyboard player Craig Frost as an alumnus of Grand Funk. (“All we need is Mark Farner, and we’ll eventually be Grand Funk!” laughs Seger.) Only bassist Chris Campbell and Alto Reed on horns remain from the original Silver Bullet line-up. In a lengthy interview with the Detroit Free Press, Seger went into detail as to why he wanted to play with new musicians. (The Distance features L.A. sessionmen Waddy Wachtel on guitar and Russ Kunkel on drums.) Drew Abbott was angered by the interview, and he lashed out at Seger in a follow-up story, referring to his old boss as “an a.. . . I’ve never seen anybody say those types of things in the paper.” The mud-slinging continued in the Michigan media, a fact which has understandably upset Seger and his management, not to mention a lot of his local fans.

Drew and David are terrific musicians. I Just needed a change, and I wish I couid go back and take some of the stuff E said back.

The following conversational excerpts are taken from a recent interview with Seger in the Birmingham offices of his manager, Punch Andrews, during which the singer discussed The Distance, the dismissal of Abbott and Teegarden, the future and life at the top of the rock ’n’ roll heap.

CREEM: So are you satisfied with The Distance?

SEGER: Yeah, yeah! Even though it took me 14 months to be satisfied with it! It was a tough one. Jimmy Iovine is a very demanding producer, and it was the first time I ever had anyone telling me not what to write, but telling me to keep on writing because it wasn’t good enough yet. And this went on for 10 months—The actual writing, and then the last four months were putting it together.

What made you decide to go with an outside producer, and how did you hook up with Iovine?

It was really by chance. Bill Szymczyk had just done the live album, and he was in the middle of a divorce, so he didn’t feel like doing another record right away. I wanted to start immediately, so I called Don Henley to ask if he knew of any really good producers. I wanted someone like Szymczyk, who’s completely straight—no drugs—so we could depend on him. Henley had just done “Leather And Lace” with Iovine for Stevie Nicks’ LP, and he said the guy was great, he doesn’t even touch liquor* So I called him, and he said, great, send some tapes. The first tape had “Boomtown Blues,” “Even Now” and a Rolling Stones type of thing called “The Fade” that didn’t work out. We went in and did those, and Iovine suggested I use Kunkel and Waddy because he’s worked with them before, and because I did want to try a different drummer and different guitar players. And thby worked out just great. The tracks went real fast, plus they were real fun to work with.

Some of the reviews of the album Suggest that it’s tied in with the “recession rock” theme that performers like Springsteen and Bi//y Joel have used on their latest records.

Well, just two of the songs, really— “Makin’ Thunderbirds” and “Boomtown Blues.” Those two cure sort of a two-part novel on the state of the Midwest as I see it, being from here. But I don’t think the rest of the album is really about that. It’s more about relationships in general—sort of like Annie Hall. That’s what it started to be about, but then as Iovine got more and more demanding, I just sort of forgot about having a concept album (laughs).

Except for “Even Now, ” it seems that most of the songs are about relationships falling apart.

Well, I think they’re more about the reality of relationships. Relationships appear to be falling apart a good deal of the time. Some do, but others get back together, and most relationships are that way. If they were on an even keel all the time, they’d probably be pretty dull. So you have your hills and your valleys, and that’s what I was trying to cover on The Distance.

Some people think that “Little Victories” is a bit of a pessimistic note to end the album on. r

I don’t think so. I thought it was pretty up. The idea is that you can get through dark moments by doing that—by saying, well, it happened. I have to accept it, and now I’m either going to let it pull me down or I’m going to pull myself back up. And how am I going to do that? I’m going to accomplish this today and this tomorrow— to pull yourself out of a hole when something crushing happens to you. So that’s basically what it’s about—going the distance. l don’t want to sluff off the meaning of the various songs on The Distance, but as I’ve gotten older, I think the less you try to analyze them, the better for all concerned. I really hate to get deep into analyzing songs anymore. They mean one thing to me, and I want them to mean to other people whatever they draw from them. So if I seem to glaze over the lyrics, I’m sorry, but that’s sort of the way I’m thinking these days.

How’d you come to record Rodney Crowell’s “Shame On The Moon”?

Don Henley turned me onto Crowell, who he was listening to a lot, in 1980, but I didn’t buy one of his records until ’82. When I heard “Shame On The Moon,” I just stopped and thought, “Wow, this is a great song!” I played it for everyone in the band, and they said, “Sure, let’s do it.” We took it into the studio, and Iovine didn’t quite hear it at first, until he heard Glenn Frey and I do the back-up vocals, and then he decided it was a monster. It’s more like a western song—a cowboy song—than it is a country & western song. And the track is flawless, the best and tightest track on the album. We cut it in like two hours, and everyone decided it was the miracle track. But then we had to decide whether to use it or not because The Distance was going to be a real rock album. I purposely didn’t write any medium-tempo songs for this one because I wanted it to be hard rocking with a few ballads for pacing. But we figured we’d throw it on and see what happened. The next thing we know, the Capitol guys are saying, “That’s the single!” (laughs) Fine! Whatever it takes! So thank you, Rodney. It’s a great song, and I’m beholding to the lad for writing it.

When I first heard it, 1 thought it sounded like a Bob Seger song.

A lot of people have told me that. Like everyone else, I’m probably most drawn to songs that sound like I wrote them. I remember the song “The Rose” from the movie. I read in Billboard that Bette Midler had wanted a Bob Seger sort of ballad for the film. Well, I never knew this, but I loved the song before I read the article, so I guess I get drawn to things that sound like me or something that I wrote.

What do you think of the Kenny Rogers/Sheena Easton cover of “We’ve Got Tonight”?

Well, I just found out about it the week we released “Shame On The Moon.” We went over to their offices, and they.played it for me. I said it sounds like a hit, but to me, it sounds like the kind of thing my mom would like. It’s a little bit Vegasy and heavy on the syrup, but I think Kenny did a good job. It’s actually kind of soulful for those two.

I read somewhere that you originally wanted to make The Distance a double album.

Yeah. We’d cut a lot of stuff. We only used nine songs out of 19 tracks. Some of the stuff like “Anniversary,” “Elevator” and “Snow Today,” I really liked a lot, but Iovine or Punch didn’t like them as much. They would have fit well within the theme of the LP, even though they were really off-the-wall, things that were completely different for us. I was real excited about doing a double album, but I never told anyone except Punch. Capitol didn’t veto it* Rolling Stone wrote that they vetoed it, and I guess I gave that guy the wrong impression because it was entirely Punch and I who vetoed.it. It wasn’t so much because it wouldn’t work as it was the state of the economy. We simply didn’t want our fans to pay that much for a record. But we had some great stuff, and it’s probably never going to see the light of day.

I don't think that success really changes anything.

Do you think you might use some of it live?

Well, we may try to put some in movies, use them on soundtracks, lovine’s getting really deep into movies—he’s working on three simultaneously—and he keeps calling, asking, “What about this song for this movie?” So if he actually does get a bite, we may go to L.A. and finish one of the songs.

Did you get “platinum paranoia” [his term] again before the release of The Distance?

I do every album, it doesn’t matter. Because you work really hard, and when you finally take a look at it, it just never seems to be as good as you wanted it to be. But I’m real happy with this record. I think it’s the best sounding we’ve ever made, as far as production is concerned. I’m just a little sorry that I got so hung-up on the idea of making it a concept album. Maybe next time I’ll just write songs and quit trying to write novels!

Has success made you a happier person?

My father was an alcoholic, and there’s an old maxim that once children of alcoholic parents reach a certain plateau of success, they really have a tough time of it.

I think I could relate to that about three years ago, although I think I’ve gotten over that hump. It’s like you feel you don’t deserve it and there’s a lot of guilt. I think I’m over that, although there’s always those little nagging things. It seems like there’s always something else that has to be done—maybe that’s an attitude in itself. So you’re always running a little scared. I don’t think that success really changes anything. I mean, it doesn’t change how hard you work. It’s just the icing on the cake, and that’s all it is. There are the obvious benefits of having more time to work with better producers in better studios, but other than that, there’s really no difference.

Do you ever have any fears that it could all disappear tomorrow?

I used to, but not anymore. I think I’m even prepared for it disappearing tomorrow if that should happen. I’ve had a real good run, eight years of big success, and if we get out on this tour and find out they’re not responding the way they used to, I think we could all go home and just accept that. Or perhaps even realize that we’ve been passed by and there’s a lot better stuff out there now. I’d rather hear better stuff because it pushes you.

How long do you want to continue making music?

I don’t know. I’ve been practicing for this tour for four weeks, and, boy, it’s a grind. I’m 37, and I’m starting to really feel it physically. I think we can make records for a few more years, but I really don’t know how many more tours we can do’. Maybe one more after this one. I know we’re going to tour slightly less than we used to. Whereas we used to go out nine months, now maybe we’ll only go out for six. I don’t think we’re going to have to spend as much time in the studio now with Iovine producing, and that’s really great.

Whatever happened to the compilation LP of old singles that you once mentioned possibly releasing?

It’s funny because I haven’t thought about that for awhile. Maybe right after a tour when we have six months before an album, we’ll put out a collection of 12 to 14 singles and price it real cheap. That’s definitely a good thought. I’ll make a note of it. Maybe you’ll see it this Christmas.

There’s been a lot of mudslinging in the press lately over the replacing of Drew Abbot and Dave Teegarden. Would you like to elaborate on what the real story behind the split was?

Well, the real story is that I was far too candid in my comments. I was sort of shooting from the hip when I did that interview with the Detroit Free Press. I said a lot of things I wish I hadn’t said. I made it sound a lot worse than it was. You know, Drew and David are terrific musicians, they’re really good. I just needed a change for myself, and I wish I could go back and take some of that stuff back. In the band, everyone was always straight to your face. If they didn’t like a song I was writing, they’d tell me, or if I didn’t like the way they were playing, I’d tell them. Nobody ever cut corners or beat around the bush. Everyone knew where everyone stood in the band, and what I’m trying to get at is it sounds as if I was sitting around, saying, “Oh, gee, when is this going to be over?” It jUst came out very poorly, and if I could do it all over again, I would just say that they had quit, and I probably should have said that. But because of the frankness that was always part of the band, the first guys that asked me about it, I just shot from the hip.

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I later called up Drew, aghast, and said, “What are you mad about? We always talked that way before.” And he said, “Yeah, but not in the press!” And that’s what I did wrong, really. I wish both of them all the luck in the world. We just reached a point where I needed a change primarily in the studio. They could still play the stuff great live, but I wanted to hear a different style of drumming and guitar playing that fit the way my music was changing. And it ended up sounding like I’ve been bummed out at the way they played for years, which is completely wrong and untrue. After I read it, I couldn’t blame them for being mad. The point is we’re still friends/ and I certainly wouldn’t want to hinder their chances of catching on with someone else.

It did get blown out of proportion, and I think it’s my fault for being candid and not thinking when I was talking. I think some of those reporters took things out of context. I know they took things out of context. One guy in the L.A. Times quoted me as actually saying that I wanted better musicians, and I had to call him up and say that’s completely wrong. I never said that, ever! I don’t know where he got that from, but that’s what happens when you don’t have a tape recorder going. The guy gets an impression and writes it as a quote.

So the point is you just wanted different musicians and not better musicians?

Yes. Exactly. Precisely.

Why do you continue to live in Michigan instead of L.A. or New York where the music business is located?.

A simple answer. All my friends are here, and it’s just home. But aside from the fact that it’s home, I think there are good reasons to stay here. If you get too close to the music industry, you get blinded of what’s happening in the rest of the country. You can get caught up in southern California, and it’s sort of like a big Disneyland. Now, I’m talking about Hollywood because that’s the only town I’ve ever spent time in, and you can just get caught up in this constant cycle where almost everything is connected to music or show biz. And you come back here, and it’s just not that way. The only real connection I have to show biz here is when I go to rehearse for six hours at (Detroit suburb) Royal Oak, and then 1 go home and it’s normal again. It’s family. But in Hollywood, you tend to eat, drink and sleep it. You’ll-just bum-out if you do that yearround. At least I know I would,. It’s unreality 24 hours a day. And New York’s sort of the same in an even more hectic, highpowered way. Those would be my two choices if I was going to live like that, but I can’t live that way. Too fast.

Let’s end with a Barbara Walters type question. What’s the biggest hnisconception people have about Bob Seger?

Uh...Probably exactly what you said earlier on—that I’m a real even-keeled sort of person. I’m just like anybody else. I have grave doubts. I torture myself mentally when I’m writing. I have just as hard of a time doing my job as anybody does. And it probably looks real easy for me because I’m the kind of person who projects a pretty sane image, but it’s' no more sane working on our records or being on tour with us than it is with anyone else in this business. We have our really wild, crazed blow-up moments. We get really mad at each other, and we screw up. Never drugwise or anything like that, but we have our moments. And I’ve got a temper—a baaad temper, and it shows up every couple of months. I completely lose it, and I’m a very fallible person as far as that’s concerned. And I do worry a lot about the records and the tours—probably a lot more than people think. It’s not just that steadiness all the time. In my relationship with my lady, it’s often up and down. I think people tend to put entertainers on a pedestal and say stuff like “Now, that Seger, there’s a real sane guy.” And I do think that I’m probably more sane than most, but I still have wild flights. Just ask Jimmy Iovine!

It isn’t any different when you’re successful. As a matter of fact, it’s probably more pressure and a bit more frustrating because you’re not competing with other people anymore. You’re competing with yourself. And that makes it even harder. So I try to pace myself well, and I think that really helps. If I have any “secret” for anyone out there once they make it big, it’s that you have to pace yourself. You have to know when to say “stop.” You have to know what’s important and you have to set priorities. If you can do that, then you won’t get hooked because it’s a very intoxicating business, especially when you’re doing well. That’s the most important thing. Don’t try to accomplish everything now. Set realistic goals, you know? I think a lot of the reason why I didn’t make it when I was real young is because I had honest to God goals like (in Geprge Carlinesque comedy voice) 1 want to be as great of a singer as James Brown. I want to write better lyrics than Dylan. I want to be bigger than the Beatles. And if you live with goals like that for 10 years, you’re not going to get anywhere! You have to set realistic standards for yourself, and you have to be yourself, number one. That’s the most important. If that ain’t enough, it’ll never be enough. Nothing will ever be enough.^