THE BEAT GOES ON

THE BEAT GOES ON

MICHAEL GREGORY ON THE ROCKS

BOSTON — You’re Michael Gregory Jackson from Northampton, Mass. , and you want to be a pop star. What do you do?

Well, first you drop the Jackson from your name so that you’re no longer confused with the pop institution of the same surname (and to whose voice yours bears some slight, sweet resemblance).

Secondly, you record an album called Situation X with Nile Rodgers (Bowie, Debbie Harry, Chic) producing, using musicians from Bowie’s Let’s Dance sessions and a few other hot shots from Chic.

And-thirdly, by doing interviews like this one, you go about trying to convince the world that the avant-garde jazz guitarist that

ONE COOKS, THE OTHER DOESN'T

At long last, the sordid truth about one of America's most-beloved midget singer-songwriters is out for all to see: yes, friends, there are actually two Paul Simons! That's right—for almost two decades now, Paul #1 and Paul #2 have fiendishly been switching places on planes, onstage, in pix, and even in the mix! Hold onnnnn a minute, cries panicked actress Carrie Fisher, who figured she'd wrapped the guy up for a lifetime when she connubialized the popular shrimp a couple months ago. Or thought she did. Now she wonders which one she's legally hitched to, or either, for that matter. Wait a minute...could there perhaps be two Carrie Fishers? Or—worse yet—two Art Garfunkels?

used to wear your clothes is on 1 permanent vacation.

Then you hope your new 1 record company can generate 1 some airplay-inducing promoI tional schemes. And wait.

“As for the name change, the 1 music I’m doing now is in direct ( competition with Michael JackS son,” explains Michael Gregory 1 (the Jackson is now silent, thank 1 you). “It gives me a fresh situa1 tion, and it’s nice not being ask| ed if I’m in the Jackson Five... 1 The avant guitarist in me is no j longer in operation. In fact he | hasn’t been for some time.”

True, Gregory’s rock roots | make his jazz days seem like a 1 hobby that got out of hand. | Starting in junior high, Gregory I played drums in Cream/Hendrix-type groups, blues harmonica and then lead guitar in a power trio. At home on the family phonograph, he listened to everything from gospel to Coltrane to Stravinsky and played rock at night to get his Blue Cheer/Jeff Beck fix. Before long he was teaching guitar and com-

position at conservatories in New England and Denmark and was involved with the old Creative Music Studio in Woodstock, NY where he specialized in “altered forms of music. That’s when I was in my conceptual stage, heavily into John Cage, dada, Zen Buddhism...”

In due time he recorded with avant jazzers Leo Smith and Oliver Lake and also cut five albums on his own. “That whole scene was extremely interesting. We were inventing totally different ways of notating music! But I was still pretty much into listening to rock.”

Increasingly nostalgic for his power trio, Gregory inched in that direction with two albums on Arista, Gifts and Heart & Center. Then, tiring of multi-piece bands and heavy Earth, Wind & Fire arrangements, he returned to his favorite formation of bass-drumsguitar. “I was becoming an arranger, not playing that much, even on my own albums. I decided to be a player again, and the three-piece was the perfect way to stretch out.” Gregory formed Signal, and attracted a strong following around Northampton, writing songs that put rhythm, fun and intensity high on the priorities list.

Arista, however, and several other labels that were solicited, were not so keen on the idea of

a black rock ’n’ roller. “They thought it would be safer if I moved more in the R&B direction. So it took me until now to find a record deal for the music I was doing in 1980.” In the meantime, Gregory watched helplessly as his collaboration with Steely Dan’s Walter Becker came to a grinding halt. “My exmanager single-handedly killed that.” MG also soured on the club scene and felt that the musicianship in his bands just wasn’t up to what he needed. But before disbanding, he met a duly impressed Nile Rodgers at a gig in NYC, aind the two became friends.

When Gregory hitched up with Chris Blackwell’s Island Records for Situation X, producer Rodgers, hot off Let’s Dance, wasted no time in assem-

WAKE HIM WHEN IT'S OVER

MIDDLESEX, ENGLANDEustace Burnett, an 86-year-oldfarmer here, claims he hasn’t slept at all for the last 58 years. At a hundred sheep per night, that’s 21,170,000 woolly leaps, just to put the thing in perspective.

The Kryptonian insomnia started back in 1925, when the then 28ish Burnett stayed up all night because his “mind was occupied with thought of what lay in store for him in the future.” What the hell, no wonder! If you were going to stay awake the rest of your life I’ll bet you couldn’t sleep either.

01’ Eustace has tried many a cure since that fateful (and fitful) eve, including exercise, marriage, pills “by the boxful” and possibly even Liberal Arts. All to no avail, though, leaving Eustace a problem he can’t even sleep on.

As a last chance, interested readers might want to send Mr. Burnett any of the following: the collected lyrics of Journey, the Talking Heads’ album cover of your choice, the NFL’s complete pre-season schedule, recent Dave Davies interviews, or a lifetime subscription to CREEM. C’mon, it’s worth a shot. bling the all-star studio band. The upbeat lead-off track, “Can’t Carry You,” is the LP’s first song to test the singles market. It’s also the tune they picked to carry the Michael Gregory banner into MTV-land, the pop-rock nation where MG is quite comfortable. “Pop and rock are the best labels because they’re so open — Michael Jackson, David Bowie, Talking Heads—they’re all rock pop.”

J. Kordosh

Situation X relies on refinement and craft: subtle emotions and abstract textures on top of crisply formatted songs (not unlike the approach of the Police). The eight tracks here were a long time coming (“I was really reacts to do this record”) and are tight and intelligently fulfilled, with the grand range of Gregory’s guitar packing most of the punch.

As skillfully written as this pop is, general acceptance is not guaranteed, especially in those lingering pockets of resistance where rock is still a lily-white proposition—“There’s a problem

DARN THOSE HEADLICE!

Poor Tom Petty has been ostracized by everyone—from Elmo to Joe Strummer—and you'd think the poor guy would realize why! Every time they get near him, a trip to the vet to get dunked is a simple fact of life! Some fans say Tom's constant itching is detracting from his recent shows as well! Perhaps the former sandwichdelivery-boy-in-Gainesville had best take the advice of noted scholar Tubby Boots and start playing that new-fangled "scratch" music! Or maybe he should just be locked up in a closet for the rest of his life just for kicks! It's hard to make up your mind, huh?

marketing black rock artists,” Gregory concedes. And though four of the LP’s songs date back to MG’s mega-watt days with Signal, the album is hardly a kick-ass bulldozer.

But if Michael Gregory’s rock ’n’ roll heart seems at all obscured on Situation X, he won’t let it stay that way for long. “I have a feeling that my next record will be very heavy,” he promises. “Heavy rock, Genesis, Journey-ish almost, but with some different twists.”

Roll over Lemmy and tell Van Halen the news.

Tristram Lozaw

IMAGES OF PETER GODWIN

NEW YORK—And in the beginning there was Peter Godwin. Long before Michael Jackson was old enough to reach us with his androgynous cafe au lait good looks, Peter Godwin, an English school boy of undefined lineage (decidedly part Indian) was pulling on his skin-tight black leather cat suit, zipping it almost far enough, and with the help of his partner, Duncan Browne, was slinking around one of the very first promotional videos. As graceful as a cat and sultry as a sphinx he moaned, ‘‘oh-oh-oh it’s a criminal world, the boys are like baby faced girls...”—a song which his royal highness David Bowie, in his infinitesimal wisdom, resurrected for his Let’s Dance LP.

But time has passed and Duncan Browne has receded into a reclusive silence. Peter Godwin, however, is moving up the dance charts and sitting in New York City talking about hi? music as the soundtrack for his life. The heavy-lidded beauty, whp looks as if he stepped out of the pages of GQ, has slipped in and out of the public eye’several times since his time in Metro (the band he and Duncan were promoting in the video). In the recent past, he’s scored hits with “Images Of Heaven,” “Emotional Disguises” and “Baby’s In The Mountain.”

“I like to make records with style and personality,” he explains exuberantly. “1 like to have range and integrity as well.” With Correspondence, his second solo set since the demise of Metro (the first was an EP, Images Of Heaven), Peter fuses dance music with moody love songs. One, “Soul Of Love,” was written for and recorded by the Drifters, one of the numerous projects he has worked on during his periods of silence. “It’s got a fragility which

is reminiscent of Metro,” Peter says. “You don’t always want to disguise your emotions. You want to put down the barriers

THIRTY DEGREES COOLER UNDER THE SHADES

TUCSON—Grant R. Gwinup, of the University of Arizona College of Medicine, has warned this summer’s crop of Old Sol groupies to beware of the dread “sunglass syndrome,” in which excessive wearing of the fashionable eyewear can cause a strange facial numbness. Several women treated by Gwinup last year complained of numbness below their eyes, in their cheeks’ and around their upper teeth. Some even noted “uncomfortable sensations” when they breathed through their noses. However, all of the patients reported gradual relief from these symptoms when they discontinued wearing their large, heavy sunglasses.

In a related story, drug-abuse counselors in the New York City area report that a new substance-craze is sweeping Gotham’s junkies, as many are giving up their hundreds-ofdollars-a-day heroin habits in favor of wearing $4.95 sunglasses (which most already have on hand among their meager possessions) for extended periods of time. Several shades-users report sensations of terminal nod close to those of the hard stuff, but without the dangerous side effects. The proliferation of sunglassy-eyed

and be vulnerable. I feel as if I have come full circle. I see almost a parallel. Particularly in relation to ‘Criminal World,’ which was an unfulfilled direction for me.”

In 1976, Duncan Browne and Peter Godwin had it down. Recording as Metro, they were light years ahead of their time. The original new romantics, singing about walks by the Seine, smokey cafes and relationships with undetermined sexes—songs filled with never-ending fantasy and decadence, laced with fine brandy, opiated cigarettes dangling from perfectly manicured fingers. They were visions of Oscar Wilde, spouting Rimbaud and discussing Jean Genet, young men straight out of Sgrtre’s Age Of Reason. The dream might have gone on and on, but although Duncan and Peter were capable of making beautiful music together, they could not get along.

“1 think one of the things that used to annoy me about Peter was he was experimenting in qn intellectual rather than a spontaneous way,” Browne once ex-

droneouts among the city’s addict community has already inflicted a sizeable dent in the area’s junk trade, forcing the worried crime-mogul heroin suppliers to reconsider their traditional mob restraints against “hitting” people who wear glasses.

In the meantime, other N.Y. physicians who specialize in substance abuse are warning the sunglassed comsumptives that their new habit is not all rosecolored shades. Reportedly there has already been at least one made-in-the-shades-related death, that of a user who attempted to affix cilp-on sunglasses directly to his face, without employing the requisite clear spectacles beneath... plained in retrospect.

Richard Riegel

Godwin, adopted by an English working class family, was raised in a home with only three books, “prayer book, a first-aid book and a woodworking book,” a boy who quickly traded his accordian for a pink electric guitar, who adopted a love for literature and the Continent from old movies and his love of Paris from a French damselle.

Despite Browne’s accusations, Godwin claims he called it as he saw it. “The imagery was true, even though it was romanticized. I think we were fairly ahead of our times in terms of thinking of Britain as an extension of the Continent of Europe.”

Now, Peter Godwin plans his descent on America. Dragged out of our one on one, he is going off into the sunset with a Polygram promotion man. Staring at the mile-long limousine, his bedroom eyes sparkle with enthusiasm and excitement. His dark good looks stand out in the crowd of rush hour office workers scurrying around him.

Secretly, he hopes to reach these very people where they live. “Music starts off in the privacy of the writer’s life—and then it goes through the whole machine and in the end it ends up a private thing for someone else.” As I walk down the street he calls after me. I stop. “This is it...I’ve finally made it,” he laughs as he climbs into the limo. A boy with a dream and an accordian no more.

Janis Schacht

LOOKIT THE CHEEKS ON THESE DUDES!

Who's got the donut? "Not me!" says singer Jules Shear. "Not me!" says DJ Duane Bradley. "Not me either!" says wacky Don Was of the totally kookyville conceptual outfit Was (Not Was). So who d'ya think's got it? Let's check for clues. Hmmmm, aren't Mr. Shear's shades a bit shifty looking? And how about Duane's smattering of facial hair, often a sign of devil worship? Wait a minute! Take a gander at Don's cheeks! He must have the donut! The punishment for snatchism this week? Ten years "hard" labor in the CREEM caption writer's hut!

TAXXI KEEP THE CHANGE

DETROIT—When David Cummings, Jeff Nead and Colin Payne were deciding on a name for their newly formed band, they wanted an international, household word. And it’s a good thing they came up with one, because, although they’re British, Taxxi live in the States, and they have been most successful so far in European danceclubs. But after three albums in as many years as U.S. residents,

what they want now is some good ol’ Yankee recognition.

So they’re taking the American route to fame—well, exposure, anyway—having just completed their fifth video and a promotional tour which included an MTV interview, guest appearance on Detroit’s local TV show The Beat and visits to various and sundry rock magazines.

All the personal appearances have “helped enormously,” Cummings says. Nead agreed, “I’d hate to think of where we’d be without MTV.”

They’ve been very involved in the production of their videos, which isn’t surprising, considering that their personal backgrounds seem more suited for cinematic endeavors than musical ones. Cummings had youthful ambitions to become an actor, often starring in the theatre troupe of hometown Perth, Scotland. Nead had planned to attend the Boston Film School before he met Payne, who was trained as a photographer and worked as a photo technician.

“It’s amazing what you find yourself doing after a while,” Payne observes.

When he and Nead first got together with musical stars in their eyes, it was to be songwriters, which they still consider their primary interest. They contacted Cummings for technical reasons (“We needed a tape recorder,” Nead recalls.), but liked the way he sang their songs and used him on their first demos.

Though those original tapes were actually made as a vehicle for the Nead/Payne tunes, after meeting an American who was “looking for a British band to produce,” all three were “whisked off to California,” Nead said.

California meant Fantasy record company, for whom

they’ve done all three albums, Day For Night, States Of Emergency, and Foreign Tongue. They enjoy the artistic freedom they’re allowed at Fantasy, where they’ve done everything from co-producing their albums to designing the covers.

Their first manager had told them their music was bettersuited for the States, and he was probably right. The songs on Foreign Tongue sound much like American pop, especially “Maybe Someday,” “Best In The West,” and “Gold And Chains,” which seem particularly highschool-dance-ish.

Which may just be the sound they’re after. Although Cummings said the band has “no conscious influences,” Nead admits if there is one, it is pop music. He calls theirs “hard rock with a little bit of magic,” while Payne prefers the term “romantic.”

The boys are equally pleased with their latest release, which they consider their finest to date. “We’ve matured and it shows,” Nead says. “There’s not a weak song on it,” crows Cummings. And after a season of opening for bands including the Motels, Triumph and Foreigner, they believe the time to tour is again upon Taxxi, maybe even as headliners.

Cocky little devils, aren’t they? “Sure,” Nead grins. “After three albums, if you don’t have any confidence, you’re not in very good shape, are you?”

Ann Marie Fazio

5 YEARS AGO

ABOUT THOSE FIGHTIN' IRISH

A certain journalist for English rag Melody Maker instigated quite a tussle with Thin Lizzy’s Phil Lynott. Seems Lynott took offense at a comment made and accused said journalist of insulting his race. To which the journalist replied “The Irish or the darkies?” Now, boys...