DIRT WORK BEHIND THE SCENES

DIRT WORK BEHIND THE SCENES

FEATURES

THE BILL WYMAN REPORT

by Chris Welch

“We spent five months in Paris making the Stones’ new album, and it doesn’t usually take that long. We messed around for weeks because Mick was still buggering around with his solo album instead of working with us. He would fly back to London in the middle of it, which I might add is a thing that nobody else has ever done, because when it’s been Stones work, everybody drops solo projects. It kinda caused a bit of resentment among the band.”

Bill Wyman, frank and fearless, talked about the pressures that built up behind the scenes when the Rolling Stones toiled away at producing their 35th album, Dirty Work. Suddenly, last summer, it seemed as if the Stones might be falling apart. Rumors were rife, and there was talk of rows and rifts. They said Charlie Watts was on his way out of the band, having stalked out of a recording session in a huff. They said that Mick Jagger and Keith Richards had openly quarrelled about the future of the band. Keith and the rest of the Stones wanted to go on tour, and Mick didn’t. Flushed with the success of his solo album and hit single “Dancing In The Street” with David Bowie, it seemed Jagger was going cool on the Stones.

Bill Wyman, Stones bass player, historian and author of a forthcoming definitive book on the story of the band, perhaps feels that his own loyalty cannot be questioned, and can afford to speak out from a position of strength. At any rate, he has always been a down-to-earth, easygoing South Londoner. Once he was somewhat ignored as the immobile, faceless Stone at the back of the band. Now fans and the media are beginning to realize that there is power behind the throne. Bill has become a regular guest on TV chat shows, and does perhaps even more interviews than Jagger and Richards. One advantage is that he actually remembers what happens to the Stones, and—if there is any room for doubt—has it all stored on his computer. All the facts about gigs, concerts, records, and news stories concerning the Stones’ extraordinary history are available on floppy disk, and together with a vast collection of personal diaries going back to 1962, Bill has all the information he needs at his fingertips. He has been writing his book for years, and it should be published next year. Has he actually got a publisher yet? “About 40,” he said, with an enigmatic smile. Obviously the book will go to the highest bidder.

The events of recent months should add another fascinating chapter to the story. Certainly Dirty Work proves the band is still fresh, vibrant and relevant to the ’80s. Paradoxically they’ve done this by returning to some of their ’60s virtues of simplicity and drive.

Bill played me the album, albeit in cassette form, when I met him at his Chelsea flat. Here he has his own Ripple Productions office, and works hard at writing film soundtrack music, producing videos and recording his own material. But, as Bill says, when Stones’ business I looms, he concentrates on that to the exclusion of all else. He spent the five months of 1985 in Paris with the rest of the Stones helping to record Dirty Work, laying down bass lines and adding keyboards.

He’s pleased with the album, and wishes Mick would agree to their going . | back on the road. But he loyally defends | him against the attacks of outsiders, and s ends any rumors about any changes in I the line-up. Apart from the old firm of Mick, Keith, Charlie, Bill and “new boy” Ronnie Wood (he’s only been in the band for 11 years), there are a few surprise guest artists. Jimmy Page dubbed on a few bits of guitar in New York.

“This album is one of our more basic efforts,” said Bill. “Simplicity is the keynote, and there’s not too many complicated tracks. We’ve got guest vocalists like Don Covay, Ben E. King, Bobby Womack, Jimmy Cliff and Tom Waits. They all did their overdubs in New York.” The tracks Bill played sounded great to me. I especially loved “One Hit,” with its jangly Richards guitar intro; the fast and punchy “Fight,” with its clipped, hardhitting snare drum beat, and Mick’s savage, cynical treatment of “Winning Ugly.” As usual, Mick manages to capture the mood of the times in a song, this one all about Reagan-Thatcher beliefs in backing winners, not losers.

“I wanna be on top and down the competition... look after number one, and devil take the hindmost,” he roars, setting out to provoke a liberal backlash. The same mood prevails on the title cut, where Mick snaps “Let some loser do the dirty work.”

“Back To Zero” with its slower beat, funky guitar riffs, and echoey percussion is a street jungle affair with roots in the music of the Meters (who used to tour with the Stones in the ’70s). “Sleep Tonight” features Ronnie Wood singing in a Dylan-ish mode. My least favorite numbers are the reggae-inspired “Too Rude,” and the undistinguished “Hold Back.” Overall, it’s the best Stones' stuff in years—direct, attacking, good-humored.

Bill described the making of Dirty Work as a slow, but ultimately satisfying, experience. “We hadn’t played together since the 1982 tour and it took us a while to get our chops back together, and the ‘mind contact.’ We usually jam around for a week and then start seriously getting into tracks. But this time we messed around for three weeks. Mick was flying back to London to do 12-inch re-mixes and video edits on his solo stuff. That was a sore point.

“We thought he should have forgotten his solo album, which was already out and finished. He should have worked with the Stones, but instead he let it drag through and he continued to work on that instead of with the Stones, which was disappointing, and we thought he had got his priorities wrong. His mind wasn’t there. It worked out in the end. But Keith had a baby in the middle of it, and Charlie cut his hand opening a miniature bottle, and we didn’t think he could drum for some weeks. The glass busted and cut his thumb and finger where he holds the sticks. They had to rush him to the hospital for three or four stitches. All the frustrated drummers in the band thought ‘Now’s my chancel’ and rushed onto the drum kit. Mick would keep a rhythm going, and Simon Kirke played a bit, but nothing he did was used on the album. Simon gave Charlie some different ideas for things to play. The same thing happens when Woody picks up a bass and messes around. I’ll grab a couple of lines or a feel from him I wouldn’t normally play. Keith plays bass sometimes, when I play keyboards. It’s productive and it releases me. I don’t like sitting on bass all the time. I did some synth on the album. I should have learned to play the guitar in the first few years of the Stones. But I was lazy then!”

Ron Wood plays bass on ‘‘Back To Zero” because Bill came down with flu in Paris. Said Bill: ‘‘We cut so many tracks I can’t remember who did what on them. And the names change as well, if Mick decides to write new lyrics. I know a piece as ‘Dog Shit’ and then it comes out as ‘Cat’s Piss.’ If I’m not at a mixing session, then the album comes out as a surprise to me.”

Many thought that Simon Kirke was edging Charlie Watts out of the band, especially as he played drums with them at their recent secret gig at London’s 100 Club, a tiny basement in Oxford Street. “No, Simon has been coming along to Stones sessions as a mate for years,” Wyman noted. “If you recall, Charlie came home from Paris because he damaged his hand, and had to rest. When he got back at the airport, the press jumped on this absurd story that he’d had a huge row and walked out on the sessions and wasn’t going back. It was absolutely nothing to do with that.”

The Stones used Steve Lillywhite to help with the production, the first time they have used a producer in years. Had he changed the group’s sound?

“He bumped up the drum sound a bit, because Charlie plays very lightly. But as far as the rest of the band is concerned, there’s not that much difference. There’s lots of good editing, because most of the songs were 10 minutes long, and they’ve all been cut to four for the album. Steve was good at remembering tempos, and was a good guy to bounce ideas off. He did a great job and helped us a lot.

“It’s funny, whenever we finished a song Woody would say: ‘Let’s go back and hear it.’ We’d say ‘Carry on playing!’ He’s really an enthusiastic eager beaver. I still think of him as the new member of the Stones, and he’s been with us for longer than Mick Taylor and Brian Jones put together.”

Why did they do “Harlem Shuffle”?

, . ^ots of cover versions when ^ r® J^fhing, songs by Duane Eddy, the Shadows, and even Hank Williams. If one stands out, we might record it. We could only put one on the album. We did a great version of the Shirelles’ ‘Putty In Your Hands’ and it was a toss-up which one to use. ‘Harlem Shuffle’ came through for the single. It was a cult hit years ago. When we played it at the 100 Club, we had difficulty remembering it!”

‘We thought Mick should have forgotten his solo album, but he continued to work on that instead of with the Stones.” —Bill Wyman

The secret gig was in honor of the Stones’ old friend and original pianist Ian “Stu” Stewart, who, at 45, died from a heart attack last Christmas. He was in the throes of helping Charlie Watts organize his 30-piece jazz big band when he died, but he had been ill for some time. The 100 Club was intended to be a “wake” for Ian, attended by old friends and family. Even so, word got out, and there were queues of hopeful fans outside the club on a cold Sunday night in February. The Stones took to the stage to play all the old blues numbers that Ian used to enjoy, and Jagger and friends were joined by Pete Townshend, Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Jack Bruce and Simon Kirke.

“It made a nice jam,” said Bill. “We hadn’t played together, apart from in the studio, for four years. We like to do small gigs once in a while for nostalgia. Playing at the 100 Club for Stu was like playing at our first-ever gig. We played all the numbers Stu liked, ‘Little Red Rooster,’ and ‘Route 66.’”

Bill says the Stones would love to play a small club tour, and have often talked about it, but they invariably run into trouble. Like the time in Boston, when they tried to play a small club, but the radio stations kept giving away the venue. “We get an awful lot of criticism if we try and play somewhere small and you get 300,000 applications for tickets. The mayor said we could play for free in the town square, but our promoter Bill Graham said: ‘OK, can you handle one million people coming into town, without the military?’ People don’t always realize how big a draw we still are! On our last tour, we played to four million. The cost of touring is fantastic, though. It cost three million dollars to set up the last tour. It’s not all riding in the back of a truck, eating cold egg and chips. It’s not like that anymore!”

When I spoke with Bill, an ’86 tour was still a possibility. I asked if the Stones had resolved the problem of a 1986 tour. “We have. I don’t think Mick has!” grinned Bill. “Everybody else wants to tour. Charlie has some reluctance, but he’ll go along. Mick doesn’t want to. The truth is when it comes to touring he’s the one who loses six pounds a show and really has to get into physical shape. He really has to run around for two-and-a-half hours, and if I was him, I’d think twice. He’s the one who is going to get slagged off.” a