I had seen k.d. lang perform live
once, at Radio City Music Hall probably at least 20 years ago now. Her voice
was as pure then as it was when she first released her infamous Ingénue album that made her a worldwide
superstar. Now it’s trendy to go back and do your breakthrough LP from start to
finish before an audience. The Stooges and the Heartbreakers (what’s left of
both those bands with new recruits) did the same thing. But lang’s voice is
still smooth as buttah, and perfectly in tone; her voice seems ageless.
This was recorded at the grand Majestic
Theater in San Antonio, Texas. It’s one of those beautiful old showcases with a
huge stage, and there is lang in bare feet and her trademark pants suit over a
white shirt. This was recorded in 2017, which is the 25thAnniversary
of the album, having been released in 1992 (for those who don’t want to do the
math).
The broad curtains open and lang
starts right in with “Save Me.” No need for introductions, we all know why we
are here. She begins with the trappings of country, relying on the bridge of
the steel pedal because that’s her roots, but lang manages to transcend that
sound with lyrics that are full of emotion.
She does not merely present the
songs, she emotes them, continuing to give them life. This is why she is such a
strong performer more than a quarter of a century on in her fame. With no idle
banter between songs, she slides into the jazzier “Mind of Love.” This song, as
is most on the album, is full of longing and desire that touched a nerve, no
matter what the gender.
Next up is arguably one of her
biggest hits that still get airplay all this time later, “Miss Chatelaine.”
With a Quebec French rhythm thanks to an accordion, our big boned girl shows a
more playful side by dancing across the stage to the rhythm. The first view we
get of the audience is them giving a standing ovation for the song, and I would
say her onstage performance, as well. It’s also the first time she addresses
the audience as she catches her breath. She describes Ingénue as a “meditative record on romance.”
This makes sense with the slow ballad
of “Wash Me Clean,” as desire coils ever tighter until it nearly explodes. Rather
than loosening up the reins, our Albertan cowgirl of the Prairies tightens her
grip even stronger with “So It Shall Be,” bringing back the steel pedal for
emphasis. With some Latin jazz tones, she keeps the pressure up with “Still
Thrives This Love,” adding an element of what I can only describe as “pebble”
lighting across the wide stage.
“Reason of Hollow Soul” brings it
back to a slow ballad, comparing love to a dying tree and its living
descendants. It leads into a beautiful piano soliloquy that bridges the song
with “Outside Myself,” and gives lang a chance to rest her voice. “OM” is more
of a throwback torch song with a hint of different styles flowing through it,
but without the group of musicians, I could imagine someone singing it laying
on a piano. She just as smoothly slides into the lovely “Tears of Lover’s
Recall,” which branches into to another instrumental extravaganza with a piano
focus.
It’s not a huge ensemble, but we do
get to see them showing their individual chops, including the bass, piano, two guitars,
drums, a pair of background vocalists, and of course that steel pedal. Often
lang interacts with the musicians directly. The lighting is almost part of the
show as well, focusing often on primary colors red, yellow and especially blue.
It certainly adds to the mood of the songs and is well chosen.
Of course the key part of the concert
ends (pre-encore) with possibly her biggest hit, “Constant Cravings,” which I
still often hear over supermarket and store PA systems. I don’t know what else
to add about this song whose chorus has been an ear worm to so many, but it is
such a schmaltzy sound (meant as a compliment). The bridge is given a nice
rocked out sound, which actually works quite well.
As the end of the program proper,
lang introduces the band with some obviously pre-written bander about each member.
Most of it is pretty amusing, although it does go on a bit long.
As a first encore (though she never
leaves the stage), lang also dives into “Honey and Smoke,” which has a mild ‘60s
pop feel to it, probably due to the influences of her co-writers, including
Nekko Case. For “I Dream of Spring,” being from Alberta, it’s not hard to
imagine what is the thought behind the song (which is actually written by her
bassist). It is noteworthy that this is the first and only time that lang picks
up an instrument herself – an acoustic guitar – and plays along with the band.
She finishes off the set with covers
by three Canadian songwriters, by moving to Joni Mitchell’s amazing “Help Me.”
It’s truly hard to do justice to this song, which seems to be such a good fit
for Mitchell’s staccato yodel, but lang emotes so well to it. With Neil Young’s
“Helpless,” she does more of a job by remaking it in her own smooth style;
Young is great, but no one would call his music smooth.
For the last of the trio, of course
there’s Leonard Cohen’s monster, “Hallelujah,” which she also had a hit with,
and rightfully so. I’d go as far as to say that other than Cohen, hers is the
definitive version; this song has been covered by so many people so that’s
saying a lot.
When lang and the band return to an
obvious loud round of applause, she does the uplifting “Sing It Loud,” and the sleepy,
schmaltzy (again, a compliment) and romantic “Sleeping Alone.”
The HD is quite amazing. Crystal
clear images, especially near the end where the camera is behind lang and faces
the standing audience. You can practically see the nostril hairs on someone in
the back row. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but what you can see quite clearly
is the blue glows of the cell phones as audience members record the show.
The one extra (other than stereo
choice and chapters) is a 30-minute interview with lang by James Reed. He asks
her some wonderfully insightful questions about her relationship to the music
after all these years, what it’s like to perform them, why the Majestic
Theater, and especially about her sexuality. This album was released about the
time of her coming out, and I certainly remember the “is she?” / “isn’t she?” topic
was big around the time this was originally released, thanks in part of a picture
of her sensually being shaved by supermodel Cindy Crawford.
Anyway, this is a glorious show on
many levels, be it musically, visually, and topically.
Song List from Ingénue:
Save Me Mind of Love Miss Chatelaine Wash Me Clean So It Shall Be Still Thrives This Love Reason of Hollow Soul Outside Myself Tears of Lover’s Recall Constant Craving Encore 1: Honey and Smoke I Dream of Spring Help Me Helpless Hallelujah Encore 2: Sing it Loud Sleeping Alone
There are no ads on this page, so no compensation is made for image use
This interview was originally published in FFanzeen, issue #8, dated 1981. It was written by David G.
To be honest, I was totally unmoved by the whole New Psychedelia sound
like this band, the Smith, Joy Division, the Teardrop Explodes, etc. as it
always seemed so over-processed; in other words, it was everything that drove
me to the striped down, bare sounds of punk. However, David G. was (is?) a
musician, and he quite fancied the esoterica of bands like this and Snakefinger
(who he also interviewed for FFanzeen). That made
him a good choice to interview the band. – RBF, 2016
Echo and the Bunnymen are looking for
answers, though they’re not sure of the questions. As part of an alleged
“Liverpool Revival,” they share, with follow Liverpudlians the Teardrop
Explodes, a fascination with Jim Morrison; but whereas Teardrop’s Julian Cope
opts for the romantic pop of “Love Street,” Bunnyman Ian “Mac” McCulloch
prefers to delve into the ominous ambiguity of “The End.” While the Bunnymen –
Les Pattinson on bass, Will Sergeant guitar, and Pete de Freitas [d. 1989, at age 27, in a motorcycle
accident – RBF, 2019] on drums – churn out a taught, rhythmic, sometimes brutal,
usually hypnotic backdrop, Mac sings about feelings that we all share:
anticipation, disappointment, disillusion, triumph. His lyrics, although
extremely vague on the surface, always manage to frame real emotions. When he
sings, “It appeals because it’s what I feel,” he means it.
The Bunnymen have somewhat of a
reputation for being difficult. I found them to be friendly, witty and, although
a little bored from a long afternoon of interviews, fairly talkative. Pete
seems the most reflective and cautious while Les and Mac don’t hesitate to say
what’s on their minds. Will kind of drifted in and out of the conversation.
They’ve been called arrogant (especially Mac), and while they do tend to be a
little into themselves (especially Mac), it’s in a warm, almost
self-depreciatory sort of way. Their charming Liverpool accents tend to help
quite a bit.
Due to scheduling problems, I was
“given” (record company promo lingo) Les and Will to talk to, with the promise
that Mac and Pete would join us after. Things got off to a slow start as I
followed several false leads (including an inquiry about the band’s supposed
interest in Apocalypse Now!, a film
Mac hadn’t even seen). It picked up a little when I hit upon Will’s fascination
with Star Trek (his favorite episode
is “The Menagerie”). After a lengthy discussion on the subject, I popped my
first big question:
FFanzeen: Will, you’ve been playing guitar for two years –
Will Sergeant: Two and a half.
FFanzeen: Tom Verlaine is a big influence, isn’t he?
Will: Probably, yeah. We just seen
Tom Verlaine. I’m really choked, ‘cause he’s my big hero. He was just walking
down the street.
Les Pattinson: I thought he was,
like, really an exclusive person. You never hardly see him; he never comes out.
Will: We’ve been told that he’s
really like a hermit type; you know, that he doesn’t come out.
FFanzeen: Besides Verlaine, who else do you listen to?
Will: Just the Velvets, the Doors.
Les likes Love.
FFanzeen: And Lou Christie.
Les: [shocked] How did you find out about that as well? Well, only, like,
selected things of Lou Christie –
Will: “Guitar and Bongos.”
Les: Yeah, “Guitar and Bongos.” It
was just like a passing thing, something to say, ‘cause nobody’s ever really
heard of him.
FFanzeen: All of your influences are integrated pretty well into your
music. How does your material come about?
Les: Mac writes all of the lyrics, apart
from “Happy Death Men,” which Will wrote. The usual way a song comes up is,
we’ll be in rehearsal and we just start jamming, you know, and we come up with
a song or a riff and work on that and try and get it to a near enough normal
arrangement; and then Mac will go away and see what kind of, uh, you know, song
he can kind of come up with. He likes to listen to the music first, and try and
get the right, sort of like, vibrations off it, and then he’ll try to put words
to it. It’s usually the best way.
FFanzeen: You originally worked as a three piece, with a rhythm box, but
no drummer.
Will: Yeah, for a whole year.
FFanzeen: Which records have that line-up on them?
Les: “Pictures on my Wall.” That was
the first single we did, on the Zoo, an independent label. And then, just
before we got the major record deal [Korova
Records / Warner Music Group – RBF, 2019], we got Pete in, who’s the
drummer.
Will: We didn’t want to do the album
with a drum machine.
Les: It’s pretty limited.
Will: There’s two songs on the new
album with drum machine featured.
Les: But also, it was getting kind of,
like, hip to have a drum machine then, so we phased it out. A drummer is more
dynamic. It really boosted the songs.
FFanzeen: Julian Cope has commented that he thinks that your songs are
kind of one-dimensional, rhythmically. Do you think that might have to do with
them being developed with a rhythm machine?
Les: I don’t know. I think his songs
are like that, actually.
Will: [snidely] I don’t think about them.
FFanzeen: You were originally supposed to make your American debut
several months ago. What happened?
Les: We couldn’t get visas.
FFanzeen: Did a lot of bands experience the same problems at that time?
Will: There’s a lot of rumors flying
round that there was too many bands going to the States at that time; there
was, like, Madness, the Fall and a lot of others, you know, so a little rumor
started flying round that they’re not letting any more in.
FFanzeen: Sounds ridiculous.
Will: Just fuck-ups. Just bad
organization.
Les: Left to the last minute.
FFanzeen: What were you guys going before Echo?
Les: I was a cook.
Will: And I was building boats; repairing
boats, you know.
FFanzeen: At that time, Mac was working with other area musicians, right?
Will: Not working. It was just something
to do while he was on the dole. Like, the reason he got kicked out is ‘cause he
never turned up half the time. Like, he never used to turn up to us; like, he’s
always late for a gig, and, like, we’re sort of stuck with it, you know, but
they didn’t stick it and they just kicked him out. That was Teardrop [before Echo, Mac worked with Julian Cope in
a band that became the Teardrop Explodes – DG, 1981]. It’s just that he’s
constantly late all the time.
FFanzeen: He’s still late?
Will: He’s late now, isn’t he?
FFanzeen: He’s supposedly finishing up another interview.
Will: Yeah, but he probably started
that late!
Les: We go around to his house, you
know, and pick him up, and you can just add a half hour to an hour to what time
he’s supposed to be ready, ‘cause he’s asleep.
FFanzeen: I get the impression that Mac spends a lot of time apart from
the band.
Will: Only ‘cause he’s got a
girlfriend. He’s always with her, and once he’s with her, he doesn’t say anything;
he just stays with her.
Les: When we’re not working, we’re
not really together; unless we go out together, you know?
FFanzeen: Why the long delay between the U.S. and English release of Crocodiles [their first LP in 1980 – RBF, 2019]? You must have a new album ready
by now.
Les: I think we were just rehearsing
it when our first album got released here.
Will: It’s stupid; another cop-up.
Les: Yeah, that’s another band
organization thing, ‘cause we’re just in the middle of mixing it when we had to
come out here; you now, the time schedule was all wrong.
FFanzeen: So this tour is supposedly to support Crocodiles?
Will: Supposedly, but we’re hardly
playing anything off it.
FFanzeen: So you’re doing a lot of new stuff?
Les: Yeah.
Will: I’m sick of Crocodiles.
Les: I think there’s about four songs
that we do that’s off the old album, the first LP.
FFanzeen: Will the new album [Heaven Up Here, 1981 – RBF, 2019] have all
those atmospheric keyboards and percussion that Crocodiles had?
Les: Well, that was mainly Dave Balfe
– Dave Balfe and Bill Drummond – the Chameleons. He kind of, like, adds
keyboards to everything he can get his hands on.
Will: Yeah, there would have been a
lot more keyboards on that, but we were just arguing all the time, like close
to fights and things.
Les: I’m always worried. Like
recording things that we don’t do live.
Will: There’s a bit of keyboards on
the new album, but we played it ourselves, just little odds and ends; nothing
much, just mainly little atmospheric bits, like you said.
FFanzeen: You must be sick of all the Doors references to your music.
Will: Yeah. We’re not sick of the
Doors, but we are getting a bit sick of all the references, yeah.
Les: The people who come backstage
after we’ve finished live are saying that they don’t see – they can’t see – any
references at all; they can’t see anything in it. They just say that it’s just
the new thing, you know, we’ve broken away from it.
FFanzeen: What’s the state of Zoo Records?
Les: That’s just management; they
manage us…
FFanzeen: There’s still going to be records, aren’t there?
Les: Yeah, there’s odd little things
coming out.
Will: There’s a Scott Walker
compilation coming out.
Will: Well, you know Julian in
Teardrop? He’s one of his main influences. He loves Scott Walker and he’s made
a compilation up, and they’ve got it licensed and they’re going to put it out
on Zoo.
Les: Will’s also going to do a solo
album.
Will: On Zoo. It’s only going to be
done on a four-track, though.
FFanzeen: How far along are you?
Will: I got, like, one song.
FFanzeen: Recorded or planned?
Will: Recorded, more or less.
Les: I’ve heard some of his ideas and
they’re good. He’s got lots of ideas.
FFanzeen: How come you can’t use them within the Echo framework?
Will: Well, I quite like experimental
stuff and it doesn’t work in the Bunnymen. I like the Residents and things like
that. The newer stuff I don’t like, but like Fingerprince, and all that stuff is good.
Les: I like Not Available.
Will: Not Available, yeah, and Eskimo.
Don’t like the Commercial Album very
much.
Les: Usually, when we’re waiting to
go somewhere – somewhere ridiculous at like 5 o’clock in the morning – we all,
like, pile ‘round to Will’s house and put Eskimo
on in the dark. With a blanket on.
FFanzeen: One of your press releases says that your album should be
played in the dark.
Les: Yeah, a lot of people say the
best time to play it is when the sun is going down.
[Mac and Pete finally
arrive]
FFanzeen: Mac, can you tell me a little bit about this Liverpool Scene
that you’re a part of – or should I say, the leader of?
Ian “Mac” McCulloch: that’s more like
it.
FFanzeen: Did it start with Clive Langer and Deaf School?
Mac: That’s where one thing ended,
really. It’s like a throwback to something else. That was good-time music; Deaf
School was like pure theatre – good times, but like no seriousness in it, and
when we started, things became a bit more serious. And Liverpool’s like that
now. It’s pathetic. A few years ago the same people would go and watch the
Accelerators or something, and like them.
FFanzeen: But is there any kind of a scene? Do various group members hang
out with each other and things?
Will: Knife each other.
Les: There were just a lot of bands
that started in one place at one time. It’s not bad now, but it was pretty intense
at one time, so I suppose people said there was a scene there.
Mac: Well, I mean if the initial
bands, like us and Teardrop and Orchestral Manoeuvres, hadn’t of gotten good
press then the other bands wouldn’t have bothered forming. It was only, like,
because these band like us were getting good reviews that they all thought,
“Well, may as well form a band,” because they were always content every weekend
to just go out and see Leeds bands and things; but now it’s okay.
Pete de Freitas: Like in the
beginning, it strikes me, there was some kind of – I don’t know – we used to
hang around with the Teardrops and, I know don’t what it was like before I
joined, but even Pete Wylie [another
former mate of Mac and Julian Cope, now in Wah! Heat – DG, 1981] didn’t
seem like so much of an enemy then.
Mac: We did used to hang out with
each other.
FFanzeen: It seems to me that the essence of a “scene” is a sort of
“familial” feeling between the bands or artists, or whatever.
Mac: It’s not like we swap
instruments and say, “Come and boogie with us tonight,” not like I imagine New
York to be.
FFanzeen: It’s not really like that here, except for a few bands.
Mac: It used to be like that, with
Patti Smith and all that.
FFanzeen: Well, I keep reading about this feud between you and Julian
Cope, the Teardrops, Pete Wylie… I don’t know if you want to talk about it.
Will: [grumbling] No.
Mac: It’s them begin petty. We really
like each other.
Pete: It’s like, more than anything,
it was just because, as the bands were growing up or something, they began to
pull apart – I think musically more than anything – and, as that happened, it
sort of happened friendship-wise as well. But now it’s like all pretty
friendly, really.
Les: Yeah, you only need to say one
bad thing in an interview, you know, one little teaser.
FFanzeen: You all still live in Liverpool. Don’t you run into each other?
Pete: We don’t see a lot of each
other because, when we’re there, they’re somewhere else.
Mac: Julian’s usually jet-setting
around the world.
FFanzeen: He says the same thing about you.
Mac: What, jet-setting? He’s the one
with the money.
FFanzeen: In the article I read, he was making references to the whole
“rock star” image, and accusing you of it.
Mac: That’s exactly what he is.
Will: He goes down to the Zanzibar in
London.
Mac: He’s just playing up to that pop
star role. It’s depressing.
Will: That’s just what he wants to
be, I think.
Mac: And he accused me of that?
Will: Let’s go get him!
Mac: That’s just pathetic, and he
knows it.
FFanzeen: I think that, realistically, there has to be some element of an
attitude if you want to be a musician, or else you’d be a clerk or something.
You wouldn’t wear your hair the way you do.
Mac: [stroking a rather flattened quiff] It’s not like it should be.
Will: My hair was longer than this
when I was working as a cook. It used to drip in the chips pan.
Les: You weren’t a “Ted” then, were
you.
FFanzeen: We’ve already covered the so-called Liverpool Scene. What about
the “Psychedelic Revival,” which you’re also supposed to be a part of?
Les: There’s a revival going on?
FFanzeen: Well, bands like the Psychedelic Furs – by virtue of their name
alone – Echo, Teardrop, U2, etc., are oft being mentioned in the same sentence
as making up a psychedelic revival in England.
Will: Well, that’s what (the
magazines) are saying, isn’t it? It’s got nothing to do with us. Just shows you
how stupid it is. Just don’t buy them anymore. That’s the best thing to do to
them.
Mac: I mean, we’re the only ones who
could possibly be, if you see what I mean [not
really – DG, 1981].
Pete: I’ve always seen U2 as more
like –
Will: – Early ‘70s rock. It’s like – err – bland.
Pete: I think it’s impossible to lump
the various bands together and put them under one title, which isn’t even
accurate anyway; it’s, like, pretty stupid.
Mac: I hate being labeled with bands,
especially U2; you know, early ‘70s (British
Prog rock band) Barclay James Harvest or something.
FFanzeen: There are some similarities between you and Teardrop. A friend
of mine describes you as being the masculine, and Teardrop the feminine side of
the same musical coin.
Les: We’re, uh, the truthful side, if
you get into things like that.
Mac: They come over like a bunch of
stylish kids. And they’re just a show band. The feminine side? I’ll agree with
that.
FFanzeen: Mac, I hear a lot of Iggy Pop, Jim Morrison and Tom Verlaine in
your singing –
Mac: Did you ever hear any Ian
McCulloch in it?
FFanzeen: Well, yeah.
Mac: [snidely] That’s okay.
Les: It’s just so easy to make
comparisons rather than having to think about what it is.
Mac: The Tom Verlaine one’s
interesting though. I’d prefer that than, you know, the others.
FFanzeen: There seem to be a few similar themes running through most of
your lyrics. Do you write about things that happen to you, or do you just make
things up?
Mac: The first album was, like, I’d
do observational lyrics; like “Pictures” was about just an observation of a
mood and of a potential situation, or something like it, without being
specific. It’s just like a mood thing. Like, most of the first album was like
that. There are, like, specific things that I’m writing about, but I don’t specify
what they are in the lyrics, and I don’t when people ask me to.
FFanzeen: The mood I get from your lyrics is one of simultaneous
discovery and disappointment, expectations, the pressure of living, etc.
Mac: Yeah, there is that. But then
I’ve cheered up in the last year, and the new album is totally different. I’ll
stick lines in there that just sound right. I mean, they don’t necessarily fit in
the concept of the whole song, but they’ll fit on the sound level; they’ll just
sound right. And, I mean, there’s a lot more free form. Well, it’s not free
form – I don’t know – it’s just, it’s not free form at all, I just stick things
in that I feel like. On the new album, it’s a lot happier, as well.
FFanzeen: There seems to be a lot of animal names associated with you. Is
there any purpose to them?
Mac: It’s just coincidence. We didn’t
realize there were so many animal names and references, but there’s, like, the Chameleons,
Zoo, Crocodiles, Bunnymen –
Les: People could think that all one
word titles and animal stuff is pretty unusual and think, “How pretentious!”
Mac: Yeah, but I mean, we’re never
pretentious. We can’t be; it’s too hard to be pretentious. We are on the film.
Les: Yeah, I mean, when we spoke
French together!
FFanzeen: I read about the film (Shine so Hard, directed by John Smith – DG, 1981]. It’s not one of those one song videos, is
it?
Pete: It’s got about five or six
songs on it; five live tracks. Most of Pride
is on it. The live filming stuff’s pretty good. It’s about 30-minutes long and it’s
finished, and there’s not really a lot to say about it.
Les: There’s a lead-in to the live
stuff that we don’t like at all, you know, pretty embarrassing.
FFanzeen: Are those the specific sequences that are supposed to represent
the personality of each one of you?
Les: Yeah, those are the bad bits.
FFanzeen: How much say did the band have in what went into each sequence?
Was it one of those “I’m the director and you do what I say” numbers?
Les: Sort of.
Mac: I don’t think the director was
thinking, “This is a masterpiece,” or anything. He thought that we probably
really liked what was happening. It just didn’t turn out that way. I don’t
know, it was one of those things; you make a mistake, and you learn by it.
FFanzeen: Will it be shown, despite your objections?
Mac: They’re just trying to get some distribution
crap going, but we really don’t want it to be distributed. Bill Butt [who photographed the cover of Crocodiles – DG, 1981] was meant to be directing
it at first; it was his idea. I just feel really trapped. I don’t know what to
say when they go on about, “We can get it distributed in Switzerland,” or
whatever, and sometimes I just don’t feel like saying, “I don’t want you to,
‘cause I don’t like it,” ‘cause I mean, people worked hard on it.
FFanzeen: Getting back to your songs, is there an interesting story
behind “Villiers Terrace”?
Mac: There is an interesting story
behind it. Do ya wanna know?
FFanzeen: Well, I asked.
Mac: It’s about Adolf Hitler.
FFanzeen: Is it?
Les: Yeah.
Will: Or A-dolf, as we prefer to call him.
Mac: Adie; he’s a good friend.
FFanzeen: What made you go and write a song about “Adie”?
Mac: Uh, he seemed like quite an
interesting bloke to write a song about; really, I don’t know. What people can
you remember in history? I think he’s like the number one, probably, that you’d
remember. It isn’t really about him; it’s about people like him, about people
who like him. About people who are the type to follow people like him. It’s not
a pro-Hitler song.
FFanzeen: A lot of critics have mentioned the drug references in the
song, but I never quite saw it that way, although it’s definitely a decadent
scenario.
Mac: It sounded like it could have
been talking about something sleazy going on, but it’s more like, you know, a
decadence thing, whatever that is. It can be drugs and it can be politics. It
was an anti-decadence song in a way, but also it pointed out the attraction of
it, which I mean, you gotta draw the line I suppose. And that’s what its’
about, I think, in a vague way. It’s up to you to decide whether I’m saying
“You’re supposed to draw the line somewhere,” or something.
FFanzeen: Well, is there anything else left that you’d like to talk
about? Anything we’ve missed?
Mac: I don’t know what hasn’t been
covered, like before I was here. Um, ya discuss Liverpool winning the League Cup
on Monday?
Pete: Did they?
Mac: Yeah, 3-1.
Pete: Great!
FFanzeen: What’s that, soccer?
Mac: You don’t know about Liverpool
FC? Let’s talk about America. Everybody shakes your hand in America, don’t
they? It's like a really good, polite gesture. They don’t do it in England.
Les: I must admit, I go to shake
hands first.
Mac: It gets a bit boring, sometimes,
doesn’t it? On everything! I don’t know if they’re more reserved in England. I think
maybe in England, people are more frightened to come up to you, ‘cause, like
me, I’ve got this reputation for being in Echo and the Bunnymen.
FFanzeen: Maybe Americans are just more forward, or they perceive you as
celebrities or something.
Will: They didn’t even know our names
half the time.
Mac: Yeah, really, people will just
come up out of curiosity, which is good when you convert them and, like, they
come back after and say, “Ah, it was great. I didn’t know you were able. I’m
going to buy your albums tomorrow.”
Les: I had that happen last night.
One of the bartenders in the club, he says, “We see all the bands comin’ in and
out of here. They all sound the same, but you’re different.”
FFanzeen: How have the American audiences been taking you?
Mac: Good, generally. Last night was
a bit weird, but the whole thing was, like, the sound was crap; we weren’t very
good. I thought we were crap.
FFanzeen: Tonight will be better, right?
Mac: Yeah, if I can get some kip in.
It was, like, the “vibes” weren’t right last night. But that’s okay. Well, it
shouldn’t, somethings, like, because we’re playing there three nights, you
think, “Oh, the first night was crap, the other two will be,” but they won’t;
they’ll be great. You didn’t go last night?
FFanzeen: No, I’m going tonight.
Mac: Okay, well, if I can get some
kip in, it should be great!
Currently living in Saskatoon (email at RBF55@msn.com for address). From 1977-88, I used to publish a print version of a music magazine in New York called FFanzeen, which dealt with the wide-ranging independent music scene. I also photographed many bands from the period (and since). Now I write this blog. And the beat goes on.
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