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by Joe Harvard Reflecting on his original band, the Rumour, Graham Parker told me "Without their chops it could have been a much lamer thing. And maybe I would have had a few hits!" These two sentences may seem strange sitting next to one another, but they convey the maddening truth behind the career trajectory of one of rock's true originals. If Graham Parker and the Rumour hadn't rocked as hard and as true back in 1976, the caliber of his writing would've made his songs ideal vehicles for the kind of assembly line, vanilla-flavored production that the major labels specialized in. His tunes would've had all sharp corners rounded off, synth strings added, and been packaged as Graham Crackers or some such bullshit. Or maybe they'd have added two full-sized boy-toys and a cute midget, taught them synchronized dance steps, renamed 'em all Graham and called the group Eighth of an Ounce (get it, three and a half 'grams'?). He'd be out there right now, with all those early 80's one-hit wonders recently unpacked from their cryogenic lockers, defrosted, and sent out, goofy-foofy hairstyles intact, on endless rounds of depressing, rent party package tours. Instead, plagued by integrity, infected with good taste, his steps dogged by a genuine, unrelenting talent, we find our hero writing and performing yet another set of thoughtful, well-crafted, uncompromising rockers. Graham Parker is a Renaissance Man. In addition to his 18 studio LP's, he has recently written a second novel, penned a book of short stories, and even wielded "some weird oily crayons" to provide cover art for a King Biscuit Flower Hour CD -- one of the nearly 20 live releases of his work (NOT including bootlegs)! And, oh yeah, on June 7th Bloodshot Records will release the finest album he has done in a couple of decades. Not too shabby, for a guy who states flatly that these days he's "so below the radar no one's gonna package anything" on his behalf. True, they may not be capable of the sort of marketing provided by Parker's former major-label employers (all three of them), but hopefully Bloodshot Records will recognize the release of his new album Songs of No Consequence as the major feather in its indie label cap that it is, and promote it with all available guns blazing. Because this is a record that finds Parker squarely back in the saddle, holding the reins of a snorting stallion of a rock band, and using his six-gun wit to shoot from the hip at a passel o' villains including shitty boyfriends ("She Swallows It"), crappy radio programmers ("There's Nothing on the Radio"), the impotence of the American press ("Vanity Press"), and the frustrations of aging ("Did Everybody Just Get Old?"). In an era when we're lucky to get two decent songs per album from the cream of rock royalty, this one provides wall-to-wall winners, not a dog in the bunch. FIGGY PUDDING Commencing with '88's Mona Lisa's Sister thru '92's Burning Questions Graham seemed to make a conscious push towards the singer-songwriter direction, and in recent years he has played more solo shows than he has with a full band. But fans familiar with '97s Live Cuts From Somewhere and '03s The Last Rock and Roll Tour were patiently awaiting a studio LP from the same cast: Parker in front of the much-in-demand Figgs, whose members appear on a host of records in addition to their own ten LP's. Not long ago Mike Gent, Pete Donnelly, and Pete Hayes performed a criminally under attended Figgs set at the Saint. It was easily one of the best shows of the year - these guys have the ammunition, and know how to use it. I can't wait to see them playing these songs live behind Parker, who's a capable solo performer but hell on wheels leading a good band. Songs of No Consequence strikes me as more reflective, less overtly pissed-off than Parker's previous work; more like the ruminations of a guy who is at peace with himself - if not the world -- after accepting that he needs only his talent, "Cigarettes and Bad Chardonnay" and a great part-time band to survive. Has playing with a younger group put a spring in Parker's step? "I was forty when I first worked with the Figgs and they were in their twenties. I likened myself to an old vampire sucking their energy up. Now, forty seems very young all of a sudden, and twenty positively eons ago! Again, once you've got a microphone in your face or an instrument in your hand, it's just a work situation and the Figgs get down to business … I just did what I always do: wrote a bunch of songs, chose some musicians who I thought would be suitable, and hoped for the best. But … I think the combination of these tunes and this band was certainly not going to allow me to snooze." And snooze he didn't. There's a clarity and unity of direction on this new record that harkens back to Parker's twin classics Howlin' Wind and Squeezing Out Sparks, his most critically acclaimed work. Considering the fact that Parker's longtime former band the Rumour was simply one of the finest straight ahead rock outfits in history, this is no small achievement. There's no overplaying, no posturing, just a solid, in the pocket rock set by three pros and one certified legend. MEANS OF PRODUCTION I asked Parker about his move towards performing solo, the results of which may be best heard on his self-distributed Live Alone: The Bastard of Belgium. "Solo is great, much more open and expansive. I tour with a band to promote records only. On the club level, it's just too expensive to work with a band." No doubt Parker has had his fill of hitting the road with band and van, having toured extensively as a headliner and as an opener for mega-acts like Eric Clapton, Cheap Trick, Journey, and Thin Lizzy, all at the height of their fame. I couldn't resist asking about the latter, as I was once a huge Thin Lizzy fan; to this day the finest double bill I've ever seen was Parker opening for them in '78 at Boston's Orpheum Theater. "Touring with Lizzy had all the usual pros and cons of being an opening act. You get to play bigger audiences than your popularity can pull at the time, but you also play to people who do not care! Rock audiences are probably the most narrow-minded lot you can imagine! It may seem a paradox, what with all the peace and love and open-mindedness cache we're supposed to have, but it's the truth. You can be absolutely stunning and only 25 out of 20,000 people will recognize it." Still, having been backed by one of the greatest rock outfits ever to tear up a stage, I figured it'd be rough walking onstage with just a guitar and his tonsils, but Parker says he's "very pleased" with the way his solo act has developed. "When I first began playing solo, at least in my professional life, I was very stiff and did the songs almost as if I still had a band behind me, but now they stretch and bend and change all the time. Plus, I've learned to talk to the audience and throw in a few jokes." This was obvious to the audience at Parker's recent Saint show. To cite just one example, he preceded "Mercury Poisoning" with a good-natured haranguing of the "bloke" who'd requested it, but was now engrossed in conversation, insisting that the guy stand up front and pay attention. He then launched into a pick-your-own-arrangement of the song that began like the recorded version, morphed to a reggae feel, settled into a waltz, and ended with the last half delivered in a flawless Bob Dylan impersonation that seemed as much of a surprise to the singer as to the audience. Leaving a crowd in stitches would've been hard to imagine the 70's model Graham Parker doing, a newfound skill directly attributable to his frequent appearances as a one-man band: "It took me years to loosen up. I enjoy it now." Given the advantages, I wondered why Parker had waited so long to pursue solo performing? "It only made sense to me to work solo after the heavy- handed record productions of the '80's became an anvil around my neck. Actually, the production ethic of the '80's became an anvil for rock 'n' roll across the board. It was time to shed the pounds." It's a surprising bit of irony that Parker fell prey to such production excesses, for it was his work, along with records by Elvis Costello, Joe Jackson, Nick Lowe and other punk-era writers, that helped free rock from such trappings in the first place. What is no surprise is that Parker eschews "heavy-handed" production methods, when you consider the fact that his work with Jimmy Iovine, arguably the "biggest name" producer he has worked with, resulted in Parker's least critically acclaimed record: The Up Escalator. Despite a good crop of songs Parker calls that 1980 release "one of my least favourite albums", because "the production is utterly without distinction. It has no sound. No identity. It was that period when the thinking was that the more time and money you spent the better the outcome would be. Three days to get a snare sound and all that nonsense. I was as into that as any producer. I take the blame every time." These days Parker does without a formal producer. "Since The Mona Lisa's Sister I've been calling myself the producer and sponging off of the talents of various engineers. There is no mystery about recording these days, therefore a producer, to me, is simply not necessary. In the past, I've used talented people, but they've often been inflexible and had their method down before they walked into the studio. Most of the credit producers have gotten in the past is a lot of hot air." (AUTHOR'S NOTE: As a producer and engineer I can see Graham's point, but remember he has nearly 20 studio albums under his belt. I wouldn't recommend self-production for most bands with less than 3 albums worth of experience, although criteria like musical style, budget, experience and anticipated end-use of the recording all have impact on whether a producer is needed or not; in any event the choice of both producer and engineer should be carefully made. -- jh) I asked Parker about his writing method. "Songwriting is still, for the most part, a mystery to me. I believe the quality of my work has been consistently high throughout my career but have no idea why or how. I should be producing utter rubbish by now. I don't get it. I don't know how I can produce stuff that does have this 'maturity' when I still feel exactly the same as most people deep down inside: like I'm walking through this world with less senses operating than an amoeba." Although the Rumour played a significant role in arranging his songs in his earlier career, Parker these days is more hands-on. "In the beginning I was totally inexperienced as far as playing live, recording, arranging, and everything else to do with being a musical artist. My songs were much more skeletal … now, I have bass lines, keyboard parts, and lead guitar parts so specific that I usually play lead myself because it would be pointless to hire a guitarist and tell him to play what I play on the demo. With the Figgs, however, I loosen up and let 'em go. On the new album I still came up with keyboard motifs, a few bass lines and a few lead riffs, but a lot of it I just left to the band to come up with, usually as the tape rolled." That sense of trust is obvious in the feel of Songs of No Consequence, which has a Stones-like immediacy, especially on "Suck 'N' Blow", a so-loose-it's-tight interplay of twin guitars, pushed by a rhythm section that isn't so much about "playing drums" or "playing bass" as it is about playing songs. All of the old Parker influences - Soul, Dylan, the Stones, Van Morrison - are here on this album, but they never stick out like the "Tastes Like" tributes found with less skilled artists. Here, they are more like spices in a good pasta sauce -- say, my mother's - where the gravy has been simmering so long that they are perfectly blended, and the only taste left lingering in your mouth is of the whole; in this case, what resonates is a final, delicious concoction that is 100% Graham Parker. This record is as convincingly Parker-esque as any in my collection, an achievement that should move true fans to put the Figgs on their Christmas Card list. I'm coming dangerously close to gushing, I know, but these guys do a yeoman's job that invites comparison to no-B.S., workingman's groups like Rockpile, NRBQ, the Attractions, and - yes -- the Rumour. But then, Parker has always been lucky when it comes to finding bands. "I appeared out of nowhere with virtually no experience of the stage. I met a few people who knew a few people and suddenly this guy Dave Robinson is recording me in his eight-track studio and has put this band around me who seemed to understand what I was looking for. It came naturally to me to work hard at it because I was driven by those songs, and the guys who would become the Rumour also knew a thing or two about working very hard to make things really good." VSOP (VERY SPECIAL OLDER PARKER) Songs of No Consequence has a mellower ambience - not soft, mind you, but in the way aged whiskey is "mellow": it still packs a mean punch, but it's smoother going down. I wondered whether this was a maturing process, or whether, in light of his extensive solo work these days, the expectation of playing these songs alone was coloring the way Parker writes. "The songs on this new album seemed, on the face of it, less than ideal for solo work. My last album, Your Country, was much more suitable. But having done 'Evil' 'Vanity Press' 'She Swallows It' and other tracks solo I'm surprised at how well they work stripped down. But now that you mention it, I think it is in the back of my mind these days when I write songs that I should definitely consider the fact that I play solo more than I play with a band. And the truth is, I much prefer mellower stuff anyway to all that ranting and raving." Barrel aged or not, the stuff Parker distills is still packing a punch. Check out 'Vanity Press' (which I mistakenly thought was about his experiences as an author) in which he takes aim at the toothless "Fourth Estate", the press. "All those phony propaganda segments about the war in Iraq or the 'No Child Left Behind' program etc., and indeed the general softness of the media on this administration, made me feel that the entire media in America is like one great big Vanity Press: It's all pay for play, basically." Amen, brother. No ranting or raving needed with couplets like: Any doubt that Parker's ability to kick rock ass remains intact will be dispelled with the first listen to "Bad Chardonnay" - of which Parker says "I love it … it's a damn silly song that rocks like a flea-infested ape and is what the album was supposed to be about, an album full of 'Songs Of No Consequence.' I destroyed that concept, however, when I wrote 'Dislocated Life.' You know that if Bruce had a song like that on his new album Rolling Stone would have given him the half a star they left off of his review! It's bloody mega, that number." Statements like that should reassure fans that Parker has survived into this New Millennium with both balls intact, as will his take on "Suck 'N' Blow.", of which he asks "Will the Stones have a rocker that good on their next album? I think not!" And any question of whether or not he intends to keep on rocking indefinitely with that kind of chutzpah are answered by "Did Everybody Just Get Old", a wry reflection on the effects of aging on creative vitality, whose viewpoint implies a Statement of Purpose as much as a lament. THE BASTARD OF BELGIUM MEETS THE BOSS Graham Parker has had a long association with the Garden State - beginning with a December of '76 Passaic show, followed by a surprise Stone Pony set that same month appearing as guests of Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes (the night before in NYC both bands had opened Robert Palmer's Palladium gig). This led to two dozen shared UK bills with Southside Johnny in Spring, '77. In 1980 The Up Escalator featured E Street Band organist Danny Federici, with Springsteen providing guest vocals on "Endless Night". Most recently Parker brought his solo show to the Saint in Asbury Park. How did this London/Garden State connection come about? "Most of the stunts in the early days like touring with Southside and then Thin Lizzy were Dave Robinson's ideas. Certainly, I thought having two bands with full horn sections on tour together in the days when prog rock still ruled was brilliantly outrageous! Robinson had a touch of genius about him, it has to be said. And perhaps because of my history with Southside and those tours, New Jersey audiences have been consistently appreciative and savvy of my work throughout the years. I'm very thankful for that." Did Springsteen have any role in "Endless Night" beyond b/u vocals? And how tricky is it working with bonafide stars when they must take a sideman role [guests on Parker LPs include Nona Hendrix, Springsteen, Lucinda Williams, etc]? "As for Bruce being on the record, that was (producer Jimmy) Iovine's idea and I just said 'Yeah, all right, great.' I don't see these people as rock gods or anything. Bruce is a great songwriter and performer and a hard working guy. I didn't think for a moment that having him on an album would help my career in any way. Same goes for Lucinda and Nona. It's just working musicians who are damn good that might sound nice on a track. I never had a manager or producer or record company that tried to push these 'star' appearances on my records to stimulate sales. If they did, they wouldn't have got very far because I don't believe in it. Iovine just thought Bruce would sound good doing background vocals on a song." Certain publications have cited The Up Escalator as a career low point [pun intended], including Trouser Press who wrote that Parker "lost his sense of purpose … those looking to assign blame will notice the increasing influence of the king of rock melodrama, Bruce Springsteen". I asked Parker if he was swinging for the bleachers on that record, and allowed himself to be drawn towards a style that promised greater economic dividends -- or did Trouser Press have their heads up their ass on this one? His reply was succinct: "Trouser Press had their heads up their asses!" One last note on the Jersey connection. My favorite cut on this record ,"Evil", has a repeating line which reads more like Tony Soprano than a native West Londoner; could these FuggetAboutIt's be a nod to the boys down at the Meat Market? Maybe, maybe not, but one thing is sure, the tune's reggae inflections will find a warmer reception in 2005 than it did back in '77, when Parker was one of the first rock artists incorporating the island rhythms into his work, and "playing a reggae beat in front of an American audience just left 'em scratching their heads." KIDS THESE DAYS As for today's young musicians, I asked Parker whether he felt they were as well-rounded as the players were when he was coming up, or did he detect a lack of the sort of work ethic and balanced musicality considered necessary for players "back in the day"? He failed to take the bait. "The ones I meet seem to be working pretty hard. And most don't get the chances I had. Some of them don't get the luxury of even working hard because their careers are cut short due to the nature of the business now. If your first record fails, you're heaved off the label and marked for life. Sometimes, you see an act have quite a success with a first album, but if the second one doesn't fare so well, they still find themselves in limbo. I was lucky enough to come along in the time period where you were more or less guaranteed to get a four album deal and you got to make all those four albums, regardless of sales. And I had three major record labels in a row to start my career. That's 12 albums before I went down to the indies. And when I say 'went down,' I mean went down!" Given the way the majors work, it's unlikely that Graham Parker could've made an album like Song of No Consequence if he remained on one. When he says he "went down", he is no doubt referring to the financial aspects of moving away from the majors (commenting on his reputation for holding major label record companies in disdain he replied "I'd give my right nostril to be on a major label. Are you kidding?! They gave me so much money it's not funny"). Speaking of money, some of Elvis Costello's earliest shows were as an opener for Graham Parker, who predated Costello, Joe Jackson, and other punk-era songwriters, most of whom are now far better off financially than he is. Does he feel he's gotten his due, commercially and in terms of respect? "Uh...no. But I deal with reality. Get with the program and get on with it! … I'm a lone wolf: I just do it my way." And while the man deserves so much more recognition and compensation than he gets these days, music lovers profit by the inequity - because he still gets to make records this good. Joe Harvard Songs of No Consequence is scheduled for a June 7 Release. GRAHAM PARKER
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