From Basher to Convincer
Either way, it comes down to the song
PREVIEW
NICK LOWE
Calgary Folk Music Festival
Sunday, July 28
Prince’s Island Park
If pop music had a crown prince, it would be Nick Lowe, although the idea of any kind of royal family is far too gauche for a gentleman of his ilk and, these days, his silk.
The co-founder of Stiff Records, the seminal label formed in 1976, shed his bar band days with Brinsley Schwarz to score mini-hits like "I Love the Sound of Breaking Glass" and "Cruel to Be Kind" before teaming up with Dave Edmunds in Rockpile. He also fell in love with the punk spirit of Britain, producing for The Damned, The Pretenders and Elvis Costello – Lowe also penned Costello's standard "(What’s So Funny ’Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding."
By the time he joined country music’s first family by marrying Carlene Carter-Cash in the mid-80s (a marriage that turned into just another country music moment), Lowe was adding production fuel to the careers of folks ranging from Tom Petty to John Hiatt and Huey Lewis, all while writing songs for his famous father-in-law. Indeed, Lowe’s reputation in the studio earned him the nickname "The Basher," because he could so quickly bash through a song and get a take.
But "crown prince of pop" is not a title Lowe would embrace – a few moments on the phone reveal that he is far too witty, sophisticated and yet somehow grounded to be splashed with a limiting word like "pop." When he hears that a critic (OK, this critic) referred to his current album, The Convincer, as "panty remover," he laughs.
"Should I be blushing?" he asks. "I’m glad that people like it, because I think the songs are really solid. It’s the song, it’s always about the song. And you have to write 20 to get 10 good ones."
But in spite of the debonair suit and knowing smile Lowe wears on the front cover – an image so attractive that suddenly gray hair seems an aphrodisiac – he is in no danger of being pelted with panties onstage, á la Tom Jones. His fans are sophisticated, and know it would not be becoming – either for them or for dashing Nick. Any panties removed due to this album would come off in candlelit bedrooms or on moonlit drives. The Convincer is so, well, smoothly convincing that these 12 exquisitely marinated songs will probably save a few marriages that have gone stale on the shelf – the album is that tender, romantic and real.
"I couldn’t have written this album when I was 20. To write an album like this, it takes years of living, of experiences, of relationships and heartbreak, and coming out the other side…. When I think of what a 20-year-old songwriter has to say, I can’t think of anything interesting that I would hear. It’s the same when I think about a 20-year-old comedian – they wouldn’t have lived long enough to understand the subtleties of life."
While the gentle precision suggests that Lowe’s "Basher" days are over, Lowe disagrees.
"We record everything live. I don’t do overdubs, not even on the vocals. So I still tend to be done very quickly in the studio, but that’s because there is quite a complicated process before the recording begins that involves working on the songs and getting the sounds in the right places."
One thing that has changed for Lowe is touring – as he grew up and grew into it.
"Well, back in the ’70s, the best part of touring was everything except being on stage. The show was the part you kind of had to get through to earn the rest of the day and all kinds of debauchery. Now, it’s completely the other way around for me: I don’t get paid to be onstage, I get paid for the other 22-and-a-half hours of the day. I get paid to sleep in strange rooms and get on and off of planes. The show is the highlight of the day, the part I look forward to all day. No one has to pay me to be onstage."
Lowe embraces the idea that he's one of a fingerful of artists from his generation who is aging gracefully (go ahead, name someone else. Yep. Now name another. See?).
"If you’re over 30, the industry is not really interested in you as a pop star, and it seems a bit of a naive idea by then, anyhow. So this what I’m doing is part of a plan, quite deliberate, actually."
Bons mots from the Crown Prince
On how to follow up an album like The Convincer: "I don’t know, actually. I feel that this album really completes the trilogy (with The Impossible Bird and Dig My Mood) and that we achieved what we wanted on this one. Now if I do something like it again, people start to say, ‘Oh, it’s boring, he’s doing the same thing over and over, he’s out of ideas.’ But in the end, it’s a good song, and that should be the point. It is the point. The song is everything."
On critics and listeners: "Critics are kind to me, they’ve always been kind to me. There are two kinds of people who buy my albums. First there are people in the industry – songwriters, artists, producers and critics who follow music. They are the kind who don’t tend to pay for their albums, though. The other kind are people who somehow hear it and like it enough to buy it, because they like the songs.... I don’t sell a lot of albums, but the ones that are out there are listened to."
On changes in the music industry since Lowe began (in the ’60s): "I’m not exaggerating when I say – well, maybe I am exaggerating just a little – that when we started out, we’d sit in our agent’s waiting room and the other acts there would be, like, plate spinners and comedians and variety acts. There was no music industry then."
On last year’s tribute album, Labour of Love: "Actually, I was rather annoyed. Tribute albums started out being done for dead artists, especially so their families could get some royalties. And I’m not dead. They called me up and asked me if I wanted to be involved, and I didn’t. I actually asked them not to do it, and they did anyway. I mean, there are some nice numbers on there and they handled it well, but I’m stunned that a living artist has no say over it – I asked them not to do it and they went ahead and did it!" |
