Playboy, April 1979

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I'd been to the Palladium in New York for the first time during Christmas vacation, 1961. Still called The Academy of Music — the name was a relic of palmier seasons — it was about as grubby then as it is now. Between showings of some wide-screen John Wayne oat opera, Murray the K was putting on his annual holiday extravaganza. Right there on a single stage in hot succession: Joey Dee and the Starliters with "Shout" and "The Peppermint Twist," Cary "U.S." Bonds howling "School Is Out," tiny Timi Yuro belting "Hurt" above the din of the band without seeming need of a mike. Bobby Lewis, asweat and possessed, in thrashing fetal position on the stage, "I couldn't sleep at all last night, just a-thinkin' of you!..." Heaven. A living jukebox of the year's top hits that wouldn't quit. Most of the audience stayed for all three daily shows, sleeping or making out while Wayne won the West. I was back last fall, chasing Rockpile, featuring Dave Edmunds and Nick Lowe. That they were opening for Van Morrison at the Palladium, site of one of my first multiple rock 'n' roll orgasms, was one of those meaningful meaningless accidents that Vonnegut has a funny word for. Rockpile is a semi-demi-supergroup among fans of so-called New Wave rock, but I was there less to ride the Trendy train than because its music seems to come so directly from the pure sweet fountain of Fifties and early Sixties rock, the source beneath the Murray the K cobwebs somewhere down deep near Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly and the Everly Brothers. Edmunds, at 35, is among other things the grand old Welshman of record producing in England, with credits including Ducks Deluxe, the Flamin' Groovies, Foghat and Brinsley Schwarz. It was in 1969, as producer of an album for Schwarz, that he met Lowe, then lead singer-songwriter-hass player for the group. They became good friends — something you can see onstage - and Lowe began to absorb everything he could about producing from Edmunds. That was considerable, since Edmunds went through a period of re-creating such rock classics as "Da Doo Ron Ron" and "Let It Rock" down to the last note and muffled grunt. Lowe, in the last couple of years, has been gaining his own reputation as a production whiz. He's played, written songs for or produced nearly everyone who's anyone in British New Wave, including most of the creatures in the Stiffs stable, most notably among them Elvis Costello — whose three albums Lowe produced. He and Edmunds also have separate careers going: Lowe's Pure Pop for Now People (Columbia) was released last spring, and a new one is promised shortly. Edmunds' latest, Tracks on Wax 4 (Swan Song), was the reason for the current tour, since record-company wisdom demands touring to push what is lovingly referred to as "new product." During last spring's tour, Lowe, who had the newest album, was billed as leader of the group. This time around, the new one is Edmnds', so he gets top billing. It doesn't appear to matter to them. One reason they're in the band together is the fun of it. Their Palladium show is a rave-up. From my balcony seat, Lowe, on bass, in football shirt and Levis, looks like a bean-pole Peter Townshend, while Edmunds, on lead guitar in a black suit and red tie, looks a little like Bonnie Franklin in Eliot Ness drag; and, come to think of it, the rhythm guitarist brings to mind a slightly wasted Beaver Cleaver. Pure pop for now people. As opening act. they get maybe 40 minutes and no encores. Thor use it. Like a one-(land Murray the K show, they rip out winners rapid-fir•. much of it solid as the rock of Chuck Berry and some of it pieces of the actual rock. The set is a three-braid of original tunes from Tracks on Wax 1 and Pure Pop laced with such true grease anima as Smiley Lewis' 1955 Imperial hit, I Hear You 101°r/tint. As the set progresses, they seem increasingly like kids at play. truly plugged in to the raw atavistic fun that rock *ns is supposed lo be. I liked it so ninth I saw them again in Chicago tcti days late, at the Park Il'est, where they were headlining after Van Morrison clashed and bunted fol-lowing his Palladium shows and Cairn-dav A-ight t jaw In Chicago, the survivors had them dancing in the aisles of the Park %Vest as Lowe sang in merry triplet descent: And so it goes, so it god's, so it goes, so it goes, But uthere it's gain', no one Edmunds doing Chuck Berry's d Land is a killer: I don't think 1'‘e ever heard anyone, other than Chuck himself. (Jo better Chuck guitar. They are on, and Lowe hardly takes notice when he %prologs a bass string during Heart of the City: he jes' plays on. After the show. I talked with Lowe in his tom bus. parked outside. watching the rain call on the black shining street as we talked, a gallon jug of cheap() California wint on the table between We began with metaphysics. PLAYBOY: What's the appeal of it? LOWE: 1-11e reason why I started . . . I know it might sound very glib, but it's true . . . l started because I thought I could pull more chicks if I was in a group. PLAYBOY: What would you have done if you hadn't been allowed to he a tod-'11' roller? LOWE: nI knows. In real estate. ou something like that. I don't lionesik quite know. I was a journalist 101 while. I was a waiter as well. I used 10 make the tea, basically, and they used u) give me the odd story to is rite i*“. always liked xvriting. PLAYBOY: I It shOWS in � U111' lyrics. LOWE: i always liked Chuck Burly. for instance, because his words were always %en• clever and very _ . relevant, lot want of a better word. Also. they always fitted the heat so well. ICS like our song I Knew the Rude: the words arc \CIA much a part of the heat. PLAYBOY: 1\11(611 t Ott pioduett an album. how do Sec your function? LOWE: I'm not interested in sound. don't know how to work the board ol ant thin like that. My function is to In a hit of a psychologist: what I do is get people to perloini. I leave all the sound and nerything tip to the engineer. .\11(1 I Gill 0111V do it us() or three times. II I can't get tem to pia% in two or three times. then well go on to something else. There's a hit 01 hull Alit talked about sound, nowadays. There are gadgets and things on domestic stereo equipment that VOW(' hail* tO Ix a hat 10 t.CII tilt 1)100th thileallkt. I t11111k Ws a CaSt of just tutu it tip and fiddle around with has,, middle and treble until it sounds good. PLAYBOY: Nati don't need 32 tracks.... LOWE: I don't think so. no. because (bun \nu start filling them up with all solts ot bullshit. Look at that great stulT stax—Otis Redding, Sam and Dive four-tract:, all of that. 11re did our Elvis (...osttallo album. .111, T)-ue, ill an eight-track studio, and it cost abut, I don't know, about S2000 'or the whole record. PLAYBOY: 1110W N*Oli happen to gel hooked up with Costello? LOWE: I've kin him km years mid tear's. I met him, of all places, at The (41‘ ern Club ill Lkelpool. 1-1(• li‘cd there and lie was a Ian of a group I used U) be in, Minsk\ schwa's/. Ile just start-ed talking to me. Ile w:is 17, 18 )tais old. 11c's not %try old now -23 OF 21- .111(1 1.1Sed to 111) IO the gigs, and whenever he tame to innlon. he used to sort ()I sleep on In) floor...1nd he plmed the guitar. . • PLAYBOY: Didn't he have a day 'oh as computet- programmer? LOWE: he worked lot Elizabeth At-d•n. lie %vas telling the boss lit %vas sick, and he was coming out and cutting Ii is first 1111. PLAYBOY: Getting hack to Rockpile. which of t oll IS really the leader? LOWE: it thu moment. Dave is. I was, oil the List tour. 1 here's no ri% airy its it at all; it's just good Itm. l‘re tj such a good time tip them we're real good friends. We [all out with each oilier, but then, that's ivliat friends arc [or. PLAYBOY: Isn't that lather an unusual setup? LOWE: We're trying to change the rules, 1-ea 1 1‘ COS there's na 1.111tti hi Int k *If 1011. Ptopl• haVe been saying, "Volt can't do this . . . but we sav wily not? Honestly, the don't. really (are if we're, bending a few of the rules. I mean, Da\ e is a motor mechanic. and I can go hack to the newspaper. For years, people wouldn't have pissed On tiff iI we *were on fire. It ain't that impot taut, really. It's just real good fun. Scanning errors uncorrected... Playboy, April 1979 David Standish profiles Rockpile and interviews Nick Lowe. Images Page scans. Cover.

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