Parker's still pretty angry
By J.D. Considine
There was a time when Graham
Parker was cast as one of English rock's premier angry young men.
He wasn't exactly a punk rocker, but along with Elvis Costello,
his songs seemed to zero in on the discontent of a generation
of young Britons.
From the blunt hostility of
"Don't Ask Me Questions" to the brusque passion of "Love
Gets You Twisted," Mr. Parker seemed to epitomize the emotional
foment of rock's new wave.
These days, though, Graham
Parker, who will be opening for Eric Clapton at the Merriweather
Post Pavillion on Thursday, seems to have calmed down. Perhaps
it's the unexpected gentleness he invests in his material; maybe
it's just the backwash from writing songs like "Life Gets
Better" or "Wake Up (Next to You)," but Mr. Parker
seems to be mellowing. Could it be that this rabid young man,
who once expressed his discontent with his American label through
the pointed sarcasm of "Mercury Poisoning," has finally
begun to look on the brighter side of things?
In a word, no.
"Basically, I don't
scream as much," Mr. Parker explains. "That can often
be seen as 'angry,' and now that I sing in a more controlled way,
I don't seem as angry. But the only thing you have to do is look
at the lyrics to 'Break Them Down' to realize that I am pretty"
angry.
Indeed, the song, which opens
Mr. Parker's new album, "Steady Nerves," fairly quivers
with rage as it describes the systematic destruction of an Indian
community in the name of Christianity. "The missionary's
position is clear," he sneers. "Break them down."
Mellow, this isn't.
Then again, neither is it
as snarlingly aggressive as the music Mr. Parker performed on
such classic examples of new wave as "Howling Wind"
or "Squeezing Out Sparks." Where once he would pack
a song like "Saturday Night Is Dead" with desperate
intensity, new numbers like "The Weekend's Too Short"
channel that energy into a more stylized fusion of rock and R&B.
But, he explains, "'Weekend's
Too Short' is definitely a song not written from my point of view.
I mean, I don't care about the weekends particularly, do I? I
don't work 9 to 5 all week and let loose on Friday night. There
are other things to encompass in songwriting than 'Saturday Night
Is Dead,' which is a pretty angry song, I suppose.
"But that's about growing
up, as much as anything. 'Saturday Night' was not just about
controlled fun for the masses on the weekend; it was also a personal
thing about growing up, and, it was delivered in a very angry
way. Attitude is what's behind it. If you sing in a sort of wimpy
attitude, that shows you've been distorted by getting old, that
shows you've mellowed, more than the specifics of the songs.'
A "wimpy attitude" is one thing Graham Parker will
never be accused of having. "When
I do something, I don't know any other way to do it than with
conviction," he says. I write the songs with determination.
I don't use average chord sequences, I strive to make things
that really fire me up. And, once you've got to that, you've
got to keep firing. You've got to keep firing all the way until
the end of the record."
If Mr. Parker hasn't mellowed,
he has matured in a lot of ways. These days, he's even developed
a knack for writing love songs, as the tender "Wake Up (Next
to You)" amply demonstrates. Part of it is simply a matter
of improving his craft, although Mr. Parker as usual takes a curiously
individual approach. "If you can imagine something, you
can do it. That breathy voice - I wrote the song like that. It
was in my imagination, and when it came to recording, I could
do it, with a bit of tuning up and stuff.'
But it was getting out of
the England of his youth that most balanced his perspective.
"I'm not trapped in the suburbs of England, as I was in 1975,"
he says. "Everything was from the media, which is very much
what it's like In England. People are addicted to the gutter
press, you know. They read those awful tabloids, and it seems
to rule everyone's life. Even the three channels on television
reflect that. All you do is go out to the pubs and see an endless
continuation of it. I think that is something that frustrates
a lot of people, and I just happened to put it in songs, in a
very non-specific way.
"Now, I don't have that.
You know, you can't keep that kind of root forever, because all
you will end up doing is parodying yourself. Obviously, I'm a
much broader person that I was then. I've been around the world
and stuff, so it just doesn't occur in the same way.'
Furthermore, it doesn't sound
the same as it did then, in large part because Mr. Parker is working
with a different band, the Shot. Three out of the four members
have worked with him since 1982, but guitarist Brinsley Schwartz
is a holdover from the singer's earliest recordings.
Why? "Basically, he
comes up with complementary stuff." Mr. Parker says. "He
can come up with things that take my springboard and really bounce
off of it. And he's not that polished, really. However good
he is, he makes mistakes, he's fallible. There are these technicians
you can see on MTV all night long, who run their fingers all up
and down the fretboard. I don't get too much feeling from them.
But Brinsley, he gets to the backbone.'
Which, after all, is what Graham Parker's songs are all about.
Reproduced with kind permission from J.D. Considine.
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