(As of this writing, Prism has completed their 2005 "Doin' Damage" tour of Canada, and are recording a new album):
Q: You toured extensively this year. How was it?
A: Incredible; I’m very pleased with the band. We played the Calgary Stampede, dates in Ontario, a lot of outdoor shows, civic arenas and a few clubs. The boys tore up; the band is playing with real intensity now, with a menacing energy. The audience reaction is fantastic-the plan is working-the new look, fresh songs, energy to burn. People are really picking up on it.
Q: This year’s tour is called “Prism - Doin’ Damage”. Are you doing damage?
A: That was a phrase that kept popping up in rehearsals last Spring-we’d storm through a song and then agree, “We’ll do some damage with that one!” It stuck-it’s on the tour T-shirts. I haven’t been this excited about Prism since the days of our early success; the band is so hot now.
The plan is to put Prism out in front of the public in a fresh new way, with a sonic and visual onslaught like never before, and to get the new album released, followed by another. It’s very much about the future-I see a new chapter here.
Q: “Visual” onslaught? New album? What’s up with all that?
A: Visually, we have all good-looking guys these days (laughs). There is a new look-an onstage dress code. The stage backdrop is new this year. While the music is the important thing, we do discuss presentation, the unified front. No beards, no one is allowed to get fat; we dress similar to each other; the non-uniform. We really care that the look reflects the lean ‘n mean attitude onstage. It’s exciting-there’s something special about it-the ferocious attitude in the playing. We’re hungry for it.
We’ve changed the live show a great deal. On this tour we sneaked in a brand new song from the forthcoming album here and there, and put in some old faves not played in years. The guys suggested songs that I hadn’t considered in a long time--“Nickels & Dimes” is on the set list now-I’d forgotten I wrote it! It’s a meaty two-guitar romp, and we stretch out on it, doing plenty of damage. “N-n-no” and “Hello” are in there, too. People who know the albums dig this stuff.
But the focus is on the new songs, new CDs, moving Prism forward to a new phase. It’s been awhile since the band was a creative force, and now we’ve got something to offer. I want to see the day when we’ve released so many new albums the audience requests those songs as much as the older catalogue.
The creative juices are flowing again. I’ve got new songs written and ready, ones I’ve been crafting for awhile. These songs mean a lot to me, and the band is ready. It would be a crime not to make an album now.
Q: Tell us about the changes in the band itself:
A: (Drummer) Gary Grace has been with us for a number of years now, so the audience knows him. But yeah, there have been some deliberate changes--the very structure of the band now is so potent. Since the early days of Prism I’ve played both guitar and bass on record and live. But my desire always was to have someone to take up more of the bass role, to free things up for me on guitar. Bass was not my first instrument-guitar and lead vocals were.
(Editor’s note: Bassist Timothy B. Hewitt signed on as engineer, co-producer of Prism’s new album and touring bassist in 2006).
Now I’m free to get to business on guitar. But here’s the kick: Keyboardist Steve-O plays guitar too; it’s his first instrument, so there’s another dimension. He tears up on the trademark Prism keyboard parts, but then straps on a Telecaster and suddenly we have twin guitars going.
A lot of Prism records feature two guitars; “Take Me Away” comes to mind. I played both parts on the record, but now Steve-O just looks at me to see which part I’m going to play, and is ready for the other part, regardless of which I go for. It’s magic, like brothers or something. I’ve always loved bands with two guitars--now we’ve got it. Steve-O has shredder chops, and the soul of a Keith Richards-he’s the right guy.
He played with us previously, and was so good, I made a mental note that we had to have him in the band full-time. I kept in touch with him & promised the day would come when he’d be a permanent fixture in Prism. Here we are. He’s a good singer too, as are Gary and Tim, so the harmonies are strongest ever. This is the band I’ve always wanted. I’m excited about where we can take the music.
Q: What is the direction? What’s the album going to sound like?
A: I know how Prism sounds, what ingredients should be there; this is about moving it into the future, taking our listeners on a ride. Technically, studios and keyboard sounds keep getting better-and there’s a trick to putting the Prism twist on modern sounds. But what motivates me is that we have the passion, something strong to say musically & lyrically to make this a good record.
Q: So what are the songs about?
A: Lyrically, Prism has always managed to comment without preaching, as in “Take Me to the Kaptin” and others. The new songs hit that balance, like “Big Black Sky”, one of the new titles on the record-it’s apocalyptic, but from one person’s feeling it. Others just rock out, like “Ya Bother Me”-you don’t have to make a profound statement every time. I always enjoy lyrics which are quite open to interpretation, allowing the sonic side to sweep you along, while the listener applies personal meaning to the words. Studies at UCLA show the human mind always looks for meaning and order, even in street noise and sounds of nature. That fact can open up a whole toolbox for a songwriter. There will be some surprises on this album. The world is increasingly more of a connected place-our new music reflects that.
My concern is the band should never make a CD that merely says, “Here we are, letting everyone know we can make a Prism record,” like what’s the point? Self-parody is out. Back to the word “passion” again.
A couple of writers recently approached me about submitting songs, asking if they should write “in the Prism style.” But the style has never resided in the writing; rather in the arranging, the instrumentation. A folk song or Italian opera can be transformed as a Prism track. “Virginia” sounded nothing like Prism originally-writer Bruce Miller was a jazzy-folk fiddle player.
Still, with some current monster grooves from Gary & Tim, we’re letting the bluesy guitar roots show, the raw side. We have a slide blues on there, and Steve-O is a roots country boy in space (laughs). I played harmonica in bands prior to Prism, and we’ve used R&B horns, so let’s use it all, y’know? Songs ride on top of that stuff, including ethereal keyboards-space where required. The attitude is, "take THAT; it's recognizable Prism all right, but get used to THIS..."
Q: What’s the album called?
A: The working title of the album is “Full Circle” which partly refers to the fact that I first came into Prism having been a lead singer and guitarist all my life. I only played bass and behaved myself because it was “the boys” calling, my old pals from the Seeds of Time, with a name-change to Prism. It’s ancient history now-full circle.
Q: Let’s go to more recent history. You’ve been fronting the band for a few years now, more on guitar; less on bass. You say this role isn’t new to you?
A: I was lead singer and lead guitarist with my own band “Harlow”. I had to break up my own band to go with the Prism “project” as it was called at the time. I was already on a mission, y’know? I was already performing my own songs, like “Take Me Away”, “Flyin’”, “Nickels & Dimes” and others…I brought all that into Prism.
The Prism/Seeds of Time guys, as we were called previously, always told me they liked what I did, at least during the times they wanted me in (laughs). I was in and out of the Seeds of Time at least three times. But what they seemed to like was my work in my own bands-as front-man, singer, guitar player, songwriter, and my rather animated sense of showmanship, my monkey-on-a-stick (laughs). But when that was brought into the Seeds of Time or Prism, it never quite fit; no-one knew what to do with it. Too bad they mainly needed a bassist (laughs).
So my role in Prism was never about my capabilities; it was more about filling whatever job needed doing. “We love ya Al; play the bass on this song, guitar on that one-sing this part.” I was locked into this utility role in those days. Frankly it wasn’t fulfilling; I always felt under-utilized.
They already had a singer and guitarist-my role was always suppressed, limited. They never really wanted all that I brought in, and truthfully, were never comfortable with my extroversion, the way I dressed and such.
Also, there was a “little brother” dimension to it-I was always the cute kid, the junior, even though I’m only a year or so younger than those guys. It was a culture of chiefs, with very few Indians in sight. These patterns are life-long, hard to break. I’ve had to do some serious self-esteem work, no joke.
Ron Tabak was an exception; he welcomed my past, where I’d often fronted just as vocalist, no guitar, tossing the mic stand around, doing dance moves. So when we first got together in Prism, Ron asked me to give him lessons in that stuff, although it might’ve been Bruce Fairbairn’s idea. Ron would come over to my place; we’d push the furniture away and practice stage moves.
Q: It must have been an exciting time?
A: Sure, it was a gas to have that initial blast of success, the hits, packed arenas and awards. But I don’t miss the old days at all-I’m happier now, with what’s happening now. These are the good old days, as the song says.
Q: So now…
A: Now I’m picking up where I left off in the centre-stage role. I’m totally at home now; doing something new within the old brand name.
Q: Do you feel you’re filling Ron Tabak’s shoes?
A: When Ron died in ‘84, it was a full stop. Almost four years off, in fact. I was against firing Ron when he was let go in ’81--we then had a chapter with Henry Small, but when Ron died, we were in the process of regrouping-it was the reunion.
Last Christmas Ron Tabak’s sister Terry-Lynn & her husband met with my wife Leah and me at Ron’s gravesite. Terry-Lynn is a singer too; records gospel with her church group. She gave the current edition of Prism her stamp of approval-having me sing seems an acceptable way to throw the torch. After not seeing the band since Ron died, she finally came to our Vancouver show this year, and enjoyed it-she said she almost jumped up onstage with us. That is very special. Ron and I were very close--I think of him every day. We became Christians at around the same time, he prior to me. He was on his way to my place to fellowship the day he died.
Aside from missing Ron like a brother, losing the definitive lead singer is tough for any band, if it wishes to continue. Leaving my role unchanged, we decided to continue with singer Darcy (Deutsch) until he left, and the singing finally fell to me. I’d been singing the choruses all my life-now I’m just singing the verses too. In a sense it’s that simple.
Q: You sound uncannily like Ron at times.
A: Not intentionally-I’m not imitating him; I’m me. But I stood beside him for years while he sang these songs-we do have the same tone in the upper range, and can both growl low. Sometimes I’ll add a flourish of Ron’s here and there, looking out at the audience to see if anyone picks up on it.
Q: But the band sounds more real now than at times past. Would you agree?
A: To keep it “inside,” I’m an original member, one of the singers and songwriters. It just seemed the right thing to do, rather bringing in an outsider who happened to be capable of singing Prism songs.
The vocalist is the authenticity-it’s the personification, the main communicator. Henry (Small) came to a show last December and jammed with us. He took me aside later and said something very nice; that I was singing the stuff with authority, having lived the songs since their inception. Rodney Higgs, aka Jim Vallance weighed in with similar encouragement, and I value their views very much. They’ll be honest about it.
Jim and I get together for lunch fairly regularly-that’s how friendships are maintained at our age-and I consulted him earlier this year while making the changes within Prism. He still feels an attachment to the band-after all, it was his band in the beginning. He encouraged me to push ahead; that means a lot to me. He also came to the latest Vancouver show & gave it two thumbs-up.
Q: So you’re the natural heir, if by default?
A: I wouldn’t wish the vocalist job on anyone-Prism songs are very tough to sing. They’re really high-pitched, which was intentional. We’d be in the studio with Ron, and someone would say, “it sounds great-let’s try it one key higher.” We were on a higher-is-better kick. Poor Ron would cringe, but he could do it, so the rest is history. I sang high harmony parts, so the lead is just fine for me.
Q: It took awhile to finally get here, with a couple of singers between.
A: Over the years a few singers have approached us to offer their services, along the lines of, “I’m your man. I can sing just like Ron.” I smile graciously and thank them for the offer, but the guy inside me wearing the trench-coat wants to grab them by the throat and say:
“Listen, punk: Do you know what it takes to be the singer in Prism? You must walk in a dead man’s shoes. You have to have been there, in this band, living these songs for thirty years, writing many of them yourself, a near-death experience. Then shriek like banshee, on key, wearing underwear three sizes too small. Ya can’t earn these stripes, kid. Nobody applies for this job--nobody!” But of course I’m far too polite to say such a thing (laughs).
My point is that singing in this band requires insider life experience-you have to have lived it. I taught Ron Tabak the songs I wrote for Prism; I would change lyrics or curve a melody line to suit him. I coached him in the studio. I’m the singer now, sure-who else? Not some kid who claims he can do it.
Most singers stay in their comfort zones, within their range-which is good advice. It’s not a competition sport where you wear a number, and at the end someone is declared the winner. But with Prism it’s a blood sport. Again, those impossibly high notes-as vocalist, you have to hit them full voice, with plenty of emotion-that’s what the audience comes to see. There’s always a chance you might not survive it. This is entirely different from the normal situation for a singer, where you can take a few chances if you feel you’re “on”, or else play it safe. With Prism the dangers are built in-you have to push it to the very limit every night.
Onstage I occasionally change just a word or two in a phrase, so it’s like I’m saying it for the first time. This is real-I’m really telling it each time. When I walk out onstage, I’m thinking of Ron Tabak, I’m thinking of John Hall, I look to see where Bruce Fairbairn formerly stood with the horn section. I’ve got the whole history in my head. So when the music starts, I’m believing it, so you can believe it too.
Q: Why this burst of energy? Why now?
A: Here’s a bit of very recent Prism history: Frankly, Prism was going nowhere over the last decade or so-we needed renewal badly. We’ve always attracted great players; onstage it always rocks--that wasn’t the problem. But there was no direction, no plan, no willingness in the old guard to create a new album, a fresh presentation, or make an investment in the future. We had no T-shirts to sell at shows; the willingness wasn’t there. We hadn’t changed our set list in years; we weren’t learning more of our own songs to perform--we never rehearsed. It was an austerity program-low budget, often no crew; we even did a few shows as a trio, just to save money. I was against all this. Our 2004 promo photo was a black & white outdoor snapshot, photocopied. In my view the band was going downhill. A band is like a marriage relationship, or a business-it’s either growing or shrinking-we were shrinking.
I felt Prism had to be restored to the dignity the name deserves. This year we have a whole merchandise division, the new stage backdrops, a great studio poster photo that’s album-cover quality. We’re revamping the website, starting a DVD project with V3 Mediaworks.
We now rehearse all the time because we love what we do, and it’s paying off. The show is often over two hours long these days, without feeling too long--we just want to play. This never happened in the old days. The summer tour was dynamite, and all shows on this fall/winter tour are sold out, which tells me the word is getting out. The new songs & album are exciting. The renewal was overdue, and now it feels fresh; the magic is there again.
Q: The fan-mail response on the Prism website and press reviews have certainly been positive. Were you apprehensive about what the reception might be this year?
A: I realized there could’ve been some skepticism about my late-blooming in front of the band, until people see and hear us live. Then it all makes sense; the chemistry, the aggressive playing, the way we look together. People come up to us after shows and say, “I get it now-it’s a whole new era for Prism.”
Three years ago my concern about taking over vocals was that it shouldn’t appear as some last-ditch attempt to keep the band alive, like “now we’re bringing the bass-player up front” or such nonsense. I’ve worked long and hard to keep this band alive-I’ve been managing the band’s business since ’94 when Rocket left. This is an exciting time, a fresh beginning, not just for me, but the namesake and its future.
Q: There seems to be a universal acceptance of “Classic Rock” bands these days. That term seems global now.
A: Yeah. The term “classic rock” wasn’t around when we put the band back together in late ’87. There are two ways to view this-some just want to go down memory lane. I’ve never wanted Prism to become just an “oldies” act, going through the motions, losing the edge a band should have to stay current. You can end up just playing county fair matinees, going soft--no thanks. I firmly believe “classic rock” can refer to new music too. Prism “is”, as the album liner notes state.
In the minds of supporters, classic rock is not an “oldies” phenomenon anyway; people now seem genuinely happy that vintage bands simply exist in the here-and-now. The first-generation fans are in their forties, and now younger people have the CDs, some in their teens. The time-line may have been an issue in the ‘90s, like, “you guys still play?”, but it’s just not an issue now. The young fans don’t want a history lesson; they just show up to check out the band. That’s true for the older fans too, some of whom know our history in detail.
There are a select few who may feel Prism should have folded when Ron died, and it’s only human nature that departing members feel it should end when they leave (laughs). That’s understandable. But the majority just enjoy the fact that it’s rolling on.
Q: What about the old guys, some of the original members?
A: I am very aware that the “definitive” lineup which became known as Prism, Ron Tabak, Rocket Norton, John Hall, Lindsay Mitchell and myself is considered the lineup, the one that received the Junos and played the coliseums. Four of the five of us, minus Ron, played together for ten years before Prism.
But time moves on; things must change. As a member of my generation, I can occasionally lament the demise of the original Rolling Stones lineup with Brian Jones & Bill Wyman, or the youthful Who with Keith Moon and John Entwhistle; even the early Kinks. The original lineups are gone, but the survivors are still working those bands, writing new songs, taking it forward, dealing with reality. You can’t go back, and you certainly can’t blame them for continuing with what you loved them for in the first place.
With Prism, some of us are dead, retired, too old or grumpy to do it (laughs). But this band has always been changing, moving along in some way or another, like it or not. Someone recently sent me a link to a photo of Henry (Small) after we fell apart in ’82-Henry surrounded by some American players for the Beat Street sessions and tour, with our logo right there under the photo. So there have certainly been changes. We’ve had some very cool players & sidemen over the years, and surely the “definitive” edition of Ron, Rocket, John, Lin & myself is still the central part of that history. We lived through a lot together. Rocket, John, I miss those guys-there were times when we were best friends. We’re still in touch.
Q: Aside from the “definitive” lineup, there have been huge changes both before as well as after.
A: Yes, Prism was more a community project that became a band. The first album cover photo had Tom Lavin of Powder Blues in it, plus Ab Bryant of Chilliwack & Headpins, and Jim “Rodney Higgs” Vallance, with every session player in town performing on it. Bruce Fairbairn was actually in the band, playing trumpet onstage. Tom Keenlyside was on board for the first five minutes, even the road crew had a piece of the pie.
I was across town at that moment, recording my own band & getting phonecalls like, “Can you think of the name for this project? We’re offering $500.” It was called “Under Construction” at the time. They were phoning me, saying Bruce Fairbairn was listening to my songs, Tom & Ab would soon be gone…I was in the loop. Rocket and I were room-mates; we were bringing home studio tapes. He brought my songs to Bruce Fairbairn.
When I jumped in after that photo, my then-disbanded band had Will McAlder in it. As I was taking Tom Lavin’s place, the two of them formed Powder Blues. So Prism and those in its orbit were quite a large community back then.
Jim Vallance’s website offers a great perspective on that period; recommended reading. Everyone looked around and said this Prism “project” has to become a real band with a solid lineup. That’s when I said okay; I’m in.
Q: But still with that sense of frustration?
A: Yeah, as much as we had something special together as a band, my limited function has led me to ponder the “what if?” syndrome ever since. What if I’d never joined Prism, but rather followed my own musical path? But in the end it’s not healthy to think like that, like some guys who stay married for thirty years, all the while questioning whether she’s the right girl or not. It’s where you spent your life-you invested your time in that situation, with that person…or in that band, those guys. The time runs out. Rocket and I can now talk freely about all this, as he’s been interviewing me for his book.
Q: Rocket Norton has written a book on Prism?
A: Prism, the earlier Seeds of Time, the whole thing, precise history with a fictional twist; his own character, as he tells me. I can’t wait to read it-it’s being published now, titled “Lost in Space”. Rocket won’t let me read it just yet-he obtained signed permission from everyone mentioned in the book, except me. He claims I’m the main character, with all our exploits and naughty adventures in there; he won’t dare show it to me. He says he’ll just publish the book and run for cover (laughs). I said it’s okay; just spell the name right.
Q: Rumour has it that you have a book in the works too?
A: Of course! But this is Rocket’s moment-he’s the one who’s actually done it, so buy a copy, folks. My journalistic attempts are more straight memoirs. Long ago a few of us regularly wrote extremely long letters to each other, depending on who was living in England or Canada. Rocket was part of that, so was Warren Cann of Ultravox, and Ronny Von Johnny (nee Ron Macey) of the Skydiggers. We’d write hilarious novellas to each other; one was on an entire roll of toilet paper as I recall, spooled back up and mailed. I’ve got most all such letters, minus the toilet roll. Plus I always kept a journal anyway. So yeah, I’ve been transcribing it into book form for awhile now, no hurry. I studied journalism with Crawford Kilian at college; he read my stuff, handed it back and said, “You can write-go write.” My plan is to simply tell of the riotous events on every page-make the reader turn the page, that’s all.
Q: How about Lindsay Mitchell?
A: Lindsay is one of the great blues-based guitarists--always was. And he’s written some great songs. I can’t speak for Lin; you’d have to talk with him. But he has always said the rock ‘n roll business and the pose required is somewhat superficial, embarrassing. The blues is a more authentic folk art form, more dignified-you can age gracefully in it. I believe there are albums, a whole new career that could yet emerge from Lin, if he wants to do it.
When I say “one of the great guitarists,” Lin’s talent warrants more success than has been realized thus far. Prism afforded some success, but a solo career could cinch it for him, even now. When Lin was starting out, there were only a few white kids who could play true solo guitar, slow-hand style: Peter Green (of the original Fleetwood Mac), Eric Clapton & Jeff Beck-that was it. Lindsay could play like that by 1968. These days there are kids in every town who can pull off decent imitations of Eddie Van Halen’s hammer-off licks, but Lin has that soulful, intense expression only the greats have.
Q: You used the phrase “late bloomer” to describe yourself in relation to the band now. How long a future do you see?
A: When Rodney Dangerfield was starting his comedy career after selling aluminum siding, he was told the way to succeed was play all these clubs in the Catskills, then move up to another circuit and so on. He said, “I’m 45; I don’t have time to do that. Get me the Tonight Show now…” I’m a lot older than that, and very aware of the clock ticking-as the Stones said, I have my freedom, but I don’t have much time. I’m the late bloomer with the gratitude attitude, thankful for each day, taking nothing for granted. I’m on borrowed time; it’s all God’s grace.
I’m genuinely happy now, maybe for the first time-and I see a future for this band. I’m writing songs faster than I can think of them. Jim Vallance says I’m like a kid, excited about being in his first band-close to the truth.
Q: Yes, your energy onstage these days is like a kid’s. You look like you’re in your Twenties up there, and sitting here with you, you appear to be thirty-something. So how old are you?
A: Yeah, I’ve always been accused of having a painting up in my attic of a wretched old man, while I jump around like a teenager (laughs). Actually, I’m addressing that in a new song called “Dorian Gray”…I hope to have it ready for this album or the next one.
After recent show an extremely attractive young lady, a Pamela Anderson look-alike approached me, saying in a sultry voice, “I’ll bet you work out, ‘cause you have the tightest butt I’ve ever seen on a guy.” I answered, “Thanks-not bad for fifty-four, eh?” (laughs). Her expression dropped and she ran off, in search of a glass of water, I guess. I’m probably older than her Dad.
Q: But the hair, the chewing gum; the fact you’re so skinny-where is that painting of the old guy?
A: Vancouver’s oldest teenager, as Bruce Allen labeled me. The hair is all mine, no “product,” and the gum is Dentyne Ice Intense-I like to believe it helps me hit the high notes (laughs). John Moore depicted me in his novel “Three of a Kind” as Al Monroe, with “the face of a ruined choirboy” (laughs). My doctor warns me I have to put on weight; I weigh 132 lbs on tour, 135 when home; it never changes. I feel great, in shape. And my eighty-six year-old Mom has the same hair, no grey. Thank the Lord for the gene-pool (laughs).
Q: Okay. Name some of your early musical influences.
A: I was five years old when Elvis exploded on the scene in ’56-I recall everyone, from Grandmas to toddlers, doing their imitations of “Hound Dog” and swiveling as though wearing invisible hula-hoops. I thought this was like a big holiday, like Christmas and birthdays all rolled into one, all this fuss. Though far too young to be discerning, the music got me, and I made the connection between Elvis’ records and the ‘40s rhythm & blues records my Dad had, the same moving bass lines and whacking snare drum. I recall jumping all over the living-room furniture with my plastic ukulele, doing air-guitar moves to these records. I caught the disease.
Then came Duane Eddy & instrumental bands like the Ventures. I did my first gigs, recitals at school functions in Grade 5 playing Eddy’s “Forty Miles of Bad Road” and others. Then the Beatles & Stones hit, and swept us all away. The education they provided steered us to their own sources-Chuck Berry, Motown, Muddy Waters, Slim Harpo, Howlin’ Wolf, all the blues giants. Then the map of exploration lead to Hank Williams, Chet Baker, Duke Ellington, Dorothy Love Coates, Sam Cooke & The Soul Stirrers, all manner of country, jazz, folk, gospel-hearing the beauty of it all, how it all fits together. It’s still growing for me.
Q: What do you listen to now?
A: Like what’s on the ‘Pod this week? The latest Jets Overhead album “Bridges”, Stabilo’s new one, Thelonius Monk’s “Monk’s Mood”, gospel shouter Russ Taff’s “Under Their Influence”, a compilation of Frank Sinatra’s earliest stuff, including “Castle Rock”, an attempt at R&B with Harry James blowing almost bebop style over a 12-bar. Bill Frisell’s “Nashville”, the Cure’s “Wild Mood Swings”-I like Robert Smith’s work, Debussy’s Complete Orchestral Works, Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2, and a Bruce Cockburn compilation.
Q: Really?
A: Really, that’s what’s in my suitcase-Prism is now on the road for the autumn tour, and Steve-O has brought a stack of new CDs, too; Ritchie Kotzen’s “Slow”, Government Mule, Derrick Sherinian, Hot Apple Pie-we’re listening all day long. I also brought videos of Jeff Beck playing live in Italy for two hours, a Sergeant Pepper’s documentary, Muddy Waters’ “I Can’t Be Satisfied” documentary, and some other musical stuff.
Q: How about just today’s menu?
A: I listen for four distinct reasons at different times: One is to hear new stuff, ideas, to try to stay informed, somewhat current, which is really a joke. Growing up, we had maybe six favourite bands, not six hundred-there’s a lot of music out there now. Another reason is to just let go, surrender to music that transports, so I’m not automatically analyzing, following the chord structure mathematically, y’know? Debussy can do that to me; some jazz too, like Charlie Parker.
Then there’s the spiritual music that leads one to prayer & praise, faith boosters from hymns through Take 6 to Mighty Clouds of Joy--all the same Spirit.
Finally, I deliberately visit familiar reminders of musical bearings, like Robert Johnson’s big 29, Muddy Waters or the Stones, including new stuff like “Bigger Bang”, sneak peeks at the past, to hear how an old record sounds now, what the appeal was. I put on a New York Dolls album recently, which I dare not admit to musician friends; an old Bowie and Beach Boys too. Someone said part of what makes records appealing is the way they were recorded, the atmosphere at the session, the recording techniques of the time, which might include the very latest stuff, here and now. Beyond a point it’s a comfort-zone which most people fall into-the “stuff they like”.
Q: Who are your heroes?
A: Besides the resurrected Lord Jesus Christ, as the available Spirit and Saviour? Let’s see; there’s Groucho Marx-linguists claim some of Groucho’s phrases actually contributed to the English language. I still have Humphrey Bogart’s lines in my head on occasion, or his writer Raymond Chandler… Field Marshall Erwin Rommel was a boyhood hero-I read every book about him, while despising who he fought for. Errol Flynn, in the “life as art” department. An old German friend, Peter Von Gerloff, an international antique dealer and prankster, moved in aristocratic circles, but would hang with me and my friends. Long dead now, we had a blast in the old days. I miss my Dad, totally supportive, and my uncle Adam, a war hero & fun guy who can be seen in the D-Day footage. (Long) John Baldry was a great friend and mentor when I lived in England. Bigger-than-life people, all of them gone. It’s a guy thing, long ago and far away.
Q: Okay, some silly fan stuff: Favourite colour?
A: Pearlescent orange.
Q: Favouite clothes?
A: Folk-beat revival; black turtlenecks & black-rim glasses for now.
Q: Favourite food?
A: No time for food; no booze, drugs or sleep either. Just exercise, vitamins and prayer-food for the spirit.
Q: As you carry on the Prism legacy--any final words?
A: (Laughs) Carrying that torch, navigating the path, yes. Musicians often play with different combinations of people, in club dates or casuals, and the results can be great. But it’s still not a band-a real band is a living thing, beyond musicianship. Personalities, relationships, respect, determination to work together for a common goal--all these play a part. The magic is the mutual intuition, mind-reading as we play together, that sense of purpose which makes the whole larger than the sum of its parts. This is a band, believe me.
Now let’s see how far we can take it; move it forward. I hope our fans want to come along for the ride.