I got on great with Jack. Since I began calling myself "Producer" on my records, starting with "Mona Lisa's Sister" in '88, I've based the whole idea of making records around Jack's work on "Sparks," which was: let the song do the talking. Most producers I've worked with have had an over inflated idea of their importance, but I didn't feel any of that with Jack. I can't think of a better recommendation than that, really. I recall doing some liner notes ("SOS/Live Sparks"?) that attempt to capture some of the flavour of our collaboration. You might want to check that. As for the mans' voluminous credits, you can find the info around somewhere.

Damn, I would have loved to have worked with him again some day.

Ah, great question!
For years, I've had these fancy-shmansie Neumans (Newmans!) stuck in front of me and haven't thought too much about it. But on my last studio effort, "Acid Bubblegum," after trying a couple of these expensive jobs, I asked the engineer if there was an SM58 lying around anywhere. He poked about in the closet for awhile before producing a real road hog of an example with a nice fat dent in it. We stuck it up and I recorded a bit of vocal. Voila! What a sound. For those of you who do not work the stages of the world, the Shure 58 is the standard 100 buck stage mic that is almost always at every gig, up there on the stand at soundcheck, lonesome in the pre-lighting person gloaming, battered yet phallic. I can't recall any producer thinking of using one on my voice in the studio until that day on "Acid" when I hit upon the idea. It was so bloody obvious, too, but always these big-ass oval jobs come out bouncing on springs in smartarse little cages and that's that. But if SM's are the boys for stage, why not in the studio? I reckon they were made for my gnarly chops, and I'll tell ya, anytime a stage soundman has sneaked some more sleek and pricy number on me and I've done the gig with it, I find myself at some point in the performance knowing I should have been more vigilant and not so easy going and stopped everything right there in soundcheck and insisted on that old road bastard the 58 himself; and make sure it's got loads of old crusted gob and plenty of scratches and dents in it. (Okay, scrub the crusty gob and dip the thing in disinfectant for me — even better.)

Yep, the questions keep getting better, alright.

"Geep" evolved when guys in the Rumour started calling me GP. Insert the other letter that forms the sound of GP, meaning E, and you've got Geep, which is what they often referred to me as. Like:
"Where the fuck's Geep? Oh, there 'e is, in the corner puttin' some skins together." Yes, 'tis I who am Geep.

Well, I'm gonna give you a break cos you respect and understand where I'm coming from on this. I respect your eloquence, likewise.
I think spending so much time in the States and observing the way religion is brought into the political arena and generally used as a big stick tends to jaundice ones view of the subject. My opinions are therefore somewhat harsh and I tend to colour everyone who claims a Belief or Faith with the same brush.
I might be parting company with you on the M. Scott Peck thing, though. These "inspirational" books really get up my nose; Readers Digest stuff — too simplistic and sentimentalized for my snotty intellect.

Regarding my feelings about those '80's albums, I certainly don't feel any regrets about the songs — even the "Grey Area" material. They hold up in their own way and I never compromised my writing a speck. But writers do have dips in the intensity of their output — I've noticed this is fairly common with "creative" people — and I guess you have to go thru the troughs to get back to real meat, which for me, returned with "Mona Lisa's Sister." I regret the enormous budgets that went with those "80's records though, but that was common at the time — everyone was ready to waste your money for you...

Hi Maureen.

Seeing as I have no New York City gigs on my "Carp" itinerary at present, I don't suppose I'll be visiting FUV. I have been there before — doing an acoustic session for them, and I tune in whenever I am barreling down I-87 and the NJ Turnpike. Yes, they have a good format, although even though I hear the usual suspects getting played, I haven't heard any of my stuff yet.

Carp fishing in America, eh? Well, if you talked to these blokes at any length you may have found out that we throw 'em back; I believe the Germans eat them, but they're none too tasty from what I gather. A big-ass carp'll give you a hell of a fight, at least the ones in the UK do, on the right tackle, and the whole atmosphere of the typical carp habitat is awesome and mysterious, and once, they were considered to be so smart as to be almost impossible to catch. I'll bet these guys you chatted with had some pretty expensive gear and probably a lot of crazy high protein baits and shit. Damn, I wanna retire in England near some great carp and tench (another fine fish that Americans would consider a waste of time because it feeds on the bottom and doesn't leap around when hooked) waters and veg the heck out for the rest of my days. But right now, I've got work to do...

The Will Birch book was a very entertaining read; I knew virtually nothing about "pub rock" before I read it. Very enlightening.

Sweden had some good gigs and the band members were great blokes.

The word "friendship" originated when a convict named Smyke Trout, chained to the forecastle of The Boorish — a prison ship anchored in the Thames estuary in 18-something or other, awaiting orders to sail to the prison island known as "Australia," — yelled in desperation: "Blimey, everybody 'ates me 'ere, I wish I 'ad a friend on this ship!" The words "friend" and "ship" were from thence on conjoined by the hapless convicts and heartless crews of those terrible vessels and the expression thus made its way to Aussie, and sailed back again to become part of the English language.

Yes, I was actually in Sweden on tour with The Missiles when I heard this remarkable piece of news. I bought a copy right away. Ah, Quo — the band every musician loves to hate; the quintessential English pub jukebox favourites whose self-defining singles of "square boogie" everyone — including those snobby musicians — will be tapping their feet and singing along with after a couple of pints of lager and lime. 'Tis a great pity they are unknown in the Americas, and, I fear, after their album hit only 19 in the British charts then plunged unceremoniously out, they're not doing too well on that side of the pond, either. Still, to be covered by Quo...I was pleasantly stunned.

Certainly, to stay with the soulboy on acid shtick would have worn thin, and I knew we were in danger of becoming obsolete pretty quick, so I was driven to come up with a different approach, an approach that luckily became "Sparks." And to answer the last part of your question regarding this stylistic leap, no one but myself could have come up with it (otherwise they'd be the songwriter, not me) and no one had any idea what I would deliver until I first played the songs to the band. The lucky accident — and most of this stuff is accidental — is that I hired Jack Nitzshe to produce the album and his simple "get the bands' egos out of the way and play the song" method worked quite well.

Everybody loves Tom. Saw him perform when his last record came out. Great show. Fun record, too.

The inspiration for "The Kid With The Butterfly Net" was a kid with a butterfly net.

I think my agency put my name in front of the Talkhouse folks when they were putting the word out about my current "Carp Fishing On Valium" tour. They passed, though. I seem to remember a pretty full house when I played there, so I'm not sure why they passed. Time of year, perhaps?
I write songs with a guitar in my hand, but they are a mix of conscious and sub-conscious, I suppose. And I write in binges, not on a daily basis; I think about writing on a daily basis, though. I agonize, analyze and otherwise beat myself up about it, which in itself may be a form of and a preparation to writing. It's a constant job, in a sense.

Your last question is daft, however.

Upstate is looking ready to go all colours of the rainbow as September moves toward October. (I've decided to answer your question that is not a question cos I don't have any answers to your questions that are questions. Or because those questions bore the bollocks off me, more accurately.) But, in the not too distant future a live record done by the King Biscuit Flower Hour will be released featuring a show from the Real Macaw Tour of '83. Next year some time, I'd guess. Of no interest to you, perhaps, but there you go.

Go to the tour page often, my friend.

Whenever someone points to a singer/songwriter and says that they sound like me or have copped some of my lyrical or vocal style I usually have no idea what they are talking about, leading me to suspect that most peoples' perception of what I'm really doing is slim, at best, and probably more likely, way off target.
All good songwriters "sample" other songwriters and when I feel myself doing it I usually know I must be doing something right, cos without a little help I'm just not good enough, like most other good songwriters.

Well my dear Pup, I can't say I agree with you on the guitar rock thing cos on my local "World Class Rock" station (they called it "alternative" for a few years but it didn't fly) I hear loads of guitar driven bands. Perhaps they lean toward the pop more than the rock 'n' roll side of things but this is preferable to me. I don't listen to stations that feature the Brittany's and the Backstreets cos that's obviously white pop middle of the road fluff and I can catch up on it in my dentist's office.

"Fickle" is right. Same with record companies and radio stations. These days, you get about one shot and that's your lot. Must be tough out there.

Napster is perfect. A great idea. Why would a young person want to waste money on a whole CD (an object worth far less than the going price anyway) of some new band that has a hit out right now when they know full well there's probably only that one tune, and perhaps one more, on the album that are worth bothering with? It's creating your own jukebox, and in this era when albums have now ceased to have cultural importance and soundbites are more relevant, Napster is only providing the right service at the right time. If I could be bothered with downloading and compiling (and could stomach the supposedly less than thrilling sound quality) and all the rest of it I'd be on there, pulling down Fastball's latest and Cracker's new one etc., etc. There's a ton of stuff I hear a few times or in some cases, a lot of times, on the radio that I'd like to check out more closely and getting the song thru Napster is just like sticking a mic in front of a radio (something I used to do often in my younger and more eager days) and taping a tune, but more convenient and efficient.
You know, I remember when I'd go to peoples' homes or squats or dope pads or whatever and you'd take an album or two and someone else would bring an album or two and so on, because music was the focal point of everyone's life then, and it was like, only one guy would own the latest Pink Floyd album and maybe someone else would have Van's latest and someone else would have the Stones' new one and that's how we shared music. Not everyone would spend the money on every album and often of course, with the advent of the cheap tape recorder, you'd tape your friends albums, cos an album was an expensive item, just like CDs are today — particularly for young people. Napster is merely the modern day equivalent and works well in an era of increasing isolation. (Do young people hang out together listening to music the way we did with vinyl? I'd presume not to the same extent.)

But if I find out anyone's ripping my stuff off I'll...I'll...I'll, I'll fucking kill 'em! I'll sue I tell you! (Now don't let me down, people: always with a little humour, grasshopper. Always with a little humour.)

Your questions have crossed the Parker transom on this site before, but I can't be bothered to go fishing for them right now (and why don't all of you read the entire section before penning a query? Do you have lives or something?), so I'll give you a briefy (sounds Australian, "briefy," doesn't it? — as in: "Sorry Sheila, don't 'ave time to give ya a full answer right now, please accept this briefy in the meantime.").

Regis and Kathy were a pleasure to work with. They gave me a lot of time and were most courteous and cordial. Plus, they had about 20 fucking zillion viewers at the time, paid well, supplied limos up to your ears, and one of the finest hotel suites I've ever fooled around in. What more is there, pray tell?

Current music? The media is of course ghastly, from the dullass singer/songwriters of radio's Triple A format to the whining dirge of the "alternative hits" stations, but as usual, there's some good people working here and there, mostly unformatable in today's stifling climate it must be said, but that's not their fault.
Someone turned me on to some lady named Shelby Lynn (not sure of spelling) the other day and I was quite amazed. She has a new record out that — on my admittedly cursory hearing — appears to defy gravity and soars above most anything around right now. I think the record is called "I am Shelby Lynn." I believe she had a run-in with those Nashville cats, hence the identity-affirming title. What I heard (and I think I caught a scrap of a tune today on FUV that sent shivers down my spine) in a brief car ride through ST. Louis recently (thanks Geoff Kessell) was quite awesome. I must buy a copy soon. I also like "Wonderful," a song by Everclear. Killer single (yes, I know the singer's whining about his childhood, but I go for the uplift of the melody and not the lyrics — lyrics are not as important to me as the dynamics of melody, perfomance and chord structure). Travis, from the bits I've heard, are really good, too. And I finally bought Fastball's album, the one with "The Way" on it. Like most people, I have to hear a tune on the radio a lot before it really digs in and I feel strongly enough to buy it, hence picking up Fastball's old record as a new one is coming out. (This means that if I wasn't Graham Parker I would probably not own a Graham Parker record.) And still, after a few years of play on my turntable, Tom Freund's stuff gets repeated listens. Go to Tomfreund.com and buy either "North American Long Weekend" or his latest, "Simpatico." One of the best writers operating today. Hey, there's stuff out there; it's not all bad.

MTV? Well, they're finally calling a spade a spade and being honest.

Actually, I'm not a full time anything and still divide my time somewhat, depending on the year. Tax laws? Beats me.
I would like to live in the UK permanently one day, though. Either that or the Caribbean. Apart from the weather, it's the same thing really — small potatoes.

Glad you enjoyed the book, as you state in your other comment down the page there.

In 1976 I was doing an interview with a Scandinavian reporter when he said to me: "Kevin Coyne says you are the only political songwriter working right now." I took this to be a compliment, as when I was younger and more naïve I did think that "Don't Ask Me Questions" and "Back To Schooldays" were actually songs about societal and educational oppression and how I was now mentally free of those odious strictures. What a prat I was!
Anyway, I have not heard a lot of Coyne. His stuff was way below radio radar, but I did like that tune with a girls name in it that got played at least 3 times way back when. "Darlene" was it? "Marlene"? Something like that.

As for soccer, American sports seem to be designed with advertising in mind. I mean, those basketball players look plenty fit to me. Why do they keep having times outs? Baseball action seems to happen in dribs and drabs — plenty time to cut to some "important messages." And football...it seems to take about 5 hours to get a game done that ought to take an hour and a half (come to think of it, cricket should be perfect for American TV!). It's all about TV ads.
I think though, that the impact of the US hosting the World Cup a few years back and the American women winning their World Cup last time out is gradually having an effect. And I can feel the difference in the amount of people playing and in the amount of indoor and outdoor leagues we have up here now; compared with when I started playing around '94, it's really much more popular. And I just played tennis this very day on the courts at the local school and noticed a football game going on in one field and a soccer game going on in the other. The crowd of parents and onlookers at the soccer game dwarfed the crowd at the football game. Blew my mind, it did.
I think also that the Yanks' perception of the game has and continues to be deeply distorted. Someone told me that years back, some American sporting association — the educational board I presume — decided that soccer should be played as a non-contact sport for girls! Wow, did they get it wrong. This probably accounts for the high quality of women's soccer in the States, because they were playing it first and more often in this country. (Re. your point about the women's team member flashing her bra at the world, maybe she should try flashing her arse next time, see if that has any more effect.) In the UK, of course, women playing soccer has always been thought of as the most inappropriate and quite frankly stupid thing imaginable. Ignorance I suppose, when you look at it nowadays.

Oh, by the way, a Canadian fan and TV show host recently drove down from Toronto to film my team playing a league game up here and it can be seen on dkicks.on.ca — a "grassroots soccer" TV show called "Direct Kicks." I believe the segment about me is on episode 31. (Luckily, the guy came down on a day when we were playing the weakest team in the league and so the match was a bit of a doddle for us. A 5-1 win and me on film putting one in the net and a couple of demon lefty crosses to boot.) (note: "to boot" is English for "as well.")
Yes, I am now a soccer star on Canadian TV! What a life!

Christgau, you query? He should write for the English press, he'd certainly get a job in the NME or Sounds or MM with zero trouble (do these organs still exist?). A snotty fucker of the highest degree. He's the type who will pan a perfectly good record by Yours Truly or Hiatt or Costello or any other worthy writer doing a good job, then give —on the one hand — Madonna a great review, or, on the other hand, a brilliant write-up to some obscure African nose flute player whose record is nigh impossible for the general public to find. A complete reverse-hipness snob. I have the memory of an elephant when it comes to inaccuracies and he, in a feeble effort to slander "The Real Macaw," misquoted a line to prove his point. He claimed I was singing "I'm not exactly into humour" when of course I was singing "I'm not exactly in the humour" — a very different thing. He used this sloppy journalism to slight me and the record. What a prat. Also, he said something like: "A guy this angry should not make a record this soft" in reference to "The Mona Lisa's Sister," and dismissed the record accordingly. Basically, I could make a stone classic and he is gonna pan it (or ignore it) out of hand. He writes reviews entirely for effect, not to support, honour or enlighten. Cranky, you say? The man is a rotter, let's face it, and a disservice to the industry

Oh, bollocks, to your second question.

1) The critic I refer to above (not my idea to give him space, of course, but if I am baited...) exemplifies pratdom.

2) I dunno, I don't look for that kind of thing, as a rule. A promoter would have to get that idea and make an offer. It's a good idea, but not mine.

I'd go to alienscalpel.com for the real skinny on what's happening.
You might also try pibburns.com/cryptozo.htm
Music sites? I wouldn't know about that.

Um...........

Right, check to tour page regarding Boston.

1) You and your friend are clever little monkeys, Greg. It's been a long time, and it's hard for me to get enthused about an answer concerning something I wrote so long ago (why does it seem like eons?), but I think your pal has grasped the symbolism firmly enough. I'm not sure about your use of the word "veiled" though. Seems almost heavy-handed and obvious now, with ten years in between. (By the way, surely "marital bliss" is an oxymoron? (ah, the fun of wordplay!))

2)

a) Brute youth.

b) Rather poor steal of the title of an Eldridge Cleaver book. More brutal angst, but aimless.

c) Horrible song

d) Paranoia in suburbia. Right on.

e) "Hands her a tissue, he's already used" — marvelous stuff.

f) Extremely clever timing shit in the verses. Lyrics are a bit of a bluff. Interesting, though.

g) "Oh, Reggie, you are a one!"

h) Killer. Written with Dusty in mind knowing full well she'd never even hear it and now she's dead.

i) Can't say it's too deep, but sinuous and the chord changes are boss.

3) I dunno, I found it all rather earnest and humourless. And I was already too old to be impressed with that gang shit — the leather jackets and all. And calling an album Sandinista! is wince-inducing to the utmost. It's like me calling my next album Zapatista! Bah!

4) Um...whatever. Can't be bothered to go into it. Respect for your opinion, however.

There were two drummers: Dave Charles and Terry Williams (Dire Straits, Rockpile). Phil Chen (Rod Stewart) played bass. The Miami Horns played horns. And damned if I can remember the keyboard player's name.

Go to the tour page; the book tour is under way, sporadically.

Our egos are so massive that we cannot face being mediocre.

Certainly hope your 16 year old makes it to one of my shows, but please, not the "Carp Fishing On Valium" book tour currently underway; it is a "Restricted" show and contains much foul language.

Patti Smith? I don't get it.
The other names you mention are only vaguely familiar to me.