Lydon & Levene:
NME, 14th March 1981
Transcribed (and additional info) by Karsten Roekens
© 1981 NME
Company
Lore & Public Disorder:
The PiL Memorandum
by Gavin Martin
While England goes down the plughole, the firm of Lydon, Levene and Lee set up to prove that enterprise is not dead. They press boldly ahead with their plans to redevelop the face of rock as we know and loathe it. Three years of power struggle with Virgin and international upheavals have kept them behind schedule, but soon - very soon - we should see the romance of PIL in full flower...
This is
just another day in London and the town is dirty, colourless and insidiously
threatening. The winter gloom turns into spring, but the metropolis remains
insular and stupefied. It's cold and overcast and the slow dizzy hum of
city life drags a cast of factory fodder, office workers (that's me),
tramps and delinquents into its monotony and anonymity. Walking up Ladbroke
Grove, the blank sullen faces and the sluggish pace of the passers-by
betray a weary sense of demoralization. They say adversity brings out
the best in the, er, British, but in the present climate of blanket oppression,
surrender and acceptance seem the easy and most popular options. And with
an ascetic government policy of mass unemployment, strict cash controls
and the renewed interests in nationalism and defence, there's a recipe
for disaster compounded by the illusion of a 'solution'.
Of course, solutions don't provide a way out of the problem, they are
of necessity part of the problem, more correctly seen as little cubby
holes with opaque windows. Here people can find solace away from the ruthless
disunity. They can take the dramatic and romantic appeal of the gun, the
false security of the bomb, or the patriotism to a country that gives
more to its life takers than its life givers... It's not hard to see how
things are going.
"This whole country is like sinking into the ocean. It's reached
the stage where Britain will soon be getting sent food parcels. London's
getting very, very fascist and I don't like it at all!"
John Lydon lights another Marlboro and continues to enunciate a slow but
defiant train of thoughts, this time taunting me with direct information,
his piercing bug-eyed stare fixes on a TV set. "'Go back' was written
about that, about London and tedium and right-wing groups. It's pathetic,
people wallow in misery and accept anything. Have a cup of tea, good days
ahead."
he concludes, before returning to a recently discovered brand of choice
beer.
It's the only time Lydon inserts one of his own lyrics into our conversation,
and of course he does it because it's a cruelly apt piece of humour, a
sharp way of underlining his point and exposing the dearth of imagination
and apathy strewn around him. At times like this John can appear to be
smug, but it's his honesty that stuns.
I regain foothold and fumble another question. Do you hold any sympathy
for kids who get involved in fascist groups?
"I don't mind people having views like that, if they know what they're
talking about. But the promotion of ignorance and the glorification of
stupidity is something I just can not deal with. They like to be downtrodden
and they like to think they're left out of everywhere. It's so sad-sect-two-bob-loser-city.
That's all they're told by the daily papers, and of course they believe
it because the papers don't lie. There's precious fuck-all that I or anybody
in my position could do to stop them."
I hate mob rule as much as Lydon, but his tolerance for individuals who
would actively destroy individualism and literally dispose of dissenters
is a hefty contradiction, which is contributing to the lack of external
growth of his company Public Image Ltd., where much is made of freedom
and independent control, but few of the benefits one expects of such qualities
have been forthcoming.
Rock music, the feeble sickness that it undoubtedly is, loudly plasters
itself with stifling prejudices, dangerously evocative imagery and creates
cold callous boxes for its product, keeping in line with society's conservatism.
So, not only do you have a musical mainstream consisting of a queasy,
uninterrupted flow of blandness and conceited posturing, but on the pretext
of some flimsy cloak of tribalism, each box seeks your support.
Take your pick from Adam's flatulent warrior pose, heavy metal's valium-fuelled
sexism, or Spandau Ballet's barely concealed fascism (check the sleeve
notes on 'Journey To Glory'). And on and on it goes, a sick meaningless
merry-go-round of degradation, fashion and pawn pushing. Nothing has changed,
in fact things have got worse than ever. Ah well, you can rely on rock
music to provide a true reflection of the times.
Now it would be a fool or an evangelist to ask or expect John Lydon to
swoop down on the masses and show them the error of their ways. He's already
tried that once, as he repeatedly tells me - people took the wrong things
from his Sex Pistols days and ended up with the present confusion of aims
and aspirations, causes and effects. Besides, right from the outset it
was made clear that Public Image Ltd. would continue to move forward,
regardless of pressures and circumstances.
It's always been stressed that PIL are a company, and as such free to
move into other areas apart from music - drawing, video discs, film making
and designing various pieces of equipment with the knowledge acquired
from experimenting in the studio. All of which sounds fine, but some three
years after their inception these other ideas still only exist in theory.
PIL are yet to move into market places other than those which are the
immediate preserve of rock music. And this makes Keith Levene's contention
that PIL are a communications company which has more in common with Warner
Brothers than, say, the Gang Of Four, seem like a lot of hot air.
But despite their weaknesses, and I'd say they're more marked than they
would care to admit,
PIL remain the most innovative and exciting noise makers in Britain. That's
a fact indelibly stamped certainly on anyone with two clean ears who has
had the privilege to hear their fourth album, 'Flowers Of Romance'. And
it's a pleasure not as rare as one might expect if Lydon's claims of a
Virgin tape leak earlier this year are true.
Originally comprising of a nucleus of five members, PIL have arrived at
their present 'perfected chemistry' of John, Keith and Jeanette Lee, following
the dismissal of long time backroom member Dave Crowe six months ago for
'doing nothing', and the departure of Jah Wobble after Chris Bohn's interview
with Keith Levene (NME July 5, 1980). In that article it was made clear
that Wobble was rapidly losing favour within the set-up. When the subject
is now broached, John remains unruffled.
"Not only did Wobble use PIL backing tracks for his own solo albums,
which are terrible, but he also got into this whole condescending attitude
of 'playing for the kids'. It was against everything we started out to
be. We used to be really good friends but I haven't seen him for months.
He seems to be keeping himself hidden, but that's his prerogative. Look,
this is a fact, Wobble was never present at one of our mixes, he just
played his bars and left the studio before the real work began."
I tell him that Wobble's new band is presently rehearsing and Lydon admits
he is very interested in hearing what they sound like.
"Whatever else there is about him, Wobble is a very, very good bass
player."
Although John, Jeanette and Keith knew each other during the original
punk era - Miss Lee was a shop assistant in Acme Attractions, where she
would give Sid Vicious discounts - there was no thought of forming a band.
"Moronic as Steve, Paul, Glen and Sid all were, there was absolutely
no thought of walking out and getting it together with people of a higher
intellect," John explains. "Firstly Jeanette had no interest
whatsoever in being involved in a band, and secondly there was all sorts
of personal bickering going on. It might seem like the most obvious thing
to do, but it's the hardest to work with friends. It's something that
just happens, you can't plan it or want it, it just works that way. Eventually
kindred spirits will flock together. Does that sound terrible? It's the
only way I can put it."
In the studio at least, the PIL triumvirate appears to be an effective
and well-balanced entity, with each person bringing characteristics to
the set-up that compliment and contrast successfully with those of the
others. Johnny is still the court jester possessed of an invaluable honest
cynicism. Jeanette has a practical efficiency and a wily way of assimilating
the significance of the factors and people who influence PIL's movement.
'Flowers Of Romance' is the first LP on which she plays an instrument,
although this is not to underestimate her role on previous works.
"I am always present at studio mixes, and just the fact that I'm
there means I'm contributing to the clash of personalities," she
explains, slapping her hands together for emphasis. Her role is often
said by others to be that of a manageress, but she openly scorns such
a description. "There is no band, there are no rules and there are
no managers," she states.
Lydon is curt and adamant: "Whoever is available will do whatever
is necessary."
It was Levene who was originally responsible for putting PIL into motion.
Following the Pistols split he saw Lydon on TV telling everybody that
he had a new band together, but instinct told the primitive technical
coordinator that Johnny was lying, and he phoned him to put plans for
PIL into operations. Levene is sad and serious faced, a precise theorist
searching for purpose and precision amidst a maze of organisational and
financial obstacles. His technical interests and early determination to
abandon orthodox studio sound have fired the other members with a similar
desire, resulting in 'Flowers Of Romance', which sees them hurtling headlong
into previously untested territory.
We meet one chilly afternoon to discuss the new album and the shape of
PIL in general in Jeanette's third floor West London flat. The living
room is eye-level with a schoolroom where various youths spy and giggle
at the proceedings. Present at various times throughout my six hour stay
are all three members of PIL, but with the small, fragile and charming
Jeanette suffering from a nagging toothache, and Levene not in the mood
for talking and otherwise engaged in company business, most of the exchanges
are made between John and myself.
Lydon seems to prefer a stumbled, fragmented conversation, whereas Levene
when he joins in sounds like a well-drilled PR rapping machine.
The LP was finished last December, recorded in three weeks during November
[1]. But PIL have encountered the most ludicrous opposition from Virgin
Records, who claim that the record is so uncommercial that they should
re-release the group's 'Public Image' debut single to stimulate interest
in it.
"They said, oh it's not commercial, it won't sell," John alleges
in his best Chelsea arts critic whine.
Keith: "No, Virgin don't say that."
John: "They don't now, but they did when we gave it to them. They
only wanted to press thirty thousand."
Absolute insanity! It's the best thing, the most accessible thing you've
ever recorded, I say.
John: "It's like at Virgin there's a few people there who have their
brains somewhere in their feet. One in particular is Laurie Dunn (head
of Virgin Publishing), who has a lot of influence for no particular reason.
He thinks PIL have never made a good record, and people like Simon Draper
listen to that sort of crap."
Keith: "But he found it offensive that Dunn said that, he told me."
John: "Only after The Slits went in the same studio, using the same
engineer, trying to get the same sound." [2]
With your contract coming up for renewal are you thinking of leaving Virgin
then?
Keith: "No, I'm thinking of ways to work with Virgin and to get Virgin
to work for us. I'm always trying to find ways of doing that, because
Virgin have got a large corporation thing going in this country. They've
got one of everything so far: they've got their venue, they've got their
house in the country, they've got their Manor house and their barges,
and each one of these has a studio. They've also got their independent
cinema, their publishing company and their foreign investments, and now
they're establishing themselves in the States. I don't see why Virgin
shouldn't be a very worthwhile company to be involved in, I mean PIL certainly
is.
But there seems to be a clash of ambitions and the clash isn't PIL's fault.
Virgin started off on the right foot, but soon forgot what they were doing
and developed fat necks. It's simple, we can see into the future and they
can't. I keep telling them that PIL will release an album that's going
to sell millions and they're going to have to print up lots of copies
of the other albums, but they won't listen. Virgin used to be able to
see into the future, or rather they used to take a chance on the biggest
load of shit and invest in it. Now they just have their pet loves The
Slits. But PIL were around a long time before bands like that."
John: "XTC are the latest favourites. But just because I moan and
grumble about Virgin doesn't mean I don't want to work with them. In fact,
because I moan and grumble I can see room for improvement."
A venture that seemed to give PIL breathing space and a focus for their
other talents was a chance to work on a film with 'Woodstock' director
Michael Wadleigh.
John: "They offered us the chance to do a soundtrack. I mean, who
wouldn't want an opportunity like that? It's not 'Woodstock', it's not.
The clips we saw were really excellent, it looked like it could have been
a really good film, but as far as I know they've stopped production on
it totally. [3] Originally Wadleigh wanted us to write music to suit the
atmosphere, it's about wolves and killing people, and that suited us fine
of course."
Keith: "Yeah, our next album is called 'Music For Prisons'. Tell
him how we've got it worked out on an ambient scale and -"
"Fuck off!" John laughs.
"No, I think a lot of soundtracks are really vile and I think films
are being done a disservice. I think we could do a service to a film.
Like with this Michael Wadleigh thing, we wanted to go right down to a
bottle banging on the table - the whole lot, not just the music but sounds.
But then Tom Waits [4] and other people came into it, and it wasn't what
we had in mind, so there's many confusing factors, none of which is on
our part. They wanted us to ask for a certain amount of money, and I think
that's, well, prattish, they should make us an offer. But
they insisted, so I said 'a million would do quite nicely, thank you'.
I haven't heard from them since."
Levene will happily talk at length about two other pet projects, a drum
synthesizer and a portable recording studio which, designed using microchips,
can fit into a briefcase. But gradually he begins to sound like a science
boff in junior school with a lot of plausible ideas but no way of actually
producing or marketing them.
Typically, Lydon gives a succinct overview of the problem. "They
have the finance but no ideas. We have the ideas but no finance. That's
where the arguments begin and end."
Of course! But that doesn't mean PIL are unique in their problem, it's
something all groups wishing to utilize the channels created by a new
challenging medium have to face. Until PIL accept this and begin to put
efficiency rather than spontaneity at the forefront of their business
dealings, then they're certainly not going to realize their aims.
Levene admits to sloth on PIL's part, but refuses to accept that this
is the only reason for their inactivity.
"We're lazy, but we've got enough discipline to know when to work
and when not to work. The things we have in mind are mainly restricted
to basic company set-ups, record companies and production companies. The
way round is to make PIL the Company, but it's a company that doesn't
exist because you need a massive cash injection to give it a boost. We
need people to invest in us on a contract basis, which Virgin are doing
in terms of music in Britain, as are Nippon Columbia in Japan and Warners
in America. We've suggested our ideas to all three companies, and all
the problems that amounted were the same: 'We can't do that. It won't
sell. There's no market for this, there's no market for that.' The market
probably won't exist for another seven years, and they're waiting until
the market exists instead of inventing one."
PIL now adamantly refuse to be drawn into the circus of live performing.
"You ask, do I care who our audience is?" Levene says. "I
sometimes wonder if our audience cares who the band is, if they know what
we're there for."
John: "There's nothing wrong with playing a live gig, but there's
a lot wrong with doing a tour, because if you're singing and performing
the same songs every night in different cities up and down the universe
a video would be much more honest."
*Transcript incomplete*
Notes:[1] The album was actually recorded in three weeks from mid-October to early November 1980, with a session added in early December to do the single remix of the track 'Flowers of romance'
[2] Nick Launay co-produced three tracks on The Slits' final album 'Return Of The Giant Slits'
[3] Wrong, the film had actually its premiere a few months later (24.7.1981)
[4] Tom Waits made a cameo appearance in the film, singing one of his songs. The soundtrack was finally done by James Horner. There was no soundtrack album.
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