| When
he quit his job as bassist in Public Image Ltd., he asked via press
release not to make any fuss about this decision: after all there were
more than enough youths on the dole to which the media should turn their
attention to. Simultaneously, Jah Wobble, the actual first name is John,
rushed out one and a half albums, to join the creative company Wobble/Czukay
UNlimited soon after.
"Don't you eat these
potatos any more?" - "No, I'm stuffed." - when I turn
around again the three bits are gone. Wolfed down by a stomach sick
guy who has consumed considerable amounts of wine since yesterday evening
and has set up a record in scrounging cigarettes.
The stomach sick guy is
called Jah Wobble and doesn't spend money on cigarettes by principle.
And now he wants "an ice cream such as Holger's." Which means
an outsized portion enough to serve as dessert for five people.
When it's in good form the
affected stomach seems to have a similar capacity as the former PIL
bassist's creative potential. Wobble took advantage from the inertia
of Public Image Ltd. by recording and producing the LP 'Betrayal' and
the 38 minutes-long EP 'Blueberry Hill' in record time. "The studio
was booked but nobody went in. I couldn't understand that at all, so
I worked in there."
The rest of the band couldn't
cope with such a rushed way of working. With the release of 'Flowers
Of Romance' it became apparant that Wobble's spontaneity had endowed
them with an enjoyable supply of vitality. Without Wobble's creative
influence John Lydon's neurotic sensibility let the sound of PIL often
ematiate to a skeleton. John Jah Wobble is of a high-spirited mind.
Sensible (the stomach), gutsy, humorous and extremely diplomatic, even
when somebody gets totally on his nerves. He may just start to tell
Irish jokes then...
"John Lydon always was
green with envy for that. He couldn't understand how I was able to deal
with such kinds of situations." At first he wasn't keen on commenting
his split with PIL too much, but sitting under Holger Czukay's magic
tree at the Lake Aachener Weiher in Cologne with so many good vibrations,
he lets slip the one or the other remark. Perhaps it's just the red
wine. "If you hand it over before we start the interview I will
certainly tell you more. When I'm drunk I always say things I'd kept
for myself otherwise", he challenges me in the car. But as soon
as we're having coffee (when will we begin with the damned interview
?) he relaxes.
While drinking unhealthy
quantities of cappuccino he tells us how he narrowly escaped a stomach
operation. Now he swallows some chemicals while puffing away on scrounged
cigarettes and listens with interest to my lecture on relaxing breathing
exercises. We both agree a few Far Eastern wisdoms would be of considerable
help, but who can summon up the necessary discipline with all the stimulus
satiation? The only man we know is Holger Czukay. His working ethos
impressed Jah Wobble immensly from the start. On the other side he's
quite good at arousing his mentor.
Holger had got in touch after
the release of 'Metal Box', the second PIL album. After initial interest
John Lydon retired into his mousehole, so a first meeting with Jah Wobble
took place. "We met at the flat of Angus MacKinnon, an English
journalist. John came in with a six pack of lager and opened two cans.
Oh dear, I thought, I don't like beer... but we started to talk, and
soon the beer cans were left untouched."
The two were made for each
other. Both of them musical spontaneity fanatics who use everything
in the studio available. After doing a session to check each other out
at a tiny reggae studio in Soho they were unstoppable. Holger got enormous
kicks out of it, and John had to be dampened now and then. Wobble came
down to Cologne to work on the now widely mentioned EP at Can's studio
with Czukay and drummer Jaki Liebezeit.
At various points the drumming
aesthete, now engaged in The Phantom Band, had real problems with the
unconventional style of bulldozing Wobble. During the recording of the
track 'Trench warfare' John got a taste of his partner's severe hand.
Early in the morning around 5 am he began to pester. They were both
sitting in a club listening to old ska records, and he suddenly wanted
to go into the studio. But Holger was tired. John: "Come on now,
you have to be a little crazy sometimes." And Holger: "All
rigt then, but if you don't come up with something worthwhile you'll
be very sorry!"
In the studio he suggested
Holger should play the bass part, while attempting to sit down behind
the drum kit, it seemed he didn't like Jaki's contribution somehow.
But this resulted in a sermon: "It is a total lack of respect to
sit behind Jaki's drums while he's asleep upstairs. We better talk with
Jaki tomorrow to find out what he intended." When Wobble's going
strong he creates a lot of fuss. "We used the take in the end,"
remembers Holger, "and suddenly John ran through the studio brandishing
an iron bar..."
"May I have another
cigarette, love?" The packets empties rapidly while he talks about
his philosophy. His answer to the obvious question whether he considers
himself as a musician is "No." The overall idea of course
is that somebody who isn't capable of playing his instrument in the
conventional way can be much more musical (as more creative) in the
end. Running around in the studio with an iron bar can be helpful in
this respect...
I
ask him of his opinion on the theory that the future does not lie in
outer space but in the primitive. Repressed rituals seem to become enormously
attractive as more and more musicians succumb to the magic of tribal
rhythms, and Siouxsie and The Banshees got their dedicated fans hypnotically
ecstatic with their recent 'Juju' LP. John has an amazingly practical
view on it: the secret is simplicity. Megalomaniac machinery has always
been harmful to the music. The more reduced your work, the more intense
the outcome might be.
He shares a lot of points
of view with Holger Czukay. On the one hand it's because he likes to
follow spontaneous intuitions rather than a set pattern. On the other
hand he loves to be inspired and therefore has learned a lot. For example
you can get a lot more impact out of a recording made on a creative
high by severe cutting and erasing parts of tracks. His voice serves
merely as an additional sound. He does his own lyrics, but they don't
have a message because they are too steeped in his private thoughts.
"I don't think you can
fully understand them anyway." And so the vocals (he doesn't see
it as singing) can be treated with cuts too. "I love it when fragments
of voices float in from the outside," he says. An effect from the
much praised EP which sometimes caused the sound to arch like the grid
on a radar display. By the way, not aesthetics but rather a heavy broadside
is delivered by Jah Wobble's new band The Human Condition. At the drums
is another ex-PIL musician, Jim Walker. Their guitarist is simply called
'Animal', it's his name and it's his nature. Wobble vaguely promised
a few planned gigs over here this autumn, if they are going to happen
wasn't confirmed yet by deadline.
But in the meantime he has
been back in Cologne on several occasions to record first basic tracks
with Holger Czukay and Jaki Liebezeit for some new projects. I could
only find out that it all sounds "quite unusual" so far. If
you remember the promising foundation (four tracks on the EP, one track
on Holger Czukay's 'On The Way To The Peak Of Normal', an elegantly
understated mixture of discreet reggae and funk elements in stereophonic
richness) you have to wonder how to top it. But in the moment this is
just another story, just like Phew.
Jah Wobble was taken with
a single, lying around unnoticed at the office of his English record
company Virgin. It was a production featuring the Japanese singer Phew.
He took it with him to Cologne and forced an open door. Studiomeister
Conny Planck, Holger Czukay and Jaki Liebezeit stripped the musical
concept of the avant-garde Japanese down to a naked minimum to create
sufficient space for the brittle capacity of her voice. During our meeting
in Cologne Jah Wobble, just as the musicians involved, enthuses about
the charisma of this modern chansonette, who was nearly stripped bare
to her soul in the studio. Everybody
waited eagerly for a reaction from Japan, the finished production having
been submitted long ago.
Latest news: a "revised"
(= presumably ruined) version arrived in London... |