Black Crowes Interview
Vox
July, 1993
| You take a bumfuck town in
America or Canada versus a small town in Europe, and there will always be a lot more going on in Europe," declares Rich Robinson, The Black Crowes' guitarist. "I mean, take a look at this place. It's insane!" The Black Crowes have just spent two days in Thunder Bay, a small, culturally-bereft town in Canada's Mid- West, where the winter ice has yet to melt into spring, and local action is restricted to one decent bar, a bowling alley, a few coffee shops and a very occasional visit from a rock band. The emphasis is definitely on 'occasional', as singer Chris Robinson, his actress girlfriend, Lala, and bassist Johnny Colt discover when they decide to spend an evening at the cinema. The promised 'Movie Theatre' turns out to be a tiny room with a screen not much bigger than a TV. set and, not surprisingly, the gathered crowd find Chris (garbed in his usual brand of '60s and '70s rock chic), Lala (tall, blonde and definitely NOT from the Mid- West) and Johnny (dark and foreboding beneath his trademark Stetson) much more interesting than the advertised feature. Unable to ignore the burning stares, the trio exchange horrified glances, then turn and flee. The following night, in front of 3,000 kids in the town's Fort William Gardens, Chris Robinson serves up the kind of remedy he's prescribed to the citizens of Bumfuckvilles the world over. "We've got this thing we wanna give you," he roars. "We like to call it a musical lubricant-- y'know, so you can ease yourself on into the evening. That's what this is man, a piece of music that represents a lubricant. I hope you dig it!" As The Black Crowes kick into the ten-minute intro to 'Thorn In My Pride', it's obvious that Chris Robinson is thinking of a very different kind of Coverdale might have recommended when Whitesnake released Slide It In during 1984. Where Robinson is being metaphorical, Coverdale was just being a hoary old rocker, but the Whitesnake frontman (who released his record in the same year that 18- year-old Chris and his 15-year-old brother played their first gig as Mr Crowe's Garden) provides a good example of how far a singer can veer away from the blues. By the time the Robinsons had finalised their line- up and evolved into The Black Crowes in 1986, Coverdale had become the kind of bleached-blond MTV bimbo the Crowes wanted to destroy For them, The Black Crowes wouldn't be just another band, it would be a way of life. The Crowes proved that they had the looks, the attitude and the music to set them apart from almost everyone else, when they released their triple-platinum debut LP, Shake Your Money Maker, in March 1990. They were quickly hailed as the hottest rock band bar Guns N' Roses; like the Gunners, the Crowes seemed to have complete faith in the power of rock'n'roll, and in Chris Robinson they had a frontman who not only spoke his mind but also acted it out: railing against corporate sponsor- ship (getting the band thrown off the ZZ Top tour in the process); publicly mourning "the death of rock'n'roll" by flying the band's flag at half mast over Tower Records on Sunset Boulevard; and playing the Atlanta Pot Festival in front of 60,000 people. Chris also had the keen sense of timing to open the Crowes' second LP, The Southern Harmony And Musical Companion, with the line: "If you feel like a riot, then don't you deny it"--a full five months before the conclusion of the Rodney King trial and the album's release in May '92. "There's a lot of sexual connotations in that song," says Chris of the opening number, 'Sting Me', "but no one ever realised that the line 'What's a wasp without her sting?' is basically a stab at every waspy--white, Anglo- Saxon Protestant kind of person--and it was kind of weird what happened afterwards." The Black Crowes recently nick- named their merchandiser Kevin Wegman 'Rodney', after he and security chief Raol Flores ran into trouble with two undercover narcotics officers, who came back- stage during the band's show in Louisville, Kentucky The Crowes were only one song into their set when they noticed the scuffle at the side of the stage, but they walked off and did not return. The band claim that the police initiated the attack, but Flores and Wegman were charged with assault and resisting arrest. Although The Black Crowes have frequently praised the use of marijuana, they aren't famous for the kind of wild, reckless behaviour which characterised the careers of their early heroes The Rolling Stones (in the '60s) and Aerosmith that rock'n'roll doesn't have to be real bad in order to be good. "The way I see it," opines Rich, "is if you have to talk about it then you're really not doing it. The only people who have to prove that they do drugs are the ones who see it as an angle: 'Oh, the rebellion thing, the sex, drugs thing--that's great! It worked for Guns N' Roses, let's run that angle.' I mean, it's pretty predictable." Rather than talking about the peripheral aspects of rock'n'roll, the Robinson brothers tend to focus solely on music. This sometimes has the effect of making them sound overbearing and arrogant, but there is no denying that their stance and attitude is 4 Real. "The Manic Street Preachers opened for us in Rotterdam," says Chris, sadly. "I saw them put on all their rock clothes and go onstage, and then they came off and they were all wearing sweat-shirts and playing video games!". With the Crowes, even their tour bus has taken on their style (it's decked out in Indian- print sheets, ornate hippy decor, photographs of Bob Dylan and Syd Barrett and a poster of The Grateful Dead) and their stage set is lit by hundreds of multi-coloured light bulbs which suggest that it's Christmas all year round and that The Black Crowes are a 'happening' rather than just another show. Since former Burning Tree guitarist Marc Ford replaced Jeff Cease last year, The Black Crowes have been much more willing to improvise and experiment. Rich Robinson changes his guitar for almost every one of the 14 songs in the band's Thunder Bay set and, at 24, sounds like a seasoned muso when he says, quite seriously, that he only used 12 guitars tonight (he's got 30 of them back home in Atlanta). Robinson's guitar intertwines with Ford's throughout the which precedes "the musical lubricant of "Thorn in My Pride', which is the kind of free-flowing thing that you might more easily expect from The Grateful Dead. The Dead would probably be proud of the Crowes' backdrop (a huge marijuana leaf emblazoned with the legend 'Free Us--No Narcs'), and indeed also their laminated back- stage pass, which borrows the line 'LIVING IS A HORIZONTAL FALL' from Jean Cocteau's Opium Diaries. The Crowes' travelling party is currently a modest 27: the six musicians, an 18-strong crew, support trio The Magic Nose Goblins (who recently played alongside Izzy Stradlin as the Ju Hounds), plus Chris's pedigree bulldogs, Skunk and Doyle, who spend most of their time snuffling around looking for someone to slobber over. "I guess they don't have as many hang- ups as us humans," smiles Chris. After the Thunder Bay show, the dressing room has more of a youth-club vibe than a serious rock'n'roll party. A Lynyrd Skynyrd tape plays while the band partake of the rider, which consists of avocado dip and several dishes of M&Ms washed down by the usual nine bottles of vodka, Jack Daniel's, Red Eye and Barolo. The pinball machine is called 'Escape From The Lost World', which is pretty apt since The Black Crowes are frequently accused of step- ping straight out of the late '60s/early 70s. "The rock'n'roll bands that I like from that period only make up a minute part of my record collection," says Chris, "regardless of what some people think." Rod Stewart's recent comments suggest that he is one of those people. "The Faces were just a poor man's Rolling Stones when we started out. We'd never admit it, of course, just as The Black Crowes would never admit they copy us," said Rod. ;Graciously he added: "I like The Black Crowes, they've got it right. Bloke's a little arse hole, the singer, but he'll grow out of it." Chits, who's 26 now but not show- ing any signs of growing out of anything, thinks these comments are hilarious. "I think it's cool that he knows who I am, but if what Rod's turned not is not an ass hole, I will gladly be one," he laughs. "I also think it's funny that he said that they wanted to be minute, Rod, I would rather be The Rolling Stones than The Faces, too!" Rich, who only talks to journalists when his brother isn't around ("Unless you want the Chris interview"), isn't amused by Rod's comments. "It's kind of egotistical for Rod to just assume that he's this thing we cherish that much. I appreciate the music that certain people have written--and that's not just The Faces, it's every great band that I've listened to--but I couldn't give a shit about them singularly. I'm just not an idol guy." Where the elder Robinson seems open and witty, Rich comes across as defensive and serious. Ironically, the only time he cracks his face into a smile during the interview is when he's asked about ice-cream (Chris once told a journalist that Rich doesn't drink or do drugs, but devours ice-cream instead). "I remember that quote," he laughs. "Chris thought it would be funny if people started showing up at shows with ice-cream--which they did a couple of times. Because, of course (heavy sarcasm now), that's what I do: I just sit in my room and shove ice- cream down my throat. Normally, I have ten pints of Ben & Jerry's in the refrigerator and eat it all day--Ben & Jerry's make this one flavour called Cherry Garcia, which is like Jerry Garcia only with cherries and stuff, and they donate a lot of their proceeds to the rain forests." On one subject both brothers seem totally agreed: that rock'n'roll should be recognised as an art form. "Rock'n'roll music can really be a way for you to express yourself, just like any other medium," states Chris, "and should be taken as seriously. Not by losing its sense of humour, but I'd like it to be taken more seriously than as a way for people to get really rich and be on TV a lot. I mean, that's what game-show hosts do--it's not what I got into rock'n'roll for. I got into it to write songs and to have the band." There's no doubt in Chris's mind that The Black Crowes are the band. He has frequently said that he puts them "before everything- - before God, country, relationships, health n--and doesn't seem too bothered how the latter things have sometimes suffered (he collapsed with exhaustion in the summer of '91). "The Black Crowes are the biggest commitment I have in my life and the big- gest one I've ever made," he says. "All my relationships have been pretty unsuccessful thus far, but I'm getting into a new one (with Lala) so I'll have to be optimistic and say: 'Of course it will work'. It's weird, 'cos my mom is the one who gets all sad that Rich and I will never be married and have normal families!" The last time we interviewed The Black Crowes in VOX (issue 12), Chris said that ''LA feels evil n, and has often claimed that the City Of Angels has no soul, but the fact that it's his girlfriend's home town must have had at least some influence on his recent decision to buy a house there (n It's still evil," he smiles). He won't get the chance to move into their way through the summer festival season (which includes both Glastonbury and the new Phoenix event in Stratford- Upon-Avon during July), finally taking a break from the road in August. The Black Crowes have incorporated new songs like 'Nowhere Stair' and 'Title Song' into their set, but probably won't start on their third album until next February, and have no plans to tour again until 1995. However, as Chris concludes: "A whole year off the road? Us? No way!" |