Ian Hunter
Getting It All Down
»
 |
He’s about to embark on a two-country summer tour in support of his first album in more than six years and he already wishes he were back in the studio.
“Anything new, I always love anything new,” he says.
Shrunken Heads, perhaps his loosest and, ironically, most cohesive record since 1989’s YUI ORTA, hadn’t even hit the streets yet and Hunter, on a wet, cold night in April, would rather be tweaking the new material that is coming into his head at an alarming pace.
“Yeah, it is weird,” he says. Even Hunter is surprised by how quickly the new songs are coming. “But having said that, [Shrunken Heads] seems to be, ‘so far so good,’ so we’ve got to work this one until the work is over. At least I’ve got a good start for the next record.”
It is not surprising that Hunter is so matter-of-fact and understated about Shrunken Heads, his new album on Raleigh, N.C.-based Yep Roc Records and his first since 2001’s Rant. After all this a veteran singer/songwriter with experiences wide and diverse. Case in point: As the leader of semi-legendary glam rock outfit Mott the Hoople, he fronted the first rock band to play Broadway. He’s also the benefactor of major royalty payments, thanks to mid-90s sitcom “The Drew Carey Show,” which used one of Hunter’s solo tracks as its theme song (“Cleveland Rocks,” from 1979’s You’re Never Alone with a Schizophrenic). His first major hit, Mott’s “All the Young Dudes” in 1972, was produced by David Bowie, before Bowie became Ziggy. Hunter then teamed up with Bowie’s celebrated guitarist Mick Ronson in mid-70s for a nearly 20-year partnership that resulted in some of both musicians’ finest work; a partnership that was tragically cut short when Ronson succumbed to cancer in 1993.
So there’s not much that Hunter hasn’t seen or experienced since he joined Mott in 1969, and it is no wonder that he’d rather hole up in the recording studio cutting new tracks with his band. Indeed, new songs are coming at a much more frenetic pace than usual that you can hear the frustration in his voice that he’s got to stop and hit the road.
“I’ve been in the factory for 38 year years, professionally, so I just do what I do,” Hunter said. “I’m not particularly interested, to tell you the truth. I used to be a fanatic while I was young, but now the buzz for me is writing new things and playing with the band. Traveling and all that other stuff is a pain in the ass, quite frankly.”
But for his fans, the cult-like crew that follow Hunter’s every move, these tours and new records are almost a salvation. It is not unusual for a Hunter show to be filled with people who have traveled hundreds or thousands of miles--or even crossed both sides of the Atlantic--to attend. And while his concerts may not generate the same revenues that some of his contemporaries like, say, the Rolling Stones, might bring in, you can rest assured that everyone at an Ian Hunter show has, and loves, his new record.
And why not? Hunter may not be the most prolific writer, but he is, hands down, one of the best. After a few chart toppers in the early 70s with Mott the Hoople and an always interesting, but not always financially enriching, solo career through the late 80s, Hunter took a “less is more” approach to songwriting after Ronson’s death in 1993.
From 1996 through 2007, Hunter released three albums, starting with The Artful Dodger, followed by Rant, and now Shrunken Heads. The Artful Dodger is a bit chaotic, as if Hunter was not quite sure whether he wanted to be a full-time balladeer or rock out. Rant is different, perhaps his most dramatic and complicated solo album. His most Mott-esque, for lack of a better word. Rant, an exhausting but compelling listen, takes on the decay of post-Churchill England with biting success, but writing, producing, and supporting the album, which resulted in an almost nonstop three-year jaunt across the Northeastern U.S., England, and parts of Europe, took its tool.
After taking some much-needed time off, Hunter started writing again and, with chief collaborator and guitarist Andy York, started gathering his bandmates and booking studio time. With a band full of musicians with other obligations and projects, Hunter knew he had a limited timeframe to schedule studio time. So he started writing for Shrunken Heads knowing he’d have a small window gather everyone together, which instead of creating a strained and rushed album, the resulting record sounds as loose, relaxed, and fun as anything he’s ever recorded.
“Rant took awhile [to record], and this was in and out [of the studio] in four or five days,” Hunter said. “We did some overdubbing later, but the full band, we did 16 tracks in four days.”
To counter the rushed pace, Hunter said he recorded the album at different intervals and didn’t always walk in with finished material, preferring to let the band figure it out as they went. This resulted in a fresh sound that not only kept his musicians on their toes, but brought out some of their best performances.
“All we did was we had a couple guys in the band at odd times, because we didn’t want them to know exactly what they were going to do,” he said. “We wanted to be right on the cusp of thinking they knew what they were going to do. And it worked the trick because this stuff is fresh, especially the drumming. [Drummer Steve Holley]’s very happy, probably the happiest he’s ever been because he did it on instinct. We didn’t grind it into the ground.”
This looseness is felt right from the start, as Shrunken Heads sort of rolls into the slow, groovy “Words (Big Mouth),” before moving effortlessly into more straightforward Hunter rockers like “Fuss About Nothing” and “Brainwashed.”
A few songs are downright strange, notably the jam-session feel of “How’s Your House” and the chaotic “Stretch.” These two benefited the most from the free-wheeling studio time, as even Hunter didn’t know how’d the turn out.
“I really didn’t think ‘How’s Your House’ was going to go anywhere,” Hunter admitted. “I really didn’t think ‘I Am What I Hated When I Was Young” was going to go anywhere, but they sort of got the banjos out and, you know…
“The only weird one was “Stretch,” which started off absolutely frightening and then for some reason we just couldn’t get it done.”
Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy lends his familiar raspy voice to the opening track and a few others, “Fuss About Nothing” and “Guiding Light.” It’s a voice that feels right at home but also, oddly, stands out from the others. Tweedy makes no secret of his respect and appreciation for Hunter’s music. During live shows, Wilco frequently performs Mott’s lost “Henry and the H-Bomb,” an incomplete b-side that found its way onto one of the many “Best of” collections over the past 20 years.
“I like Jeff, I like his voice,” Hunter says. “There’s a great vulnerability in his voice, I wish I had that. There’s few and far between of people I like, so it was great to hang out with him and have a chat.”
Tweedy’s pieces were recorded fairly quickly in Chicago at The Loft, Wilco’s recording and rehearsing studio. Because of Tweedy’s touring commitments, the two didn’t have much time to spend in the studio, but their pairing makes one of the most compelling in recent memory.
“It was great, you know. He said, ‘I”ll sound a bit crap at first, but I’ll get the hang of it, and then it’ll get good’,” Hunter said. “And it did… He knows Barack Obama, I was finding out all kinds of stuff that I wanted to know. He spends a lot of time in his head, you know what I mean? So we’re quite similar in some ways.”
So perhaps it is all that time spent in his head is what is making Hunter so frustrated right now, knowing that he has to hit the road in support of an album that he has, at least mentally, already put behind him.
Normally after writing an album, new material drips out slowly, and not all that pleasantly. It usually takes years before his songs start taking shape, but this time something else is happening.
“The next one’s coming extremely quickly, that’s pretty strange for me, that it would come so quickly,” he said. “Usually what comes after an album is nothing for awhile, in my case. And then I start writing these horrible songs with horrible titles, like pony songs, and this goes on for a couple of years. And then when I get to the point of no return, I start writing songs I quite like.”
That’s not to say he doesn’t appreciate the material on Shrunken Heads (and how could he not) its just that the new stuff is coming so quickly that he wants to get it all down on tape before its too late.
“I seem to have bypassed that horrible, two-year period,” he said. “And I’m so thankful because it’s a miserable time. I seem to have circumvented it this time. I really like this stuff, I really like it.”
RODEO ROB | An expert on all things "alt," Rob spends his days covering the energy industry and his nights covering the DC-area bars. Raise yer glass especially high to this man, for he has contributed to this site constantly since its creation four years ago.