L.A. Off The Wall
April, 2001
The Soft Boys Interview
by Rot. Fay
When news of The Soft Boys' reunion filtered down to some e-mail in my lunchpail one morning, I had that complete feeling of euphoria usually reserved for first time parents, winning pitchers of The World Series, and lottery millionaires.
Perhaps a little background will put this exuberance into perspective. The Soft Boys were initially an ongoing affair in a bursting British Punk scene from the 1976 to 1982 when their unqualified Pop/Psyche masterwork Underwater Moonlight failed to sway the New Romantics and post-punkers.
Singer-guitar-hopeful Robyn Hitchcock was weaned on all sorts of musical flashpoints (Beatles, Captain Beefheart, Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd, and The Byrds, for starters) and started the band in the English countryside of Cambridge. Securing the talents of local guitar hero Kimberley Rew (Robyn quips, "Bringing Kimberley into the band was like putting Hendrix in The Stones!") along with the crack rhythm section of Morris Windsor on drums and Andy Metcalfe on bass, The Soft Boys landed a quick deal with Raw records for a seven-inch.
Things quickly soured with the fledgling label and for the first LP, the wonderfully frantic Can Of Bees. The boys released it themselves, fighting tooth and nail for a spot on the then-current Rock landscape of lunk-headed Punk, Disco, and the Grease Soundtrack. The Soft Boys' brand of high-energy Pop songs with no shortage of '60s references and Hitchcock's penchant to sing about reptiles and lamps with staggering four part harmonies somehow didn't light the world on fire. A switch in the bassist's seat after the Can Of Bees tour found Matthew Seligman bringing in a less-convoluted style that perfectly coincided with Hitchcock’s blossoming songwriting skills.
After Underwater Moonlight sold more copies in the colonies that at home, The Soft Boys ventured on their only U.S. tour in 1980. Unfortunately, with no Stateside record label goading the band to the hitherlands, their American chance at crossover appeal was nil. And what a shame. From the scant evidence available, The Soft Boys could deliver the entertaining goods live no matter what the setting. Sadly the kids in America only wanted the chirping pap of Doobie Brothers ballads.
Coming to the rescue is Matador Records with a piping new double CD reissue of Underwater Moonlight, complete with bonus songs and a full disc of rehearsal jams that prove just how supple these guys had it back then.
Recently, due to pressing matters of public relations, I had the chance to chat with Soft Boys singer-guitarist Robyn Hitchcock and bassist Matthew Seligman, who seems to relish the idea the upcoming tour. "When we were young, I was very flighty and would jump from band to band. Morris called one day to say their bass player had left. So I set off to Cambridge and realized that Hitchcock was the first truly gifted songwriter I'd worked with. It was the first time I'd been in a band, instead of the 'just-for-hire' bassist."
Hitchcock has done the U.S. touring circuit since indie Rock was known as college Rock, but he's excited about doing it right this time (i.e., an all-inclusive American tour). "The actual traveling I can do without at this point, especially the Midwest and beyond. But The Soft Boys is something that my reputation has always hung on, and Matador has done this fine reissue. Why not?"
Seligman's last sojourn of Rock 'n' Roll madness was in 1984 with Thomas Dolby. What the Frick? I ask Seligman if he's been to L.A. before. "[Laughs] Have I been to L.A.? I played in L.A. with Thomas Dolby. Do you remember the song "Hyperactive"? A computer played the bass and I would play on acoustic guitar live. It was rather mortifying, really. But because that song had this huge processed bass track all the session musicians were scared shitless! They came out to the show to'check me out'. The bass player from Hall And Oates and I had a nice chat, but he said that he'd listened to "Hyperactive" about ten times before he was convinced it was a computer and not some new-kid-on-the-block bass guy. I was in over my head."
When asked about the somewhat obvious cliches of reforming the old gang, Hitchcock promises new work with the old chestnuts. "Cliches are a subsistute for original thought, but a lot of time, they're there for a reason. Like platitudes. But the fact that they're usually true tends to annoy me more."
Seligman chimes in, "The real question is will we replace the past with something just as good?"
A good question, and one that only time will reveal.
Just before my time with Hitchcock was up, I asked about the current political landscape in both the U.S. and the UK. And it's here where the gloves come off. "Didn't Tony Blair meet with our newly partially-elected president?"
I'm afriad so.
"Where the Tony Blair/Bill Clinton axis seemed natural enough the Blair/Bush thing seems terribly wrong. Blair has been in power much longer than Bush, so he didn't have to suck up to the new U.S. leader so heavily. You just know that Bush is going to be bad news anyway -- possibly worse than when Reagan came in, because Reagan was cunning, pretending to be dumber than he was."
Just when the discussion was getting lathered I'm told there's only time for one more query. Don't you think that Bush, like Quayle before him, looks like a deer caught in the headlights?
"George Dubya might be caught in the headlights, but I don't think he’ll let himself be roadkill. His Dad was evil and cunning and..."
Time's up.
Funny how a cut-off thought sometimes needs no further elaboration.
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