Chicago Tribune
June 28, 1989
Fame Is A Pain
Just Ask The Wickedly Talented Robyn Hitchcock
Robyn Hitchcock much rather would have talked about the sleek dolphins swimming off Norfolk Beach, Virginia, or the intrepid pelicans divebombing the ocean for dinner. Instead he was being pestered with long-distance questions about what he does for a living: Pop-music provocateur, cult figure, social satirist, oblique lyricist and creater of some of the most seductively wicked Rock of the '80s.
It's taken about 10 years, but the civilized world is finally catching up with Hitchcock, who headlines Thursday at the Vic Theatre. He's finally with a major label -- A&M -- and his most recent album, Queen Elvis, will undoubtedly sell more copies than any of his previous minor masterpieces.
"Pop star?!" Hitchcock almost choked on the notion. "God, I don't want that. It's nice to be one for a few years. But they all end up toothless drunks with their clippings pasted on the wall.
"As a kid, I remember I couldn't stand that soppy, old 'entertainer' trash. I preferred The Beatles. But I saw Sinatra in a movie the other night -- High Society -- and I'm thinking to myself, 'This guy could do it all -- comedy, acting, singing.' Three arrows in his quiver. Now what have we got? Moonstruck? Cher? C'mon."
Hitchcock sighed, as if bearing the weight of the world's cultural collapse.
"I've got to live. I didn't sign with a major label -- or make this last record -- to raise my profile. I mean, A&M didn't say to me that the 'world needs your records and we're here to help.' They've got to make money on this deal -- and I've got to let them do it.
"But on the other hand, Rolling Stone just asked me to do a six-page photo spread modeling raincoats. I was flattered, but I told them they might try [R.E.M. singer] Michael Stipe instead.
"That's not what I'm about. I'm about words and music, not photo spreads."
The words and music began in earnest in Punk-mad Cambridge circa 1976 with a band called The Soft Boys. The decidely non-Punk-ish Hitchcock, guitarist Kimberley Rew (later of Katrina And The Waves), bassist Andy Metcalfe and drummer Morris Windsor simply "landed on the wrong planet".
But The Soft Boys did release a classic album in 1980, Underwater Moonlight, which has served as a blueprint for Hitchcock's music: intense, witty, guitar-based tunes jammed with Pop hooks.
Ever since, Hitchcock has been picking up fans and admirers -- among them R.E.M. guitarist Peter Buck and db's mastermind Peter Holsapple. Together they play occasional concerts as Nigel And The Crosses.
"We're gearing up so that when each of us is broke, we can get together and play dodgy versions of all our old pseudo-hits," Hitchcock cackled.
Buck also has played on Hitchcock's last two records, and has appeared as an unofficial "special guest" at many of his concerts.
"Peter likes to have a beer, read a book. And he's a great guy. Besides, if he has a night off, he'll fly from Malaysia to Oklahoma to play with us," Hitchcock said admiringly.
But it is Metcalfe and Windsor, known as "The Egyptians", with whom Hitchcock is most at home.
"We've been playing together 13 years, and we're a very empathetic team. I can't imagine us adding another permanent member because we're like any organisim -- it changes when you add something. We're all very busy players. If anything, we need to subtract."
Their interplay in concert ranges from the Power Pop of "I Wanna Destroy You" to the a cappella "Uncorrected Personality Traits". Songs such as "My Wife And My Dead Wife" address disturbing subjects with compassion and grace (while a seemingly benign request such as "Please don't call me Reg, it's not my name" is twisted into something vaguely menacing on "Brenda's Iron Sledge").
Of such contradictions is a cult star made. His idiosyncratic melodies, queasy subject matter (insects and crustaceans are particular favorites) and left-field humor ensure that Hitchcock never will be a household name. That's just fine with him.
"Queen Elvis is about the collision of two cultures," Hitchcock explained. "No one treats the queen like a human being, just as no one treated Elvis Presley as a human being. She was doomed by her genetics to be what she is. She could have been born looking like a horseshoe and she still would've been the queen.
"Elvis went from nothing to something to everything in the span of about five minutes -- trapped. But he's lucky because he's dead. The queen and Bob Dylan -- why, they're still walking around, embalmed.
"Then there's me: a termite clinging to the side of the musical world, waiting to be slagged off like any insignificant insect."
In the background, a plane buzzes past. "A jet just passed overhead and our friend the pelican totally ignored it," said Hitchcock, as he signed off. "That's the story of my career."
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