Pop Culture

Nicely in a new groove (Howard Jones interview)

The Canberra Times, 21 March 2007

In the mid-1980s, when it was difficult to avoid Howard Jones synth-pop songs on the radio, it was easy to describe them as, well, “nice”. Whether his name conjures up the infectious opening chords of “Life in One Day”, the super-catchy “Like to get to Know You Well”, or even the mournful (but eminently danceable) “What is Love?”, you could be forgiven for saying something as silly as “Gee, that’s a nice song.”

            One assumes that Jones, now 51, wouldn’t be offended by that. He seems to be every bit as nice as his songs. He never dated famous models, but has been happily married for 30 years. He doesn’t do drugs, but as an animal lover, he was a vegetarian long before it became fashionable in the recording industry. He names the Beatles and Rolling Stones among his influences (like everyone else), but also the Hollies, Freddie and the Dreamers and (most unusual of all) classical music. Unlike many British rock stars, he was inspired by the music, not the rock-and-roll.

            A classically trained pianist, his first band (at age 18) was a “classical rock” band called Warrior. “I’d been studying classical music since I was seven, and that was a huge influence on me. The band that excited me most when I was 14 was Emerson, Lake and Palmer. Keith Emerson was a classically trained pianist, and he used to incorporate classical music into rock music. That’s what excited me most.”

            Jones later went to music college, but dropped out after two and a half years. “I was very disillusioned with classical music because I couldn’t express myself through playing dead people’s music.” Instead, he found a job “rolling cling film” in a factory – the sort of tedious, working-class position that seems perfect motivation for a future rock star. “After a couple of years in the factory, I realised that if I didn’t do something about it, I was going to be there for the rest of my life.”

            It was enough to return him to music. Yet it is typical of Jones that it wasn’t the anger and frustration of the job that he wanted to reveal, but his higher aspirations. “If I didn’t take steps to do what I really wanted to do, nothing would happen... I didn’t have any money. I wasn’t super-talented; I just had a good talent. But I really, really wanted to do that, and I wanted to convey that in the songs.”

            A milestone for him was discovering the synthesiser in 1979. At the time, it seemed an incredible instrument, seemingly capable of mimicking an orchestra. A few years later, he was performing as a “one-man band”, using only synthesisers and drum machines – a novelty at the time. His first single, “New Song”, became a UK top-three hit in 1983.

            To those who recall Jones from his years as a top-40 regular, synthesisers seem as much a part of his songs as the melodies and the sweet lyrics. “I was very much into writing songs and then orchestrating them into electronic music,” he recalls, “because that to me was the most exciting sound of the day. I dressed it up in the electronic clothes.” It so happened that he was catching a very large wave.

            So it might be surprising to learn that his coming Australian concert tour will be completely acoustic, with Robin Boul on guitars, and Jones replacing his trusty synth with a grand piano. “Howard Jones Unplugged” might sound as strange as “Kraftwerk Unplugged”, but as he notes, these songs were not just known for their cutting-edge technology. “A lot of them were actually written at the piano, in a conventional singer-songwriter way. Some of those songs are over 20 years old, and we’ve all moved on 20 years. To stop time and go back and play them in the same way feels very weird to me. It’s familiar, but it’s done in a different way that maybe suits the time.

            “The last tour I did of the UK was with a four-piece electronic band, but to be honest, I enjoy doing the acoustic shows more. It just feels less retro, because I’m kind of reinventing the songs, pretty much every night. It stretches me more and pushes me more as a musician and a performer.”

            This is no comeback tour. While Britain’s pop stars of the eighties have since do various other things – acting, songwriting, hosting TV gardening shows (in Kim Wilde’s case), or vanishing into obscurity – Jones hasn’t changed his job. “I knew that it would always be music for me. Music’s always been my passion, the thing that I was best at.”

            Actually, he did a short stint as a restaurateur. A vegetarian since age 1976, he opened a vegetarian eatery in New York in 1987. “We had really good chefs. It was really fine cuisine we tried to do, to encourage people to think ‘Vege food doesn’t have to be boring.’” The restaurant burned down a year later. Still, in a way, it was as groundbreaking as his music. “I kind of helped to sow a seed. Now in New York there’s many, many vege restaurants, with loads of menus with loads of choice for vegetarians.”

            But music remained his main occupation. He has contributed to albums of experimental music, written songs for soundtracks, and started his own label in 1997, dTox – a move he describes as “liberating”. Moving away from the pop melodies of  “Look Mama” and “No One Is to Blame”, his music has had a growing spiritual influence. (He has practised Nichiren Daishonin Buddhism for 14 years.)

            “I’ve always toured, I’ve always written, I’ve always made records, and it’s what I love to do,” he says. “I’ve always tried to get better at what I do, and I think that’s what artists are supposed to do.”

            And has he been doing so? Soon, when he visits Canberra, we will be able to judge for ourselves.