| November 8th, 2004 01:41 PM |
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| Hannalee |
I imagine most of you have seen this before, but it was in this week's Rock's Backpages, and Charlie is always good value:
Charlie Watts: The Rock
Robert Sandall, Mojo, May 1994
INTERVIEWS WITH CHARLIE WATTS were once memorably described as being "as rare as rocking horse shit". Like many of the jazz players he admires so much, Watts seems to find the whole idea of publicity profoundly uncool. But with the release of a second album by his other group – a jazz band called The Charlie Watts Quintet – just before Christmas, he ventured forth to give a surprisingly forthright account of himself to Radio 4's arts magazine programme, Kaleidoscope.
Just returned from Dublin, where the Stones had finished laying down the backing tracks of their new album, Watts turned up at Broadcasting Moose dressed in an immaculate, double-breasted pinstripe suit, stripy shirt with tabbed collar and tie. He looked like an Edwardian stockbroker and talked rather like he drums – sparingly, with an engaging lack of pretentiousness.
Did you feel unusual as a teenager in liking jazz music rather than rock'n'roll?
No I didn't. It was very fashionable at the time to like The Modern Jazz Quartet. There was a little crowd of us that only listened to jazz. I mean, Elvis was totally out of it. I never liked Elvis until I met Keith Richards, who turned me onto Elvis, actually. The only rock'n'roll player I ever liked when I was young was Fats Domino.
What didn't you like about the rest?
I just thought it was the naffest thing you could do. I mean, teddy boys, rock'n'roll and that. The hippest thing to me was the green shirt, and Miles.
How did you get into jazz?
I never got into it. I heard it. (laughs) I heard Charlie Parker playing and that's what I liked. And I loved the stories. Parker is the classic one. You know, to be that brilliant and self-destructive. There was something terribly glamorous to me about being like that. It's really the genius of it all.
And why the drums?
The drums. I heard Chico Hamilton play on a record called ‘Walking Shoes’, and I had a banjo, took the neck oft it and started playing the banjo skin with a pair of brushes. Then my dad bought me a set of drums.
Did you plan to make a career of it?
No. (pause) I couldn't be bothered to learn. I was more interested in what suit I'd wear, and what the band looked like. I used to go to dance halls when I was 17 and watch the drummer playing with all the saxophones in front, with their silver glittery keys. I hated those dance orchestras, but I loved the look of it all.
How did you get up on stage in the first place?
I was asked to! What do you mean, how did I? (laughs) My earliest experience was with a skiffle group at the Wimbledon Palais. It was in the days when you'd have a band-leader like Lou Prager at one end, another band at the other, and we'd be playing across the room. And there'd be another skiffle group there as well. You had about five minutes to play three numbers, then Lou would be back on.
Was going to art college a formative musical experience for you?
Not really, cos I only went there for a little while. But because of my wife, Shirley, who's a sculptor, I did get close to a lot of art students. The guy who used to play bass with Alexis [Korner], Andy Hooper, was a friend of my wife. That's how I met her. She was at Hornsey at the time, then at the Royal College of Art. The first time I heard Bo Diddley was through the guys from Hornsey. They were always the first to get these wonderful imports. I used to go with them to parties where there'd be this music that nobody played: Jimmy McGriff, old Sue recordings. They always played good music.
So you liked the more obscure R&B?
Yeah. I never liked what's called popular music really. Except Frank Sinatra.
How did you meet Alexis Korner?
I played with him in a coffee bar, the Troubadour in Earls Court, where I also met Ginger Baker. There was a little crowd of us who used to play in a band that was a straight nick of the Thelonious Monk group, and Alexis used to sit in. Six months later I was in Denmark working in advertising and I got a call from Alexis saying he wanted me to come back to start this band, which was a very flattering thing for him to do, though I thought nothing of it at the time. It was just another band. Later on, The Rolling Stones was just another band. Though Alexis was a marvelous leader, a great band leader, really. He wasn't a very good guitar player or singer but he had great ears, terrific taste in players, and he always chose the best (pause), and I don't mean me. He would have Ginger Baker, Graham Bond. All his bands had great musicians, whether they were five years old or 55.
Did you have the same regard for the Stones as musicians?
Well I didn't have regard for many people back then, I don't think. It was all a hotch-potch. Because Mick had played with Alexis, we used to play at a place in Ealing where Brian and Keith would sit in. And I knew Brian long before I joined The Rolling Stones. I knew him through Alexis, and this friend of mine who used to sing with him. There was like a crowd of about 30 people that were all playing, and whichever five you shuffled out with that week, that was the band. It could be someone's brother. I used to play in a band with Ronnie Wood's brother, Art.
How by this process of musical chairs did you end up on the drumstool for The Rolling Stones?
Because the Stones just carried on with playing. And somehow I liked being with them.
Socially?
Yeah. I moved into Edith Grove, notorious Edith Grove. It was Mick's apartment. In fact he paid the rent, but three of us lived there off his back (laughs), being Keith, Brian and me. I learned to listen to the blues more when I was staying there with Keith and Brian, because that's what we used to do all day, listen to Jimmy Reed and Chuck Berry. And then we'd go out and play in the evening. I learned how good the drummer with Jimmy Reed was, Earl Phillips. He's a very, very subtle drummer actually, although it sounds like crashing and banging.
You don't seem to have participated all that much in the rock'n'roll lifestyle of the Stones in those early days.
No. I wasn't interested in it. I'm still not particularly interested in it.
Did that put a strain on your relations with the others?
No, I don't think so. I don't think they took much notice of it. What I liked was such a minority thing. It's difficult...I can't...No, you know, I mean I was more...I was more interested in Stravinsky than I was in Elvis Presley. I was much more thrilled at seeing Charlie Mingus than whoever. When I'd go to a town I'd find out who was playing and if it was Illinois Jacquet, you know, or Ornette Coleman, I'd go and see them rather than Herman & The Hermits.
And did all those screaming girls spoil the enjoyment of playing for you?
No, it's wonderful on stage. The minute the curtains closed I used to hate it. The screaming girls used to embarrass me, actually. I didn't mind being chased as a group, but on my own I could never see that sort of side of it. But on stage, it was fantastic. All I can remember about that era was being in America somewhere and just seeing the whole balcony moving up and down with girls screaming over it. That was fantastic. Couldn't hear a bloody thing.
What was your input into the Stones' music?
I've got no idea. I mean, I'm the drummer, you know, and the idea of a drummer is to help get this thing together in the best way possible. It's still like that. We'll start something and I'll play, and it's usually miles too much, because it's an exercise for me, and Mick'll say, "Ooh, do you think that's too...?" You know, there's too much there. That's the problem with most jazz drummers, if they play a rock'n'roll thing they'll be all over the bloody place. They've got so much facility they don't know where to stop. Mick and Keith write the songs, the music is theirs. So the bottom line is, if they want me just to go wham wham wham, then that's what I'll do. I think it should be whammity whammity bam, but I'll do wham wham wham.
I'm sure you're being very self-effacing here, because Keith Richards has said...
I know what Keith Richards said...
That you are one of the three pillars of The Rolling Stones, and that without you there would be no group. What do you think he means?
I dunno. I mean, I've just spent six months playing with him, and the last six weeks concentrated in a studio, and we can play certain things really well, extremely well, without even looking at each other. Or he'll do something, I can look and nod and...I don't know if that's something we worked out 30 years ago, or something we've spent 30 years practising.
Which Stones albums do you look back on with particular affection?
Gawd. I dunno (pause, sucks breath). This one we've just done is gonna be a good album, actually. It certainly seems it.
Any memorable concerts?
Good Lord! (pause) I dunno. I suppose playing at the Athletic Club in Richmond. And I can remember Altamont very well. It was awful, a very strange day. We were there all day, flying in by helicopter and that. That was all wrong (laughs). The hippies and the '70s was never me. I thought it was the silliest period. They used to give me a scarf to wear at photo-shoots... Altamont went wrong for a series of reasons. The security went completely berserk. The violence was actually happening long before we went on stage. It started backstage in the tent. I was talking to a couple of guys. The tent flap was moving and one of them just went whack! with his billiard cue. And I thought, that's no way to spread love and peace. And then we went on, marching through a crowd of boys and girls. Hundreds of them on the ground, dreamily looking up. And the path was cleared, just like the Third Reich coming through. Which wasn't us at all.
Did you feel that the Stones embodied the dark side of the '60s, as was often said?
Nah. Only at Altamont, a bit. That was just Mick writing songs like ‘Sympathy For The Devil’. It was very silly.
How do you take to life on the road?
It's a strain. Because I like to be in my home, with my wife. Shirley visits. She used to travel with us when it started but it never worked. She doesn't find it much fun being around me when I'm playing. Just being around The Rolling Stones you get pushed into the background. I would be, except I'm a drummer, and I'm needed onstage. Something funny happens to people when that name appears.
Do you change?
I don't think I do. But people on the road live in a funny netherland, where everything's done for you, and when somebody like your wife arrives from home into this ridiculous world (pause), Mick's very wary of that.
How were you affected by the period in the late '70s when Keith had his drug problems, and there was all that friction with Mick? Did you play the role of peacemaker?
I have no idea. I mean, I probably have as many rows with Mick and Keith as they do with each other. (pause) No, not as many. I don't argue that much. There's not much for me to argue about really.
Is Keith the one in the band you're closest to, socially?
No, I don't think so. I suppose Mick is, now that Keith's living in America. I'm going to see Mick on Thursday. But we've never been that sociable as a group. It's quite normal for us not to speak to each other for six months. Keith very rarely answers the phone, and he never rings anybody up. Of course, Ronnie Wood you can always see. He's the most sociable person in the world.
What do you do at home in Devon?
Walk around. I don't do anything really. My wife's the one who does things.
Do you practise the drums?
I used to do one or two hours a day, but to sit on your own and just play the drums is the most thing, you know. It's an accompanying instrument. The best drumming for me isn't solo drumming, it's accompanying drumming. Which is also the hardest to do, you know. It taxes the volumes, and everything that you learn.
Hence "Charlie's good tonight, inee?"
Yeah, that was very kind of him. Mick's not known for his compliments.
You talk as though you have quite a casual relationship with the instrument that's provided the mainstay of your life.
It's not meant to be (pause). I have total reverence for it. As an instrument it frightens the life out of me.
Why?
The volume of them. Just acoustically. I never sit down and just play. I always sit down and think about it, and then play. They are an incredible thing to play, but it can be quite frightening.
You're very restrained as a drummer.
Lack of ability. A very clever way of putting it, isn't it? 'You're very restrained as a writer,' – 'Yes, I do Christmas cards.' I mean, I've turned it into an art form. It's called taste. But a lot of it is lack of ability. Plus the other thing – I can't count.
What keeps you still doing it?
Keith would say "What else are you going to do?" I don't know what keeps them doing it, bloody hell. I suppose they like doing it. I mean, I do. I probably enjoy it more now. I can see what I'm doing now in a way. I'm more relaxed with it. And I would like to say that I wouldn't want to play with anybody else but The Rolling Stones. I enjoy being with them and playing with them immensely. Immensely. Always have done. I find the bullshit around (pause) popular music, shall we call it? You get annoyed about that. The fact that everything is so disposable.
Do you have any unrealised ambitions?
No. (pause) I'm a drummer. I wish I'd been a better one. I mean, it's just rubbish, people saying how great you are and all you've done is pick your pair of drumsticks up. It's very nice, but it's a load of old rubbish really. And you know there's 29 people around you being paid to look after you. (pause) Terrible life eh?
Any further thoughts on that career summary you gave: "Five years of playing and 20 years of hanging about?"
It's six years of playing and 30 years of hanging about, coming up.
© Robert Sandall, 1994
[Edited by Hannalee] |
| November 8th, 2004 01:50 PM |
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| Monkey Woman |
Great read, Hannalee, thanks for the article! |
| November 8th, 2004 03:03 PM |
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| gustavobala |
thanxs, is nice to see stones's interviews
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| November 8th, 2004 03:22 PM |
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| kath |
my sweet chollie...
thanks! |
| November 8th, 2004 03:27 PM |
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| Ten Thousand Motels |
He's in denial. Still can't call a spade a spade. But I suppose it always worked for interviews. |
| November 8th, 2004 03:59 PM |
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| Monkey Woman |
Denial? |
| November 8th, 2004 05:19 PM |
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| kath |
he actually loves me, but he's in denial.......
(sorry, i fell into the teeny bopper mode...) |
| November 8th, 2004 07:56 PM |
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| KeithRichardsgrl |
aww charlie is so sweet and kind, He rocks!!!!! |
| November 8th, 2004 09:01 PM |
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| Soldatti |
Great reading, thanks! |
| November 9th, 2004 02:29 AM |
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| Monkey Woman |
quote:
kath wrote:
he actually loves me, but he's in denial.......
(sorry, i fell into the teeny bopper mode...)
Good one, kath!  |
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