Richard Butler In The Modern World
The Psychedelic Furs Leader Stops Shouting
Though Richard Butler was inspired to take up music after a
show that could only have happened in punk-era London - The Clash, Sex Pistols
and Siouxsie & The Banshees all on one bill at the 100 Club- he misses
neither the city nor the scene. For the last two years, the Psychedelic Furs
leader has resided with his girlfriend and his brother/ bassist Tim in New York
City's Soho neighborhood. "I just found London to be really dull," he
explains. "I was doing exactly the same things everyday. And maybe that
was my fault that I was in such a rut, finding the place boring and just
getting drunk every day. It might just be me person- ally. I need to feel a
little bit alien almost for a place to have an edge of excitement.”
Since setting up residency in the other birthplace of punk,
Butler's music has moved in a softer direction from the days of surly, chaotic
Furs classics like "Imitation Christ," "Pretty in Pink" and
"Into You Like a Train." Taking a cue from their first American hit,
"Love My Way," the current Furs LP, Mirror Moves, finds Butler nearly
optimistic ("Heartbeat") and, when satirical ("Here Come
Cowboys")) nonetheless willing to present his views in a commercially
accessible format. Though the sound is somewhat sparser than its cello-laden
predecessor, the Todd Rundgren-produced Forever Now, it's still some distance
from the band's origins.
In fact, Butler seems amused that scenes like Orange
County's hardcore contingency still exist: "Yeah, but it's like you still
get teddy boys in England, and you still get mods," he says. "It's
the same. There'll probably s be punks in ten years' time." Like many punk
survivors, Butler feels the movement, though now dead and buried, was important
in its time. "I know you've heard this many times about punk, but it
really did shake the whole music industry up," he contends, "getting
people out making music, making people realize that anybody can do it. I mean,
I wouldn't have been in a band if it hadn't been for punk rock, and I certainly
wouldn't have been signed if it hadn't been for punk rock"
While Butler risks alienating older fans by describing the
first two Furs LPs as "almost unpleasant listening" because of their
intensity, he adds "They were great for the time and I still see what's
good about them. But the longer I do something, the better I feel I get at
it."
One area where Butler sees improvement is in his vocal
style. "I’m considering myself to be a singer," he announces. Could
that mean vocal lessons? "Oh no, I wouldn't go that far," he laughs.
"I think vocal lessons might take away something rather than add
something. I mean, I don't want to be a singer like Dean Martin."
No problem there. While Butler has refined his singing to
some extent, the hoarse, sarcasm-laden delivery that gives the Furs their charm
and distinctiveness remains, though in some- what toned-down form. Likewise,
his songwriting has taken on a new subtlety. Of "Here Come Cowboys,"
the current single with its allusions to American notions of leadership and
morality, he comments, "It's subliminally political; it doesn't scream its
message out. I don't like songs that do. I'm not a fan of The Alarm or The
Clash."
Butler is a fan of Prince, having followed the artist since
Dirty Mind, and The Police, a band he only grew to like with the release of
Synchronicity Among lyricists, he speaks highly of "Paint It
Black"-era Jagger and Chuck Berry. "The thing about Chuck Berry is he
never considered himself a lyricist, which is the nicest kind of lyricist, I
think, sometimes. As opposed to the obvious ones like Bob Dylan and Elvis
Costello, who almost seem to write as if they're consciously writing something
that's poetry."
Butler owes his first exposure to music to his parents.
"Well, there's not really much to say about them. I mean, me old man's a
Communist and has been since I was a kid, and my mother's an artist." The
elder Mr. Butler is also a research chemist and record collector. "He used
to play Bob Dylan when I was about nine or ten," recalls Butler.
"Dylan, Woodie Guthrie, Hank Williams, and all the blues guys...I just
took it all in. I'm grateful to him for playing Bob Dylan to me, definitely,
and Hank Williams and Edith Piaf, you know. I'm not so keen on Burl Ives and
Jim Reeves."
Nor is Butler particularly enamored with the inequities that
inspired early Dylan and Guthrie songs. "Narrow- mindedness is the thing
that gets me angriest of all, and the thing that I see most of the time,"
he comments. "T mean everywhere, it's unending. Sexism, prejudice against
all kinds of people, from homosexuals through to all different races. You pull
up to a truck stop and get out and you're immediately confronted with
hostility.
"I'm as angry as I ever was, it's just, that you
realize after a while that shouting isn't the best way to get your anger
across," says Butler. "If you've got something to say, it's almost a
responsibility to say it to a lot of people. And to get across to a lot of
people, you've got to make a lot of people want to listen to you. It's as
simple as that. It's almost compromising one part of your output for another.”