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(return
to part 2)
Tell us a bit about Earl
Vince & the Valiants - Mac's alter ego incarnation.
The song "Someone's Gonna Get Their Head
Kicked in Tonight" [released under the pseudonym] was a
result of an unfortunate experience when Pete, Mick, and John
got beaten up in a club in Northern England. I wrote the song
as a stab at the type of characters that spoil the fun for everyone
at venues. The sad thing was, it seemed that some people didn't
get the point, and it became a favored jukebox play for the very
crowd it was spoofing.
What are you comfortable
saying about the contrast between your old stage persona and
your religious leaning, even then?
I believed in God and was searching the Bible
and other spiritual books for the answers. I didn't understand
it myself, really, why I was such an irreverent little so-and-so
onstage and off, yet had those religious inclinations. I realized
later that it was true what Jesus said, that the whole need not
a physician, but those that are sick. I was just sick, period.
How did you come to sit
out the sessions for 1969's Then Play On but record your first solo album with
Mac in support?
Pete asked me if I had any new stuff for the
album. I said no, only 1950s-style rock 'n' roll stuff, which
wouldn't have fit in with the direction he and Danny were going.
We thought about putting it on a companion EP to be packaged
with the album. The idea grew to be its own full-fledged album,
which flopped miserably. But I had fun doing it. Actually, in
retrospect, one of the most enjoyable things was working with
Danny on it, as it brought out a side of him I hadn't seen.
Tell us about the shock
of Peter quitting. How did you and the others create Kiln House without him?
That couple of weeks working with Danny on
my solo album sort of set the stage for having to work together
without Pete later. However, I was still desperately lacking
original inspiration. Hence, my contribution to Kiln House
was more of the same, with the exception of "One Together."
What were the dynamics
like in the band then in terms of friendships and mutual support?
We did stay friends. We had to! Like the old
saying: "We'd better hang together, 'cause if we don't,
it's for sure we'll hang separately!"
I believe the rest of the band was concerned
about me, and they couldn't figure me out. I couldn't even figure
myself out. They tried to encourage me with any shreds of new
stuff I had. I was even going to drop "One Together"
from the Kiln House album, for instance, but they insisted
on keeping it on.
Were manager Clifford Davis
and Warner-Reprise pushing hard to "keep the show on the
road," so to speak?
I didn't feel that those you mention were
pushing, although it was evident that we needed to get down to
business in the wake of Pete's departure. We pretty much flopped
in England, but an encouraging aspect for us was that Kiln
House was our biggest-selling album in the States up until
that time, and the accompanying tour was surprisingly well received.
It seemed that the audiences were unfamiliar with what we'd done
before and had bought that album on its own merit.
If you don't mind revisiting
what you were feeling then, how bad was the pressure to keep
things going after Peter left, and how unsatisfying was it all?
I think we all felt the pressure to keep things
going after Pete left. He had been the main creative force. And,
as usual, I was merely filling the role of being a showman, but
with unoriginal material and parodying, which pretty much became
just mimicking Elvis in a gold lamé suit. This was very
unsatisfying, to say the least. I can't say it enough, that the
lack of creative inspiration for me was devastating. It was practically
killing me, along with my questions about life and what was I
living for. Nothing seemed to have any purpose. I really did
feel like Solomon, that "all is vanity," although I'd
gotten to that point at only 22 years old.
I'm guessing that Mick
was a road warrior as usual, John content to order another pint,
Danny perhaps a bit lost already, and I have no idea how Christine
handled things. I can't help but think that performing had become
a wearisome job by then.
We all felt incapable. But Mick was a good
morale booster and road warrior of the "old gigs-ter"
school, having experienced a musician's life of feast and famine.
I was amazed at his fortitude in that. Danny was coming up with
interesting new stuff, although he would be hard pressed for
lyrics. We would sit around and brainstorm song themes and words,
and everything sounded trite. Christine was more of a lyricist,
so when she joined later, things started to take shape in that
direction. Me? I didn't know what to say. And if I did, I didn't
know how to say it. And bottom line, I just didn't enjoy playing
anymore.
By abandoning the band
to join the Children of God [later called the Family], I assume
you found something - a foundation - to sustain you. Have you
been happy these last 35 years?
On the whole, I have been happy. It's funny
when people ask me, "Are you happy?" It kind of stops
me, and I wonder, not because I doubt it, as we all have good
days and bad days, but I have to say that I am. It was difficult
at the beginning of joining Children of God - more for me than
most. As Jesus said, "How difficult it is for a rich man
to enter the kingdom of God." He didn't say it was impossible,
but squeezing a camel through the eye of a needle is a squeeze!
Now I can honestly say that every day, month,
and year has gotten better, and I am happier now and more fulfilled
than ever. It's quite amazing. And one thing is for certain:
I found inspiration within two weeks of leaving FM. I started
getting ideas for songs and tunes and, later, melodies on the
piano. I have stacks of unused ideas that I can't see getting
around to finishing, let alone recording, in this life.
(continue
to part 4)
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