Blondie, Parallel Lives Read online

  “We got better at what we did,” added Deborah. “There was an advancement of technology and the different sounds we could bring in. Chris had a synthesizer that could talk! We were pretty open to experimentation.”

  The band responded to Chapman’s more spontaneous method by pulling together a series of impressive tracks just at the moment it was absolutely necessary to do so. “‘Dreaming’ was recorded live,” explained Jimmy. “‘Living In The Real World’, the song ‘Eat To The Beat’, the basic track for ‘Slow Motion’ – we did all that stuff live, it was great. Only ‘Atomic’ and one other song were done with a click-track. By Eat To The Beat Chapman had really sharpened us up.”

  “‘Atomic’ was supposed to be the last disco song. We said we’d do one more disco song and then that was it. ‘Atomic’, though, sounds like Duran Duran to me,” added Clem.

  “There was lots of guitar, and I was free to do what I wanted,” continued Frank. “For me, they’re so good, because they’re all so different – ‘Victor’ was a good song, because I wrote it. The musical idea came from Russia, somehow. The theme there was a Russian thing. ‘The Hardest Part’ was a good song, too. ‘Die Young, Stay Pretty’ – Debbie came up with the concept.”

  “Jimmy came up with the idea of reviving ‘Die Young, Stay Pretty’, which was an old song of ours,” clarified Chris. “We wanted to do a reggae song and that number had always been arranged that way. We thought ‘The Hardest Part’ might do something in the States as a single but one thing I’ve learned is that one never knows. So much of it has to do with politics, craziness. If hit records only concerned people’s taste and not all these weird prejudices about what type of music it is, they would be a lot easier to pick.”

  Like ‘Heart Of Glass’, ‘Atomic’ was the most radical song on the album and was ultimately plucked to provide the disc’s biggest hit single. Similarly adventurous was the thunderous ‘Dreaming’, which showcased the band’s developing ability to create an expansive sound and also found its way onto a seven-inch.

  “The reason why ‘Dreaming’ came out the way it did is because [Chapman] really gave me free rein and it was really a surprise,” remembered Clem. “That take of ‘Dreaming’ was just me kind of blowing through the song. It’s not like I expected that to be the take. I was consciously overplaying just for the sake of it because it was a run-through. I always say ‘Dreaming’ would have been a bigger hit had I not played like that. It was Top 40, but it was never a huge hit.”

  ‘Sound-A-Sleep’ was equally left-field, drawing inspiration from the kind of gently crooned lullaby hits that had been a staple of pre-war radio. “It’s supposed to be like regular old style traditional music,” explained Chris. “I think maybe the next album is going to be big band hits of the thirties and forties. At the end of the show we play the track without the vocal. That tape is a rough tape we made while recording in the studio.”

  Whereas ‘Slow Motion’ took its cue from Motown, the sonic sheen that Chapman imparted to ‘Die Young, Stay Pretty’ can be viewed as one of the few occasions where his production works against a Blondie song. While the album version is a light slice of ersatz reggae that veers perilously close to the kind of cultural imperialism found on 10cc’s ‘Dreadlock Holiday’, live it was an altogether more dub-wise experience.

  “There’s no doubt in my mind that a record producer’s job is to be in total control of a recording session,” asserted Chapman, “he not only has to take the rap at the end of the day for choosing the right or wrong songs, but he has to make sure that the arrangements on those songs are correct, that the atmosphere that’s created on the record is right for the song, that the song is right for the image of the band. With Debbie and the rest of the people in Blondie, they leave everything to me – all they do is come up with these genius ideas, and then they give me the responsibility of putting them together.”

  “Mike Chapman actually inherited a lot of the efforts of what we did way back then,” observed Craig Leon. “But I don’t want to slight him, because in my opinion he is probably the greatest producer of the seventies pop era. And he really made Blondie into something commercial and worldwide when he got a hold of it.”

  Despite the sense of urgent innovation that makes Eat To The Beat both diverse and vibrant, there were limits to the levels of experimentation. “Vocally, I wanted to do something different, so I tried inhaling helium which no one liked,” revealed Debbie. Although she later observed that the disc may have been “too accessible”, there was a general feeling of satisfaction and relief when the album was sent for final mixing in June.

  “I considered this to be my album in a lot of ways. I’m all over the place on it, but not in a negative sense,” declared Clem. “The songs are very up, and there are a lot of punk rock elements. That’s our most rock’n’roll album. With a title like Eat To The Beat, it has to be.”

  “Even though America chose to pretty much ignore our first two albums, before picking up on Parallel Lines and the ‘Heart Of Glass’ single, in a way we’re already at the crossroads of our career,” Chris remarked. “Eat To The Beat is … the first one that the American public has been waiting for. Now, there really isn’t another ‘Heart Of Glass’ amongst the tracks, but I honestly believe it to be our best effort and I guess it will enjoy mass appeal on the strength of us now having so many fans.”

  Exhausted by the problems that had extended the album sessions, Mike Chapman was keen to return to LA. Reflecting on the completion of a difficult job, he admitted to uncertainty as to what had been achieved. “It was hard to have a positive attitude when the project was finished. I wasn’t at all sure what we had made. I was tired and I wanted to go home. I seem to remember all of us feeling that perhaps this was the end. Was this record good enough? Was this the record that the public was waiting for, or was it just the waste of seven sick minds?”

  Jimmy, however, was far less equivocal: “If there’s no Mike Chapman, there’s no Jimmy Destri on the next album.”

  At the end of June 1979, Blondie set out on their now customary round of post-recording gigs. This time they accompanied the Dave Edmunds/Nick Lowe vehicle Rockpile on a six-week US tour, which ended in Los Angeles on August 15. Relations between the two bands quickly became competitive largely due to the penchant of Jake Riviera, boss of Rockpile’s label Stiff Records, for stirring things up. In order to pour oil on increasingly choppy waters, the imposing Mike Vosburg was sent along to quell the bickering – partner of Alice Cooper/Teddy Pendergrass manager Shep Gordon.

  Gordon’s involvement spoke volumes. During the tour, it was officially announced that Peter Leeds was now no longer connected with the band and that Gordon would assume the role with effect from August 1. This came as a huge relief to the group. “Shep Gordon has a knowledge of show business which, no matter what anybody says, is really what the record business is. And, we hope to use his vast knowledge and I think he hopes to use ours to reach a mutually happy medium – not a compromise,” declared Chris.

  After months of wrangling, Debbie was delighted. “We constantly had to fight to maintain what we, as a group, honestly felt that we were, but with our old management there was absolutely no simpatico in the relationship whatsoever,” she asserted. “I’m the first to realise that certain images of the group have been shaped but perhaps in the coming year we’ll have the opportunity to put new and more valid ones across. OK, so it might not be easy. But I don’t think it could have ever come across before under our previous managerial set-up and, again, I’ll be the first to admit that it was a very serious and important failure. It was really destructive in terms of projecting a long-term career.”

  Shep Gordon’s career was intrinsically linked with that of Alice Cooper, whom he’d managed since 1969 and guided to fame and fortune. A sharp-witted New Yorker, he’d got a toe hold by becoming the West Coast agent for The Left Banke, who had a Top 10 hit with a cover of The Four Tops’ ‘Don’t Walk Away Renee’.

  While in
LA, Shep encountered Janis Joplin and, through her, Jimi Hendrix – who’d been introduced to Alice and knew he was looking for a manager. Gordon jumped in and signed Alice Cooper (then a five-piece band, just like Marilyn Manson later) to his new company Alive Enterprises, overseeing their deal with Frank Zappa’s Straight label. Zappa’s manager, Herb Cohen, wanted Alice’s publishing, but Gordon intervened and retained 50 per cent for his new client. He later admitted that he hadn’t a clue what publishing was, but his instincts told him that, if Zappa and Cohen wanted it, it was obviously worth something. Shep Gordon and Alice Cooper never looked back.

  Although he was already known to Debbie and Chris, Gordon was recruited by means of a recruitment process Nigel Harrison found particularly tiresome. “Very few groups have had to sit in a room while 36 managers try to sell you on why they’re so wonderful,” asserted the bassist. “I don’t trust any of these people; it’s just a business, and I hate the business side of music. The first few weeks the whole band would go, 12 to 2, at our accountant’s office. As the days went on just Clem and I went there, then I’d go there alone to talk to managers, ‘cos no one wanted to know about it. We were making Eat To The Beat, and it just doesn’t go with the creative process. Some of these guys are more show business than the groups themselves.”

  The downside of jettisoning Peter Leeds was that the settlement guaranteed their former manager 20 per cent of the gross on any future Blondie or Debbie Harry product originated at Chrysalis. “Even though financially we all sacrificed a lot … and I do mean a lot, it really wasn’t worth all the hassles. You’ve just got to put it down to experience,” affirmed Stein – though he was later forced to admit that the prospect was galling: “When you see yourself producing these huge sums for other people, it’s hard sometimes not to feel bitter. I just can’t cut off my emotions and not be upset.”

  Still, the resolution of their management hassles served to lighten the mood. The following month saw the release of Eat To The Beat which, although it stalled at number 17 in the US, would still go on to achieve platinum status. In Britain it rose to the top of the chart by mid-October, consolidating the group’s status – and providing them with a springboard for further innovation.

  Chapter Ten

  Walking On Glass

  “We’re definitely not an underground group any more …”

  Clem Burke

  With Eat To The Beat sitting proudly on top of the UK album chart, ‘Dreaming’ made its debut on the Top 40 at number seven before rising five places the following week – kept from the top spot by The Police’s ‘Message In A Bottle’. As the record slowly slid down the Top 10 over the next fortnight, Clem tempered his disappointment. “English audiences are notoriously fickle. They go off people after a while. It’s been done before. We’re so spoiled by having all those number ones …”

  In the US the single stalled at number 27, despite an irrepressible performance on NBC’s Saturday Night Live which saw the band blast through both ‘Dreaming’ and ‘Union City Blue’. (Two months later, Jimmy Destri would be back on the show with David Bowie.)

  In November 1979, the group travelled to Austin, Texas to take part in the shooting of Roadie, where they played one of the bands for which the movie’s eponymous hero – played by Meat Loaf – worked. In addition to featuring in a fight scene with a café full of dwarves, the band got to perform several songs, including a cover of the Johnny Cash standard ‘Ring Of Fire’.

  While Debbie and Chris had already amassed a fair amount of on-set experience, the rest of the band found the process of filmmaking less than exciting. “I think it’s just the hanging around and the boredom, man. It just gets you pissed off. You get real irritable when you gotta sit around all day doing nothing,” griped Frank. “When we played those first three songs, that was the best time I’ve had since we’ve been here. Like playing, actually playing without having to think about whether we’re gonna have to do it again 20 million times, or trying to think about cameras and all that shit.”

  “We told them to get us six Space Invaders games, which I really didn’t think would be that hard to do,” added an equally bored Clem. “A couple of dirt bikes and some Space Invaders games. I’m surprised they didn’t – especially because we have to be here every day.”

  The United Artists movie – which also featured Alice Cooper (like Blondie, managed by Shep Gordon), Roy Orbison and Hank Williams Jr. – received its Stateside release in June 1980 and pretty much sank without a trace. Around the same time there was some discussion about Deborah being cast as the seductive Princess Aura in Universal’s big-budget remake of Flash Gordon, initially set to be directed by acclaimed filmmaker Nicolas Roeg. “I was really excited at the idea of Nic directing me,” enthused Debbie. “But Nic and the producer, Dino De Laurentiis, had a falling out and Nic backed out of the project altogether. The next director [Mike Hodges] didn’t want me. It was as simple as that. I would have done it with or without Nic.”

  As ‘Dreaming’ slid out of the British chart, Chrysalis sought to maintain sales momentum by releasing ‘Union City Blue’ on November 23. The single would peak at number 13 in mid-December, coinciding with the group’s return to the UK for a major headlining tour. The tour was heralded by a return promotional visit to Our Price Records in Kensington where crowds brought the busy shopping thoroughfare to a standstill for the second time in just over a year. “I stuck my head out the upstairs window of the shop and the crowd cheered,” recalled Deborah. “Then Jimmy stuck his head out the window and yelled, ‘Do you wanna see her again?’ Everybody went, ‘Yeeeaaahhhh!’ So I stuck my head out the window again and another cheer went up. I was plucked.”

  After recording ‘Dreaming’ for the Christmas edition of Top Of The Pops, the tour started on December 26 in Bournemouth. As if to underline that the group were returning as stars to the country that first embraced them, Blondie’s Glasgow Apollo show on New Year’s Eve was broadcast live on BBC’s The Old Grey Whistle Test, where they were joined on stage by The Strathclyde Pipers for ‘Sunday Girl’.

  Despite their exalted status, the group had fought to play eight nights at the more intimate Hammersmith Odeon instead of one or two gigs at Wembley Arena, resulting in some of their best ever shows, as a relaxed Debbie interacted with the crowd in a party-like atmosphere, even handing beer to waiting fans before the Saturday matinee. Choreographed by their old associate Tony Ingrassia, now resident in Berlin, she described performing as “surreally effortless … I would try to take the audience on Blondie escapades and emotional voyages, and this worked very well for me.”

  During the encores, Iggy made a surprise appearance for ‘Funtime’ while every show saw Robert Fripp reprising his role on Bowie’s ‘Heroes’. (“‘Heroes’ is one of those songs; Bowie’s ‘My Way’, God, operatic,” gasped Debbie.)

  Going by what happened on the coach trip during Blondie’s previous visit, co-author Kris wasn’t even down on the timetable for an interview this time; there was just the Sunday afternoon of January 13 set aside for ‘hanging out with Needs’ – the afternoon of the final night of their Hammersmith Odeon stint.

  This time, they were staying at the plush Carlton Towers in Knightsbridge, a far cry from the glorified bed-and-breakfast of that first trip. Although I’d spoken to Chris on the phone, I admit I had the odd qualm about seeing them for the first time in over a year after reading several tabloid reports which portrayed Debbie as a recluse, holed up in her hotel room eating nuts and melons. Maybe they’d changed? Maybe Debbie had become the peroxide recluse basking in fame, ensconced in her fortress, taking Concorde to the corner shop and bereft of spirit and enthusiasm as some reports would have you believe.

  I had nothing to worry about – the day the papers said she was imprisoned by her fame, Debbie was out shopping in a wig and giggling at the story on the news-stands. It was three o’clock in the afternoon when I was summoned to Chris and Debbie’s room from the foyer. They’d just got up, and the breakfast w
as being wheeled in as I arrived, finding Debbie hanging out of bed sporting the Day-Glo-striped mini-dress she wore on Blondie’s recent Whistle Test appearance.

  Her recently trimmed hair is tousled, face devoid of make-up and she looks in fine fettle. Chris sprawls on the bed next to her, barefoot and relaxed. Of all the times I’d met Debbie, I’d never encountered her in such ebullient spirits, even bouncing up and down on the bed with a big grin across her face, dispensing a contagious flow of buffoonery and easy chatter, interspersed with discussing details like stage volume and the madness of the year they’ve had since we last met in late 1978. In short, she radiates, especially when she laughs, which is often.

  While Debbie bounces on the bed, pours coffee and hops around the room, rarely in the same place for five minutes, Chris stays in the same position, a half-smile on his face as he expounds on the current tour and other issues of the moment. The couple seem very content despite their intensive daily work schedule, still demonstrating an intimacy and warmth which dispels any notions of arrogance or conceit. Their close bond was always what protected them from becoming victims to the madness and chaos that enveloped Blondie from the start.

  We started talking, I turned on the cassette recorder and ended up with the longest interview I’d done with them, or anyone else at that point. The resultant feature ran to seven pages and was framed by Blondie’s third Zigzag cover. It was no secret that Debbie hated interviews because she always got asked the same things. We just chatted and it flowed to the extent that I was compelled to excise some of our conversation from the finished piece for fear of litigation.

  The mood was noticeably lighter because it was the first time they’d played the UK under new management. Previously, Debbie and Chris had often been seething about Peter Leeds. This time, they were able to enjoy the experience and appreciate the adulation and affection that greeted them throughout the trip.