Contrast
The Jazz Butcher vs the USA
(USA)
August, 1986
Credit:
Laura Smith & Randy Bookasta
Photography: Greg Allen
Just what is this thing called the Jazz Butcher? For four
years now this question has plagued many a listener. Is it
one man's twisted solo persona, singing
not-quite-your-average songs about
goldfish and
Bigfoot?
Is it actually a band, expanding its attack to include the
Sikkorskis from Hell and
dead fish in elevators?
Or maybe it's truly an evil elaborate plot to overthrow your
mind with its first US
album&
tour onslaught as the
Jazz Butcher Conspiracy... Call it a man, a band or an
insidious plan, call it neo-folk-jazz-pop-whatever or the
best-sounding records to come out of Britain in recent
memory, just don't call it late for dinner. We instead
called lead singer and guitarist
Pat (a/k/a Butch) in L.A.
recently at a reasonable hour and found him "
functioning"
during his first beer of the day, not to mention a most
pleasant conversationalist.
In the world according to Pat, the Jazz Butcher is rather a
loose aggregation trying to avoid this "Jethro Tull school
of pop music posturing" as best it can, sometimes switching
names, instruments and band members. Shortly after playing here,
bassist
Felix Ray
left his post in the band as
David J.
's
successor. Appended names continually change, such as the
Jazz Butcher and the Sikkorskis from Hell
"They're
Gothic heavy metal helicopters. We were completely twisted,
doing one of our Hunter S. Thompson weekends, reading about this Sikkorski
helicopter that crashed into the sea and thought of this
heavy metal album cover, with teeth and flames -- we kept
picturing this helicopter coming out of the mouth of
hell..."
the Jazz Butcher and the Kings of the Garage
Scum from Hell, and the Jazz Butcher Conspiracy; and while
the basic lineup - guitars, bass, drums - remains fairly
constant, Pat is known to sub the occasional flute, bass or
vocal saxophone bit. All rather befitting a project that
evolved as a "
chance to go on vacation from day jobs and
show all these bastards..."
Living in Northampton, England, Pat was a "middle-class
college white boy" who began writing in 1982 more as a
hobby than anything else, just to see if it could be done.
Glass Records released his solo album "Bath Of Bacon", in the UK that
year; joined by
Max Eider
on guitar, a partnership was formed
that persists on every subsequent release.
David J.
(ex-Bauhaus)
also began working with them for the next few records before
leaving for Love And Rockets. Says Pat:
"He's a good friend of
mine, and the other guys in
Love And Rockets are good friends of mine
too, but I think he's completely wasting his time in that
group. It seems to me to be completely about making
money... he's capable of doing something worthwhile. I just
hate these people who do pop music for money, or for the
sake of their ego or to be loved or something - it's
pathetic, what's the matter with these people? David's
selling himself short by behaving like this kind of nitwits,
by being in a group like that. On the other hand, I'm sure
he really believes in it; I just think he's misguided."
Was there ever any fear that the move to a four-piece band
might change the original direction?
"One of my
principles is that small is beautiful and stay away from the
music business and all this sort of thing, and once you get
a group there is a great danger that you're just doing this
ghastly rock thing, but I think that Max and I are both very
aware of that, that we can avoid it as best we can...
There's a chemistry there which enables us to do more as a
band."
The Jazz Butcher has yet to find a convenient niche in the
UK music "scene": with a sound uniquely its own, the loopy
charm and jazz-influenced guitar that distinguishes them
from their contemporaries led to initial labeling as a
novelty band. Pat agrees:
"That's what happens in the
press because we ridicule their precious pop thing and point
out that it's only part of capitalism. I think it kind of
embarrasses them, and they don't know what to do 'coz we
look one way and sound another, and so forth. They've
finally realised that we're not going to go away, and we
don't just write funny songs either."
Nor does their current tag as a sort of "Lloyd Cole and the
Smiths gone wrong" outfit describe the anomaly:
"I think
that's basically because Lloyd Cole and I are the only two
people with sensible haircuts in the entire industry. I
quite like his music, but to suggest that we're influenced
by him is ridiculous. We just have the same record
collection, probably. And I quite like the Smiths - I like
Morrisey, he's an individual; he can't sing, but he knows
it. It's funny about the Smiths: when we began, everybody
thought we were all ha-ha-ha, and the Smiths began and they
went 'Poor miserable bastards'. But I notice that the
Smiths are getting funnier and funnier, and we're getting
more and more miserable, so maybe we're like passing each
other and waving out the window..."
While one would hardly call the new material "miserable,"
there is a marked shift from earlier material such as
The Jazz Butcher Meets the Prime Minister
to some more introspective, brooding songs (the new
Angels
), and a heightened political awareness and
commentary.
"I don't know that we've actually gotten
more serious", concurs Pat, "but I can see the
Butcher attitude being applied to more serious subjects,
still identified with the way we see it, you know? One
can't write songs about talking elephants all the time."
But what of American audiences, newly introduced to the band
through their first album in this country (Bloody Nonsense, a
compilation of UK album tracks and singles)? Their primary
awareness of the band seems to be through just those kind of
"lighter" songs about talking animals. Take, for example,
LA radio's embracing of
The Devil Is My Friend
. Doesn't this lead the
casual listener to believe that's all J.B. is about?
"If that song gives them 3 minutes of amusement and
contentment, it's better than not having 3 minutes... In a
way it could be frustrating, but there's no point pretending
that's only a minor thing of what we do or dismissing it -
it doesn't mean we're writing it to order; we don't think
'Oh God, we've gotta have another funny song now'... A lot
of the songs are there to ridicule what pop songs are all
about. It's never been tailored to an audience. A lot of
these songs that are just stupid, I just love 'em - you
know, songs like 'Juanita Banana' by the Peels. Whatever
happened to them? I mean, obviously one would get a certain
amount of deep emotional satisfaction from hearing
Girlfriend
or
Angels
on the radio, but I started off doing this
originally thinking that no one was gonna hear it at all.
It;s just that as time goes by we discover that there are
people out there that do like it. What they like is their
business - if they like the stupid songs, I'm delighted to
be of use to them."
This leaves one wondering about the subject matter of some
songs, such as the recurrence of hell and the devil in
several of them. While the approach may be novel, some of
it comes from personal experience, says Pat. Speaking of
The Devil Is My Friend
:
"I saw the devil, you know. It was really scary
- he was enormous. He was the size of fucking Yorkshire,
honestly, he was the size of Kansas. I mean, he was
really big. I saw him on my lawn - I couldn't
believe it. No, I hadn't been taking drugs, and I fucking
saw him. I just knew he'd come for me, and I thought, 'What
the fucking hell am I supposed to do?' I was scared; I gave
it a couple moments' thought and I addressed him: I said
'
Just fuck the fuck off, devil', and he did! It was
brilliant, it was the best thing that ever happened. I
fucking hate the devil.
The Devil Is My Friend
is just a piss-take on a
stupid remark Roky Erickson (to whom the song is dedicated)
made in an interview when he was out of his head, and I just
thought it was too ridiculous to let pass and should be held
up for public ridicule. I mean, I hate the devil, I don't
wanna know him."
Roky's comments notwithstanding, Pat remains a 13th Floor
Elevators fan, belying an affinity for many American bands -
a few of which to whom the Jazz Butcher has often been
likened. Seems rather curious in light of the patently
"quiet sort of English operation" that is the Jazz
Butcher.
"It's weird, an awful lot of my favourite bands are
American: Suicide, the Velvets of course, Talking Heads
before they turned into a yuppie group. There's so many
good American bands. For me, punk began in New York, no
question at all. I mean, Patti Smith - god!"
The Velvet Underground is a constants, and obvious, comparison, given
the similarities in guitar style and cover material such as
Sweet Jane
(Lou Reed)
and Waiting For the Man, but Jonathan Richman?
"He's not an influence. I like him, I cover his songs
(
Roadrunner
(Richman)
,
Affection), we have things in common, but nothing he's
ever done has changed the slightest idea in my mind. But
he's brought me a lot of pleasure and I think we have a
similar approach to things."
What other bands also share their approach?
"The
The Woodentops
go back a long way with us... they certainly have similar
attitudes. Their song 'Do It Anyway' just about sums up the
idea of their group and mine... (In attitude) we see
ourselves as a punk rock group, musically too because we can
do whatever we like. The trouble is, the people who call
themselves punks now have been doing the same thing for 10
years - they're more traditionalists than the bloody thing
that punk came to blow away. Look at the Damned now -
look at them! They look and sound like a heavy metal
group... Kids who call themselves punks are just as
reactionary as most people. But the punk attitude is
all-important, especially in these days. We and a few other
bands like the Pogues are keeping it alive - the
The Woodentops, the
Mary Chain, the June Brides... I like rockabilly, I like
psychobilly, I like every kind of music except heavy metal
or U2. They're just putting their egos and aspirations over
on a bunch of paying people, and I think that's
stupid."
How 'bout any of the bands the Jazz Butcher played with over
here?
"
Downey Mildew - flaming brilliant! Possibly the best
band we've played with. Also, Camper Van Beethoven. We got
on them and understood them very well. The tour's gone much
better than we expected; we haven't had a bad night at
all."
That's certainly evident in the band's recent appearance
here, where they played 2 completely different sets in one
night to a
packed Roxy
crowd. The wait was worth it for the supposed "cult"
following who'd waited long agonizing months before these
shows, and new fans' eager response should encourage them
back to these shores soon, possibly in March. (It should
also indicate that there are quite a few people who don't
mind having their minds overthrown.) Next step in the
Conspiracy master plan:
Distressed Gentlefolk, the just unleashed album.
Visitor Feedback
