Interview: Stuart Adamson, Big Country

Have BIG COUNTRY dropped their folk roots for rock n' roll, why is Big Country's front man Stuart Adamson wearing 501s, and who the blazes is PJ O'Rourke anyway? Alan McCrorie investigates...

SHAKE RATTLE & ROLL

There must be something in the water around the Fife town of Dunfermline. Steeped in over a Millennium of Scottish history, Dunfermline was once the seat of Scottish Kings, and many here still refer to it as the 'Kingdom of Fife,' as if the nobility hadn't fled south to Edinburgh or the climes of London after the Industrial Revolution. Sitting comfortably near the River Forth Dunfermline has been the source of many a great export - Andrew Carnegie, for example. There's also been the coalfields and, for those very long in the tooth, a football team that once dominated the game before Glasgow's two 'Old Firm' rivals swallowed 'our national game' with a wash of green and yellow, red, white, and blue.

Happily, Dunfermline has managed to hold its own as far as music is concerned. Two names always come to the fore when you're talking about rock in Dunfermline -- NAZARETH and the subject of my trek across the Forth, Big Country themselves.

Big Country have recently launched their much-awaited 6th album No Place Like Home on Phonogram. It's a little bit of an eye opener in some respects, with a healthy dose of Delta-Blues-inspired boogie coursing through the usual Celtic-tinged blood of the band's music.

Talking to Big Country's eminently likeable frontman, Stuart Adamson, in the town's Pittencrieff Park on a beautiful late summer afternoon drops into surrealism on the odd occasion. The band are warming up for a fan club convention, something Stuart describes as "a very American thing to do." Whilst Big Country's other guitarist Bruce Watson can be heard strangling the 'bejaisus' out of his gear during the sound cheque at the nearby art deco Glen Pavilion, sedate old ladies are taking in the tableau in their stride and John Cleese is nowhere to be seen.

No Place Like Home features the drumming talents of Mark Brzezicki, who has departed the band only to return as a session player. Settling on a working drummer after Mark's decision not to sign up full time was something obviously close to Stuart's heart.

"It was Mark's usual situation of not knowing whether he wanted to be in the band or not," he sighed. "He was full of promises about he was going to do the tour and this and that, just the same as always, and then he went off to do other things. To be quite honest with you, they got to the stage where I'd just had enough of that. last thing I heard was that he was working with PROCUL HARUM."

One reflection Stuart feels Big Country couldn't put on with a lack of commitment.

"To me, you're either in a group or out of it."

So, who were the troupers sawing away on stage as we spoke?

"Apart from the nucleus of myself, Bruce, and Tony Butler (bassist) there's Chris Bell on drums. Chris has played with GENE LOVES JEZEBEL in the past. Our keyboard player is Colin Berwick, who's worked with the BIG DISH."

The flagship single for the launch of No Place Like Home was "Republican Party Reptile," a number that romps through CANNED HEAT country and hangs on a very simple beat. It's hardly the Big Country we've come to know, and it stopped a few people in their tracks. Did this ring any big changes within the band?

"As time goes on, you learn to express yourself in different ways," explained Stuart. "There was no conscious effort to change the sound of the band. We've always been very much a rock band with guitars, bass, and drums. That's the way we started out, and that's how we are today. Possibly at the moment, we're using our folk roots more than the folk side of things," he continued, "but it's still very much the same attitudes and ideas that are going in there. With 'Reptile,' those elements that have always been there have come to the fore."

Did this mean they'll have found themselves a new audience who before may not have taken the time to listen to Big Country?

"It's very difficult to say. I never sit down and tailor what I write for a certain audience. I write songs, I don't market them. For me, the motive is to write music that will stand up over time, whether or not it's as part of a rock band or has a piano player in singer."

Of course, there were few better satirical writers to pick up on than PJ O'Rourke, the mind behind "Republican Party Reptile."

"I read a lot of his stuff in National Lampoon and Rolling Stone. I'm a big fan of American humour, and when they released 'Holidays in Hell' and 'Republican Party Reptile' over here. I bought them both," said Stuart.

O'Rourke, whose "Parliament of Whores" has recently also escaped over here, is a mad amalgam of Hunter S. Thompson and Norman Mailer. He's also further testament to the Irish American pragmatist in politics, as Stuart comments:

"He comes from a completely different point of view from me, but I just love his character, the politician who is just whacked out and is into it for all the scams, extortion, and corrupt practises he can get his hands on."

Sound familiar people? Whoever coined the phrase, "Democracy is the worship of the jackal by the jackass" was probably reading O'Rourke.

And what of No Place Like Home? Where does it stand in relation to Big Country material of the past?

"At the time of the Peace In Our Time album, I said that I'd never relinquish that much control over a record I was involved with again. We'd wanted to work with a straight-down-the-line producer who would have a hand in all aspects of the album, including arrangements and instrumentation, and I don't really think it worked for us at all. I personally felt far too removed from the record, and, although I still enjoy a lot of the songs on the album, I think the production's absolutely horrible -- it's too smooth. We wanted an album that would have us all getting involved," Stuart recalled, "an album that would reflect the band as we are just now, and having the gap between Peace In Our Time and the present album filled with the Greatest Hits album, it gave us space to re-examine our inspirations and establish just what our motives were being involved in music are -- and, of course, to re-fire our enthusiasm!"

And so to the point...

"I'm very pleased with the album, in fact, I'm chuffed, ecstatic. It's the best we can possibly make at this stage in our career, and I like to think we're still capable of doing a lot better."

Did bringing the harder edge of Big Country to the fore uncover any other unscratched itches?

"I'd love to do a country record (swoon!) or an out-and-out folk record (OhmyGawd!). But I honestly prefer loud guitar music because that's what I was brought up with. I would like to do another film score, like Restless Natives," he said. "I'm not into just one song for a movie that's picked up as a promotional vehicle for that movie."

Of course, it's unfortunate that one of the few ways to get rock across to the "numpties" (an ancient Caledonian phrase, Mr Editor) of this world is to link it to a product.

"Yeah, sure," he said thoughtfully, "it seems that the home of guitar rock is in marketing at the moment, and I have to worry about that. I should talk, though. I mean, we were involved in a beer advert, for God's sake! But at this moment in time it's just another fashion accessory, you've got your copy of GQ, your 501s, your MARC BOLAN retrospective, your CLASH records..."

A lot of what has kept Big Country refreshing, to these ears at least, is the lyrical input of their albums. No Place Like Home is no different. "We're Not in Kansas" is that famous line from the Wizard of Oz and the title of a song that paints a picture of change:

"That song was written from the point of view of looking around not really knowing what's going on," said Stuart. "It also has a lot to do with being part of something and not feeling a part of it too. I think, at times, you have to sit back and keep all your senses as alert as possible to change," he went on.

"I look at all the changes that have gone on in this area ever since I was a kid." he said, waving his hands expansively. "It's not just stuff like Rosyth (the naval dockyard at the centre of a closure row and recently reprieved with a much depleted staff) but the coal mines and stuff. The villages have changed, industry has changed, there's very little heavy industry left in Fife now. There's the dockyard and I think they're still building up at Methil (oil rig fabrication), but mostly it's gone, and that's what I'm saying through 'Kansas.'"

Odd then that the likes of Big Country haven't sought refuge in strong nationalist sentiments for their adopted Scotland

"Well..." breathes Stewart hesitantly before collecting his thoughts. "The thing I like to take from Scotland is the literature. I'm a big fan of Hugh McDiarmid, and I really appreciate the ideas he had of a modern, outward-looking, and progressive Scotland, a Scotland which, although it was aware and proud of its roots and culture, doesn't blind itself through misplaced nationalism and misty-eyed sentimentality. It pushes its culture outwards and doesn't cling jealously to the past. I hope what I do gets across to people. I know it does, especially in North America and Europe, but sometimes, particularly with English people, they still fire the 'bagpipe guitars, kilts and tartan' at me, and it really gets on my fuckin' onions, to be honest with you -- I think it's racist."

For a bunch of globetrotters, Big Country seemed like a close-knit outfit who value their families and friends. I could be wrong but there did seem to be a lot of Bruce Watson's relations wandering around the Pavilion. Was a modicum of sanity important in the often bullshit-loaded world of rock, in which they work? It seems so.

"About a year and a half ago, a guy whom I was really close to emigrated to Australia, and he came back a while ago and stopped while he was here. All the lads I used to kick around with in my early teenage years got back together and had a really good time, and, again, we haven't seen each other since. I've just been thinking about how you can diversify, but there's still something between people that's special," he smiles. That's what 'Beautiful People' says. It really says that I couldn't give a hoot what people are like, because it's what goes on between them that I think is important, it's how you can learn to appreciate what people really are."

One of the ironies about the release of No Place Like Home is that it contains a very topical song about the hostage situation in the Middle East and is issued in the wake of the setting free of John McCarthy after five years in captivity.

"The actual song 'The Hostage Speaks' was written about a year and a half ago. It was one of the first songs we demoed for the album," said Stuart. "It came about because my father works in Saudi Arabia (He's a marine engineer, and there's just no work for him in Scotland) and it was interesting talking to him; as he works among Arab people, and he gave me a perspective on the situation. The songs like a film script about how these people are being held captive in the Middle East, we're holding them hostage here too by placing all that media and political attention on them. Everyone's there to make sure their wee bit carries," said Stuart with a note of sarcasm. "The politicians are always there when there's a release, and it just talks about that whole thing, how people are dragged off the street and slammed into gaol."

Not to let the subject go quietly, Stuart rounds on the Westminster Mandarins.

"We abuse it as well, you know. It's either ignored or it's used as propaganda for our government, so we're just as guilty of it as anybody else. Ever remember internment without trial in Northern Ireland? It can happen on the mainland. That sus law thing where they can bang you up for 12 hours without charge, that seems a bit much to me. We think we have a lot of freedoms, but a lot of these basic things are actually denied to us, but it's nothing like it was when we went out to the Soviet Union."

You might recall that in 1989 Big Country came to the attention of the world media by being the first Western act to play privately promoted gigs in the USSR. Two years down the road and it looks as if the whole shebang has been turned on its head. What were Stewart's thoughts on the matter?

"I think this just had to happen. The whole thing's been building up. You have a whole generation of people whose wants, needs, ambitions, and emotions were being totally ignored. We're talking about millions upon millions of people here. The younger folk were aware of the fact that things for their peers in the West were very very different."

Stuart remembers:

"It was strange talking to people. Tthey wouldn't believe us about the National Health Service. They didn't believe that the USSR and Nazi Germany had made a non-aggression pact before World War II. It was a chapter wiped from their history. A lot of things like that. They had the basics but nothing was maintained, it was like, here's ten pence, go and phone some one who gives a fuck. I'd love to go back now with all the changes and meet the people we met back then. I think it would be great to do it."

In an odd sort of way, Stuart turns the conversation back to the LP, and "Ships" and "Comes a Time" in particular.

"It's hard to describe what it's about." His furrowed brow says it all. "Basically it's about saying to someone, I could have used some help here, while 'Comes a Time' is another 'stream of conscience,'" he laughs. "It's describing the clashes of separate cultures, how people and communities collide like the plates of the Earth," he said smacking his hands together, "about how things that were once very separate are now coming together. Again, it's back to that theme of change."

With that, Stuart wandered off back to the Pavilion and the melee of band members, road crew, and film technicians there to record the day's events. I must be honest when I say that it makes one hell of a difference to my job when I can talk to folk like Stuart Adamson, someone with an opinion to air and the grace to air it without being a politician!

Alan McCrorie
Riff Raff
October 1991