Sunday, July 29, 2007
I Made Nick Lowe Laugh
Nick Lowe's new album, "At My Age," and his related media appearances have brought back a memory from high school.
It was 1979, and Lowe was riding high -- on the strength of his own work ("Labour of Lust" was just out, and "Cruel to be Kind" was all over the radio) and on the success of Elvis Costello's "Armed Forces," which Lowe produced and which included his anthem "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding."
Though he was at or near the peak of his American pop fame (and I say that with respect -- his more recent work is wonderful, but hasn't brought him pop stardom), when it came time to play the Bay Area Lowe was booked to sit for a couple of hours in a Record Factory store (remember those?) in Concord, California one afternoon and sign records. (Today's teenagers who watch "This Is Spinal Tap" don't realize that big-name musicians really used to do this -- sit on folding chairs behind card tables, shake hands, and sign autographs for all comers.) My friend John Summers really, really wanted to go, and because John didn't drive at the time, he recruited me to go with him.
John worshipped Nick Lowe, and didn't just bring one record to sign. He brought several, as well as a guitar strap to autograph and even a guitar pick to initial. (Actually, it was probably a bass pick.) Lowe was a bit amused but polite as he signed the stuff and I snapped John's picture with him. I was next in line.
I walked up and pretended to pluck a hair from my head. "Could you sign this?" I asked, holding out the imaginary hair. Lowe chuckled. Then, taking my copy of "Labour of Lust," he asked, "What do you want it to say?" Maybe he was just trying to buy some rest time after autographing all of John's stuff.
"Write something different," I responded, because he had been signing most albums the same way. "Maybe, 'IOU ten percent of gross receipts for this album.'"
Lowe laughed heartily, and then wrote out this lovely contract. Someday I'll send my lawyers after him.
It was 1979, and Lowe was riding high -- on the strength of his own work ("Labour of Lust" was just out, and "Cruel to be Kind" was all over the radio) and on the success of Elvis Costello's "Armed Forces," which Lowe produced and which included his anthem "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding."
Though he was at or near the peak of his American pop fame (and I say that with respect -- his more recent work is wonderful, but hasn't brought him pop stardom), when it came time to play the Bay Area Lowe was booked to sit for a couple of hours in a Record Factory store (remember those?) in Concord, California one afternoon and sign records. (Today's teenagers who watch "This Is Spinal Tap" don't realize that big-name musicians really used to do this -- sit on folding chairs behind card tables, shake hands, and sign autographs for all comers.) My friend John Summers really, really wanted to go, and because John didn't drive at the time, he recruited me to go with him.
John worshipped Nick Lowe, and didn't just bring one record to sign. He brought several, as well as a guitar strap to autograph and even a guitar pick to initial. (Actually, it was probably a bass pick.) Lowe was a bit amused but polite as he signed the stuff and I snapped John's picture with him. I was next in line.
I walked up and pretended to pluck a hair from my head. "Could you sign this?" I asked, holding out the imaginary hair. Lowe chuckled. Then, taking my copy of "Labour of Lust," he asked, "What do you want it to say?" Maybe he was just trying to buy some rest time after autographing all of John's stuff.
"Write something different," I responded, because he had been signing most albums the same way. "Maybe, 'IOU ten percent of gross receipts for this album.'"
Lowe laughed heartily, and then wrote out this lovely contract. Someday I'll send my lawyers after him.
