Funky Chicken
The tour manager for John Cale also runs a thrift shop on Third Avenue, over near the Rodeo Bar. He got a call last year to stop by and help Cale clear out some old junk. A lot of stuff was packed up to go over to the store. This included an old viola case that-as was discovered back at the shop-turned out to contain an actual viola. Thinking that Cale might have fond memories of playing the instrument with the Velvet Underground, the guy called up Cale to assure him that the viola had been safely set aside.
Cale replied that it was okay to sell the viola, since he didn't really need one nowadays. There's a clue as to how Cale's continuing an impressive comeback with this year's blackAcetate:. The bizarre, brooding, and beat-happy album has even finally landed him back on a stateside major label. Unlike many of his aging contemporaries, Cale has effortlessly committed himself to continual growth as an artist.
This also explains why Cale is the kind of musical icon who you don't see at various overhyped shows, making a desperate search for some kind of new idea. In fact, some of us have never seen Cale out anywhere.
"I'm not a social person," Cale explains from Los Angeles. "I have a place in Midtown, but I go out to the Hamptons in summertime. What's happened recently is that I started to record in L.A., and after the recording, I just went on tour. I'm still in the middle of that. I won't be spending any time in New York after this month's show. Anyway, the work is what's important to me."
The latest spate of quality work began with 2003's 5 Tracks EP, as released as an import on the EMI label. That was followed the same year by HoboSapiens, which was full of strong songs restrained by technology. blackAcetate:, however, begins with the all-too-human sound of Cale singing in funky falsetto. The rest is a surprising return to what was once a typical mix of gorgeous ethereal moments and primal rock pounding. If blackAcetate: has a hip-hop influence, it probably helps that thug life is a natural match for Cale's own history of dark thoughts. The new album's modern setting contrasts the return of classic Cale as disturbed narrator-or, if you will, a really great pulp novelist.
"It depends on who the pulp novelist is," laughs Cale, "but I don't mind the comparison. Rock 'n roll has always been about telling stories, and there's such a variety of stories. It's really excellent. In terms of hip-hop, there was an article in the L.A. Times about two months ago asking if hip-hop wasn't the new jazz. It might well be. I think the stories are actually in the language."
blackAcetate: has the underpinnings to support Cale's professed admiration for Dre, Pharell, Gorillaz, and more. This doesn't mean that Cale has turned into a rap star on the level of Dee Dee Ramone-and he's certainly aware that a 63-year-old Welshman is looking for trouble when he cites those younger influences.
"I have a well-honed sense of what makes me uncomfortable," Cale explains, "and I try to make sense of it. I knew I was onto something when writing 'Hush' on this new album. There's no bass, and these funky drums-it felt like a small milestone. It was sort of the exotic sound of HoboSapiens, but much more basic and minimal. When you take risks like that, you end up with something that's very much of your own."
This also allows fannish interviewers the luxury of talking to Cale without having to dwell on his past achievements-which is just as well. "The past doesn't interest me," Cale notes, and scoffingly adds, "They're still trying to find more material to release as a Velvet Underground album."
Which brings us to the used viola that meant so little to a member of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
At first, Cale figures it's just another neat story from his tour manager. "He finds strange things in many places," says Cale. "There was a bordello in Midtown that he was cleaning out. The woman there told him to let her know if he found any money. He thought that was strange, but he soon discovered that it was, um, a former whorehouse-and he found in one room a box of vinyl albums that had Frank Sinatra and the Banana album."
That's interesting, but what about casually getting rid of a viola that belonged to an important musical figure?
Cale gives this some thought: "Well, I thought someone else might need it more than I do. It probably didn't have any historical significance. I had three of them."