A grungy industrial backlot on the outer edges of Hollywood is no place to be if you`re a rock star worried about your image. But, then, the guys in Was (Not Was) never have been particularly bothered by such mundane considerations.
”I don`t think we have an image,” says David Was (alias David Weiss, who writes the band`s ironic, barbed lyrics and plays flute and keyboards).
”No one knows where the hell we are.”
”Our last record company called us `a marketing nightmare,` ” adds Don Was (alias Donald Fagenson, who writes the music, produces the records and plays bass and guitar). ”They said our line-up and our music were
`unacceptable,` ” he reports proudly.
It`s easy to see why. Standing in front of some psychedelic graffiti that appropriately echoes their own eccentric, eclectic musical vision (one that gives equal billing to rock/funk/pop/jazz and dance rhythms), Was (Not Was) is indeed a bizarre sight. Don and David, looking casually hip, join arms with the other two members, lead vocalists and snappy dressers Sweet Pea Atkinson and Sir Harry Bowens, and all four grin wildly for the photographer.
Despite their disparate cultural and ethnic backgrounds and ages (Don and David are Jewish kids from Detroit; Sir Harry and Sweet Pea are veteran R & B performers), and all the record company executives who said it could never happen, the mismatched foursome is having the last laugh.
Their new album, entitled, in true Was (Not Was) style, ”What`s Up, Dog?” (”It`s a greeting for murderers and presidents alike,” explains David), is currently storming up the charts in hot pursuit of the group`s first hit single, ”Spy In the House of Love” (recently No. 1 on the Billboard dance charts).
”Needless to say, it was a big hit in Europe first,” says Don, ”but we`re not bitter about the fact that it has taken us eight years to get noticed in our own country. We kind of like the fact that we`re getting re-exported back home. After all, this time we actually began to accept the idea that we were destined to fall between the cracks, so all this sudden success has taken us a bit by surprise.”
”Yeah, we`ve often been accused of being ahead of our time, so the fact that this album sat on the shelf for nearly three years seems to have put us right on schedule,” adds David, only half jokingly.
Was (Not Was) has been working to its own schedule since Don and David first formed the band back in 1980 in their native Detroit. ”We were inspired by an equal love for jazz and Motown, hard rock and funk, and our sound and approach is definitely the result of growing up in Detroit,” says Don. ”It was a real musical crossroads, and our heroes were everyone from Miles Davis and John Coltrane to Frank Zappa, The Temptations and Bob Dylan.”
”And you can throw in a few classical guys like Bartok and bluesmen like Muddy Waters and B. B. King,” adds David. ”Detroit was a real melting pot, so it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to us to hire two great R & B singers to front the band. That`s how we hooked up with Sweet Pea and Sir Harry.”
Sweet Pea, it transpires, is a country boy from Ohio and a former auto worker who toiled at the Chrysler plant for, as he puts it, ”11 of the damndest years.” Sir Harry (”It`s not a real title,” he confesses) toured extensively with the O`Jays as a keyboardist/vocalist. Both were initially hesitant when asked to join.
”I thought they were crazy, but once I started listening to their cracked lyrics, I began to see that there was a method to their madness,”
recalls Sir Harry. ”It kind of grew on me, and then I couldn`t stop singing the songs.”
Sweet Pea is blunter. ”I just thought, `This stuff is real sick, real warped. I can`t sing this kind of stuff. It ain`t my style.` ”
”Yeah, Don saw him sucking some rum off of a broken glass in an alley and thought, `This is a man with soul,` ” shoots back David, before adding seriously, ”but the whole deal with this group is not an act. What you are seeing are two guys whose will to entertain an audience is based on their desperation. This is their shot. They`re not doing this `cause they`re young and don`t know what else to do with their lives-this band is their lives, and that`s what soul music is all about.”
If Don and David were fully committed to their vocalists, it was a different story over at Geffen Records, who signed the band in 1982 after the release of their critically acclaimed but commercially ignored self-titled 1981 debut album. ”I think they just wanted us to lend a little street credibility to a label that was based on acts like Asia and Quarterflash,”
says Don. ”It wasn`t exactly a marriage made in heaven.”
After releasing one album, 1983`s ”Born To Laugh At Tornados,” which featured such wide-ranging guest artists as Ozzy Osbourne, Mel Torme and Mitch Ryder, Geffen Records presented Was (Not Was) with an ultimatum-get rid of the black singers and go back to making straight-ahead rock `n` roll.
”Unfortunately, we couldn`t do either,” explains David mildly, ”and after we presented them with an early version of `What`s Up, Dog?` they basically told us to get out and we said fine. We then spent the next two years wrangling with lawyers, but it all worked out OK `cause we got picked up by Chrysalis Records and were able to redo about half the album.”
The result is the band`s most accessible record to date, ranging from the polished dance rhythms of ”Spy In The House of Love” and ”Anytime Lisa” to the pop sheen of ”Anything Could Happen.” ”But we kept plenty of room for experimenting,” adds David, who collaborated with Elvis Costello on the lyrics to ”Shadow & Jimmy,” and Marshall Crenshaw on the words to ”Love Can Be Bad Luck.” ”Neither was really planned. I just happened to run into Elvis in Tower Records and we started writing, and then I figured I`d never see him again. But he was a man of his word, and we wrote the song in a day. Not bad for a $40 investment, huh?”
Far more bizarre than songwriting collaborations with the likes of Costello is the appearance of a bona-fide Las Vegas crooner in the shape of Frank Sinatra Jr. ”We`d written this real glitzy number called `Wedding Vows In Vegas,` and we needed just the right kind of Vegas voice to pull it off,” explains Don. ”We initially approached Sammy Davis Jr., but unfortunately he was going into the hospital for his hipness-excuse me, his hip operation, and was unable to help out.”
In any event, Frank Sinatra Jr. came to the rescue. ”We played him the song, and he immediately understood that we were trying to capture that pathos and world-weariness that only guys who spend years in a lounge can communicate,” Don continues. ”He was certainly able to relate to the lyric, and I think he appreciated the opportunity to sing a pop song that wasn`t
`We`re Alone Now.` ”
”I just don`t know if he`ll be able to hit the road with us,” quips David who, along with the other three permanent members, and four more musicians, will be undertaking Was (Not Was)`s first major U.S. tour later this year. ”It`s real exciting-it`s like we`re a proper band that people can actually come and see live for the first time. We haven`t really done a show in something like six years-not that we haven`t been busy,” he`s quick to add.
”In fact, during our down time, I`ve been writing a musical, and Don has been off producing the B52s and a new album for Bonnie Raitt. Now, of course, we`re very much in demand,” David says, his voice dripping with scorn. ”All the people who ignored us before are now eagerly trying to have lunch with us. Still, you can`t complain-that`s the nature of the business. Everyone loves a winner.”
”And lunch,” adds Don. ”I`ve always maintained, if you want to know something about music, call UCLA`s music department. If you want to know where to go for a good lunch, call some guy at a record company.”
