Rick Springfield had packed his gold and platinum records in a storage shed at his Malibu, Calif. home. A few years ago, when heavy coastal rains flooded the shed, the records, according to the eternally spry 56-year-old musician, “were pretty much trashed. They’re all mildewed and falling apart.” But for Springfield, it was a c’est-la-vie moment.
He had never hung up the accolades in the first place.
After all, they were just trophies from his past–like the Grammy he picked up in 1981 for “Best Male Vocal Performance,” for the power-pop sing-along “Jessie’s Girl.” Springfield gave the Grammy to his mother.
“I’m very proud of [Jessie’s Girl,]” he says. “It’s the closest thing I’ve ever written to a standard, I guess.” And when Springfield appears on TV, performing on the “Today” show or “Good Morning America,” he proves the point, unabashedly trotting out “Jessie’s Girl” with precision.
“Honestly, I kind of whore it out a little bit–`I’ll play this if you let me play my new stuff.'”
Springfield will undoubtedly play the tune yet again when he performs Friday at the Genesee Theater in Waukegan, and Saturday at the Star Plaza Theatre in Merrillville, Ind. After a long break in the 1990s, he now tours constantly, doing about 100 shows a year–many of which bring him to the Chicago area (his wife is from Beloit, Wisc.)
He’ll also play songs from his latest disc, “The Day After Yesterday” (Gomer/DKE). It’s a collection of “atmospheric ballad” covers such as 10cc’s “I’m Not in Love” and the Church’s “Under the Milky Way.” Springfield describes them as “songs I wish I had written.”
Though it’s in vogue to do thematic cover albums these days (just ask Michael McDonald), Springfield maintains he took on his latest project as a self-imposed breather from writing as a sort of musical therapy.
Yes, Rick Springfield can be musically mature–and has been for some time.
But because of the towering success of that ubiquitous No. 1 song he did write, along with a three-year stint as Dr. Noah Drake on the soap opera “General Hospital” (the kiss of credibility death when it came to rock critics), much of Springfield’s long and often impressive music career has been unfairly overshadowed. But count the numbers: more than 18 million records sold, 17 top-40 hits, five of those landing in the top 10.
Born in Sydney, Australia as Richard Lewis Springthorpe in 1949, Springfield was performing for U.S. troops in Vietnam before he had turned 20. A few years later, in 1971, he recorded the solo track, “Speak to the Sky,” a top-10 hit in Australia. This boost persuaded the young pop singer/songwriter to try his luck on American shores. Throughout the 1970s, while living in Los Angeles, he took the rather unorthodox approach of seeking an acting career to support himself as he continued to chase the musician’s dream.
The move worked. Springfield landed bit parts on such memorable TV cult classics as “The Rockford Files,” “Wonder Woman,” and “Battlestar Galactica.”
By 1981, Springfield had signed a recording contract with RCA. But as he recorded the solo album “Working Class Dog,” the disc’s release was jeopardized due to wrangling over the cover art (Springfield, who wanted a dog dressed in a shirt and tie, won out.) At the same time, he scored a regular role on “General Hospital”–in the midst of the “Luke and Laura” frenzy.
“I was offered the first serious money I’d ever seen in my life to do [“General Hospital”] so I went ahead and did it,” Springfield says.
His star skyrocketed on daytime TV. But in the back of his mind, Springfield knew that his soap-opera image could hinder what was shaping up to be a solid rock effort, full of driving Fender guitars, catchy melodies and songs about girls–classic power pop fare, all.
When “Working Class Dog” was released, it became a multiplatinum pop smash, serving up, along with “Jessie’s Girl,” the Sammy Hagar-penned “I’ve Done Everything for You,” as well as the feel-good rock stomp “Love is Alright Tonight.”
But to rock critics too cool to embrace anything mainstream (and rock fans too hardened to pump their fists in the air for a soap opera hunk), Springfield had acquired himself a bona-fide stigma that, in some ways, persists to this day.
“Every time we play,” he says, “guys come up and say, `God, I didn’t know you rocked so hard,’ and I can see the evil seeds of `General Hospital’ sewn in the back of their brains.”
Buoyed by the huge success of “Working Class Dog” and its shiny pop follow-up, “Success Hasn’t Spoiled Me Yet,” Springfield left “General Hospital” in 1983. That same year, he released “Living in Oz,” a record showcasing a new synth-heavy direction and his seemingly endless reserve of melodic song hooks, a thundering cannonade of danceable drum loops and jolting rock guitars.
Perhaps even more imperceptible to the naysayers who still couldn’t get over the soap opera past were Springfield’s increasingly honest and introspective lyrics that hinted at a host of inner demons.
“When it comes to respect from the music industry and from his peers,” says producer Bill Drescher, who worked with Springfield on several albums including “Oz,” “he always fought that, because he was too good looking.” Drescher, who has produced INXS, the Bangles and Ringo Starr, says that Springfield’s old “Tiger Beat” image is off the mark. “He’s much, much more than that.”
Throughout the ’80s, Springfield continued to pen more three-minute pop hits, including 1984’s “Love Somebody,” while continuing to create deeper material, such as 1985’s “Tao,” which featured the single “Celebrate Youth,” and the record-closing track, “My Father’s Chair,” a song about the night Springfield’s father died.
In the 1990s, a motorcycle accident sidelined Springfield–and the Nirvana era had descended. This was no landscape for a former teen idol. Springfield spent a good part of the decade as a self-described recluse, rarely leaving home, visiting shrink offices to work on those inner demons, spending time with his wife of 21 years and raising his two sons.
“It’s kind of an odd period,” Springfield says, reflecting on his years outside of the limelight. “And one that, if you’re unlucky, you never pull yourself out of. But I had a great family and was determined not to let it end there.”
Springfield adds that he still has a hunger as a creator, chalking up his drive to the same reason he never hung his gold and platinum records on the walls. “I’ve never looked back. I’m never satisfied. I don’t want to get complacent.”
By 1999, Springfield re-emerged from his self-imposed exile with the requisite episode of VH-1’s “Behind the Music,” and the hugely under-rated album “Karma,” which showed he had lost none of his pop chops. The record also continued his leaning towards introspection, examining themes of love and spirituality. And after his long hiatus, Springfield hit the road, finding that his legion of followers from the ’80s had not forgotten him.
Since then, he has performed to more than a million people, a fan base comprised largely of Gen-X women who grew up listening to him and adoring his poster-boy charm, and guys who connected to his deeper take on the power-pop genre.
“He really has a rock edge to his pop tunes, which is a hard thing to do,” says Springfield bassist Matt Bissonette, also a prominent L.A. session musician who has played with Electric Light Orchestra, Don Henley and Brian Wilson. “And he says things lyrically in his music that are really relevant to what’s going on his life. His songs really stand up.”
And now, with the cover album, “The Day After Yesterday,” this pop icon, long pigeonholed as simply an ’80s rocker, ironically puts his own spin on a collection of tunes largely culled from the 1980s. He’s at peace with his past while, he adds, “staying true to my muse.”
Rick Springfield
When: 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday
Where: Genesee Theatre, 203 N. Genesee St., Waukegan (Friday) and Star Plaza Theatre, 8001 Delaware Pl., Merrillville, Ind. (Saturday)
Price: $30-$60 (Friday), 847-263-6300; $35 (Saturday), 219-769-6600
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onthetown@tribune.com
