The Prague Post Hotel booking
March 18th, 2010
Prague Property

Sweet inspiration

John Cale spins the dial from Dr. Dre to Bartók

By Darrell Jónsson
For The Prague Post
March 15, 2006

The ageless Cale played a strong set at Archa that ranged from hard-driving rock 'n' roll to ballads that featured him on keyboards or viola.

Welsh-born composer and producer John Cale, well-known for his work with the Velvet Underground, has developed a strong cult following during his subsequent 30 years as a solo artist. This is especially true in the Czech Republic, as evinced by the enthusastic reception he received at Archa Theater last week.

Before Cale and his band hit the stage, the audience was treated to a prerecorded ambient composition built on rugged electronic viola loops. This segued into "Venus in Furs," a crowd-pleaser that immediately reaffirmed Cale as a primary force of drone-driven, minimalist rock. The electric guitar-driven sound that dominated the rest of the evening was effective, especially with the occasional falsetto choruses, though not exactly in line with the fuller dynamics of Cale's recent recordings. With a dose of perfectly executed ballads and few experimental moments, though, there was variety to be had.

The Prague Post caught up with Cale before the show while he was en route from Vienna. Over the phone he was jovial, shifting slightly between Welsh and New York City accents. In concert at Archa, Cale showed why he remains a pioneering musical force.

The Prague Post: Has the line between what is considered highbrow and lowbrow in the rock and classical worlds changed since you started your career?

John Cale: It is a line I don't want to walk on [laughs].

TPP: You produced Patti Smith's first groundbreaking LP back in the '70s. Is it true that that some Welsh ranters you heard in your childhood prepared you for the task?

JC: That was the preachers. Patti had this sort of Pentecostal fire in her belly, and when that comes out I'm reminded of the Welsh ministers that used to come around. Two times a year they would come to the local church and deliver sermons in Welsh. And it would be just like the fiery Pentecostal sermons you find in the [American] South. It would start with a text and then eventually they would be declaiming. Then they would start singing, just blasting away, getting carried away. So it was very similar. And I like that fire anyway, because when she's inspired it's always a good feeling.

It's a tradition that's still around, by the way. Back in 1972, [music critic and author] Richard Williams wanted me to take a field unit and record some of [the Welsh preachers]. I never got around to doing it, but there are still people that pay attention to it on Welsh radio.

TPP: Being born during World War II, do you find that wartime childhood experiences influenced the music of your generation in any way?

JC: The only thing I can think of is that everybody who came out of London looked so scrawny. I think it's because there wasn't any milk during the war. Everybody was drinking canned milk, which affected the bone structure of everyone that came out of our generation. I don't know if World War II artistically influenced musicians, but physically all them were as skinny as links.

TPP: Starting with "The Gift" on Velvet Underground's White Light/White Heat LP, and continuing with "Brotherman" on your recent blackAcetate CD, you like to pepper your recordings with spoken word tracks. What new literary influences have you found in your reading?

JC: Not so much in reading lately. I've been listening to [Dr.] Dre and 50 Cent, and there are some things going on rhythmically and with the lyrics of those guys — they are just really tricky. And they are exciting, and really astonishing in a way that language can actually flow like that.

TPP: Do you find inspiration in their word craft or the content?

JC: The word craft is a rhythmic thing. When I listened to Dre [and 50 Cent] on Massacre, I thought, I couldn't sing along with this if you paid me. I mean, because of the style, rhythm and the way the delivery is. It's really unique, and it's great, because what it does is expand the language. You know, when I was growing up I'd never call anybody a bitch. That was one of the nastiest words you could have used. Now, I can call somebody a bitch as a term of endearment.

TPP: What do you find inspiring in Central or Eastern Europe?

JC: The other night we were in Vienna. They have this complex of theaters in the state theater, and in one part of the complex they were doing Bartók's Mandarin, and it was gorgeous. We were downstairs, outside the dressing rooms, wandering around the corridors trying to find an M-Audio [digital/audio interface] so we could sample some of it. Because it was rolling down the halls and I mean, it was really great. Definitely, Bartók [is an inspiration]. I mean, when you think that this guy actually wrote all that stuff down ... Today we try to improvise it and we're happy if we even come close. But this guy sat down and wrote it — that is an Olympian task.

Darrell Jónsson can be reached at tempo@praguepost.com







The Prague Post Online contains a selection of articles that have been printed in
The Prague Post, a weekly newspaper published in the Czech Republic.
To subscribe to the print paper, click here.
Unauthorized reproduction is strictly prohibited.