Mike DeCapite: This
whole Ubu story has been told through David's point of view, which is
sort of devised in retrospect. I'm just curious how much of what you
were doing was organic to yourselves and came out of living on Prospect
where you were and the times you were living in and how much of it came
out of influences. How much was conscious and how much was unconscious?
Tony Maimone: At
the time when we first started, I know that I was listening to a lot of
different music with my friends, who all lived in that building with me.
Peter lived across the hall, and we were always listening to Bob Dylan
or Jimmy Cliff or Bob Marley or Howlin' Wolf, and this is just on Peter's
end. Lots of Eddie Cochran from Peter.
Really?
Peter was really
into songs. He was into a bit of experimental shit, but he was really
into songs. And he was writing for Cream magazine, so he was getting a
ton of records. I remember sitting around and listening to Rory Gallagher,
or when those Springstien albums came out he came over and said, "There's
this really weird guy, man, and you gotta check him out." And he
wrote out the chords for "I Came for You" and we were pounding
that out on the piano.
We went up to his sister-in-law's place and got this beautiful piano and
brought it back to his place and…
Wait---you got a
piano and brought it back to his place?
Yeah, we brought
it down to his place in the back of his truck. And I remember I was driving
down Cedar Hill and Peter was in the back singing "Tangled Up in
Blue" at the piano, bouncing back and forth. I'll never forget him
singing "I CAME FOR YOU---FOR YOU--- FOR YOU" like Richard Hell…
Anyway, Peter was a pretty big influence on me---all the music we listened
to together. And his wife, Charlotte, was really into Eno and classical
music. You'd go over to his house and the turntable would just be on,
with all these people playing different kinds of music. And when Patty
Smith's first records started coming out that blew everybody away, and
of course the Television record blew everybody away.
Right but I'm talking
about earlier than that---you guys were already involved in Ubu before
that Television record came out, weren't you?
Right but I remember
that really strongly----all of those people were listening to all that…
Everybody was into Roxy Music. And right below Peter is where Scott lived.
I'd go down there and listen to even more with him. I used to listen to
music with Scott, like, way back in '71. We had a house on 23rd…
Oh really? I didn't
know that.
Yeah, we had this
big house between 23rd and Page, just one block over from…
Wait, how'd you
even know him?
Oh, just because
I'd visited his house, which was like a house full of musicians.
Were you playing
anything then?
No I wasn't, I
was just drifting. What was I doing back then? I think I was working at
the steel mill or some shit, saving up money so I could get out of town.
To go down to Florida
or something.
Yeah---to do something
with my life and move to Fort Lauderdale!
Living on Prospect, though. Those guys weren't there at the time, but
Prospect in '71 was pretty bleak. I don't know if Alan and that crew had
the Plaza by then, but I kinda think not. I left town for a while, came
back in '73 and hooked up with Scott again. When did Horses come out?
'75?
'75 or '76, yeah.
Well, I didn't
start playing with Ubu until the summer of '76 then. And I was listening
to a lot of Miles Davis---the dark, really electric shit---and a lot of
Velvet Underground. Darker pieces, like Peter Green's "The End of
the Game". I used to listen to a lot of that stuff with Scott. And
at the time I was playing a bit, hustling money…
What were you playing
at that time? Were you strumming a little guitar or what?
I was on a schedule
where I'd do a couple hours of piano and a couple hours of guitar and
a lot of bass in between.
What put you on
that schedule?
I did. I thought,
"Wow, I'm already 23", so I thought I was way behind everybody.
Like Scott had already been playing music for 8 or 9 years, since he was
a teenager. And I definitely felt like the inexperienced guy. So I put
myself on this schedule. When I came back from Florida I lived in Lakeview
for a few months and all I did was play bass. Then I managed to save up
some money, moved into the Plaza, got the piano, got some amps, and just
started playing everything. I was only in a couple bands before Ubu but…
I remember my dad telling me that somebody's brother's kid's got a band
and they need somebody to play bass---it was like a fuckin' Holiday Inn
band doin' "Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree"…
That song has a million fuckin' changes! All those Stevie Wonder songs…
If you don't know that music… I did that for a couple months, though.
I remember coming out of one of those rehearsals in the winter and wiping
the snow off my Mustang…
What year?
Oh this was like
uh… It was…
No, what year was
the Mustang?
'56.
What else could
it be.
That car was beautiful.
Anyway, I did pretty good---I moved down to Florida with a couple hundred
bucks, a bottle of whiskey, and a little guitar that I didn't even know
how to play. And I came back with a good stereo, a bunch a records, and
a beautiful bride.
And knowing how
to cut hair, so naturally you moved to Lakewood.
Did you ever hear
any of that early Herbie Hancock stuff? Really electric and funky, like
"Watermelon Man" and all that? I remember coming out of one
of those Holiday Inn band rehearsals, wiping the snow off my car…
and you know how snowy Cleveland gets, all quiet, and I'd be playing this
funky shit really loud in the car and just feeling so far away from where
I really wanted to be.
Where did you want
to be?
I wanted to be
playing shit like that!
But what I started
asking a while ago, is the opposite of your musical influences. When
you started playing with Ubu, how much of that music was about your
life and how much was it about music that you were into at the time.
That music seems really organic to me.
We were all living
right downtown, all of us. And the pastime down there was just driving
around. It'd get snowy and we'd drive around and drink in the car and
just BE downtown. I lived downtown for like 12 years.
To answer your question… David always waxed really poetical about
the flats and all that, but it's just true that those surroundings really
did have a huge effect on me. When I start thinking about that stuff I
just feel shifted…
That music seems
like such a direct response to me, it's so atmospheric. Especially the
first couple of records, it seems like the atmosphere comes first, before
even the songs. It sounds so much like those streets, so much like Cleveland.
It's interesting
to me when I look at what I've done, and those first couple of records
just seem like… I feel like I've almost come full circle from the
early seventies. I used to turn off the lights and play the piano, and
that's "Dub Housing". I used to come home late at night and
turn on an amp and play, and that's the beginning of "Codex".
That stuff was really influenced by my surroundings.
Personally I was really influenced by what I was listening to. You'd never
know that was listening to reggae and Miles Davis and Bob Dylan, but…
Playing with Bob Kidney had a big influence on me, too. We'd sit out in
his backyard and really go over those Robert Johnson tunes.
When?
This was later,
maybe early '80s. I probably met him in the late seventies and by the
early '80s I was playing with him. He wanted me to join his band, but
I was touring with Ubu and I didn't really want to stop doing that.
I think what I was
asking was more about when you guys started writing music and would
get together to put together songs, you guys were trying to recreate
the atmosphere of your lives at that point, and…
Let me just stop
you. The first place we ever rehearsed at was in that building over on
Euclid Avenue around 62nd. It was a small room and it was dark in there,
and it felt like the heart of Cleveland. And I think organically songs
like "Sentimental Journey" came straight from that dark room
with everybody being in there, looking into themselves, listening to what
was going on around them and reacting to it.
There's something
about those first albums. Like "Dub Housing"---what does that
mean but hearing what everybody around you is doing? There's Tony on
the other side of the wall playing piano with the lights off---"Dub
Housing". It's all about you guys trying to recreate your environment
and giving it some shape.
Yeah, for sure
that's what we were doing. Absolutely.
As opposed to later
on when it gets more cerebral and more about ideas about music.
And writing songs.
"Let's write some songs."
The earlier records
are great songs, but at the same time they're soundscapes. They're collages,
paintings of what your world is like.
A song like "Modern
Dance" or "Streetwaves", that's most definitely true. It's
not an easy thing to go back and look at because I believed in it so much…
But then you'd made
a couple of records, and you had a contract and you had to make another
batch of songs. At some point it changes, and then you're not all hanging
out together. I don't know though, were you ever all hanging out together?
I remember playing
gigs and then going back to where David lives, then sitting out back on
the lawn, getting high and talking and stuff, but those days didn't last
that long. I mean, Tom got really disenchanted with David's Jehovah's
Witness thing, and when he left the band it really really changed.
So was there a while
where you were just looking for a guitar player.
Yeah, for a while.
And Scott and I had been playing with Doug's brother Pat and we wanted
him in the band because he was a great guitar player. But David wouldn't
go for it.
David doesn't seem
to like guitars.
I guess. We got
Mayo Thompson, who wasn't really…
How'd that happen?
David just invited
him into the band.
How'd he know him?
Just from Red Krayola?
Yeah. I didn't
really know the Red Krayola the way David did. I had heard 13th Floor
Elevators and I'd heard Red Krayola, but David was into that. I was like,
"Hey, David, this is great, but let's have Pat in the band, too."
But David wasn't going to go that way. And that was definitely a major
intersection in the life and times of Pere Ubu.
So that was between
"Dub Housing" and "New Picnic Time".
"Picnic Time"
was Tom's last record. The next one was "Art of Walking", and
if you go back and listen to that one it's way different. There's actually
some good stuff on that record, and I've grown to like it more as time
has gone on, but it was definitely a move away from the rock changes that
Tom was really good at.
It's a move away
from what's really organic to something more conscious.
Yeah. Intellectualizing
it. Which Mayo was just so good at---he could talk about things…
He had just produced this record for Blood Ulmer and he wanted me to play
like Blood Ulmer's bass player who's like one of those virtuoso machinegun
bass players. "Give it more lift! Give it more lift!" And then
add Anton Fier to the equation for the next record and it's just too much.
So wasn't "Art
of Walking" before "New Picnic Time"?
No. "Art of
Walking" was after and is the one that Tom wasn't on.
No, Tom isn't on
"New Picnic Time", is he? I thought he left after "Dub
Housing"?
No, he's on "New
Picnic Time". But it's funny that you say that. Even though he's
on "Picnic Time", he wasn't really into it. I think he had already
decided he was going to leave. There's some quirky funny little songs
on there that are okay.
There are good songs
on all of the Ubu albums. But after the first two or three, they're
just not as cohesive. It sounds more intellectualized.
Tom is still on
"New Picnic Time", and there's still a certain amount of the
organic flow of the songs on there.
How did you feel
while you were doing that record?
I still was way
into it. When you're just a beginner and new to the studio and stuff,
you're just so excited about playing piano or organ, playing guitar. I
was getting to play all these different instruments and I was way into
it.
Was a lot of that
stuff created in the studio?
No, most of it
was rehearsed.
Was that a big shift
for you to go from rehearsal rooms to the studio?
Not really because
I was way down with practicing. I was really into practicing. When it
came time to record, I knew every single thing I wanted to play.
But the band at
that point… Was it still like a marriage or were you all pulling
in different directions?
We weren't pulling
in odd directions yet. I was way into the idea of playing some guitar
and getting to switch up instruments. Scott was still… It got to
the point with "Art of Walking" that he wouldn't know what to
play. If you go back and listen to some of that stuff it's way arty, and
Scott would just stop playing, which I thought was pretty cool---to just
stop playing. But David wasn't into that. David and Scott were always
bumping heads. I guess I was a little bit with David at that point but
I guess Scott saw it all coming early than I did. He would just say "I
don't have anything to play to that." And for me, I can play to anything.
Well, you're playing
a melodic instrument and he's playing a drum.
I know a lot of
drummers who can play to anything. I always thought that in a lot of ways
Scott was a really uncompromising drummer, who could only play if he felt
a certain way about something, and I always respected and admired that.
One of the biggest changes between "New Picnic Time" and "Art
of Walking" was that Tom and I could sit down and relate to each
other. I remember the places we were at when we wrote a lot of these songs.
We would just sit down with an instrument and bang it out. And Mayo and
I never got to that point.
When, say, you and
Tom sat down to write a song, you didn't have the words.
No, David always
wrote the words afterwards.
Did he have any
part in writing the music on any of these songs?
We always talked
about it---"this is good, this is good, this needs a change"---but
that kind of talk was a lot less in effect back in the early days. And
as we got older, there were more and more request about what we should
do to the music. It was always fun, though. I wrote a lot of David's stuff,
too---I'd go into a room with him and, say, Chris Cutler, and that was
something that we always did. David always talks about having a hand in
the music.
A directorial hand,
not a creative hand.
In the beginning
he was just another person in the band, talking about "let's try
that, let's try this."
Don't you think
there's a difference between people all living in the same place, working
towards the same goal, and not hanging out together, just getting together
to make a record.
Totally.
Let's get to some
of this guy's questions. He says, uh, "How were songs started in
Ubu? Did somebody come in with a riff and then everybody added their
own parts to it or was it more authorial-i.e., 'here's what you'll play
when I get to this part'?"
I think in the
very beginning it was way way up on improvisation. We would start improvising,
and then the challenge was to remember what you were doing. We'd be playing
and something wouldn't get taped, and then it would get forgotten. That
was always a great source of frustration. Then as time went on, people
would bring in an idea and in the beginning it was usually Tom and me.
You keep talking
about Tom and you or Scott and you.
It's interesting
because Alan was very adamant about not being a musician, so his roll
was like David's in that he would react. I didn't get together with David
to do stuff outside the band, either, though. It was never "Hey David,
let's go out and get a coupla drinks and pick up some girls, maybe go
dancing."
I don't think anybody
ever did that with him. Next question… I don't really like this
question, but he says, "You had never played a musical instrument
before joining Pere Ubu. What got you into the band as a musician?"
I'd played guitar
when I was a kid, then I'd played bass with a rock funk band in Cleveland.
I told you about that guy---I named my dog after that guy! That was my
first real band. Then after that I played with Friction, which was Peter
Laughner and Anton Fier. And after that it was Pere Ubu. That's for the
record.
When you first started
playing, what was your life like? Where was your money coming from?
What were you doing with your time.
I was tending bar
at the Picadilly Inn. They had a penthouse and there was a club up there.
They had a disco place downstairs and a rock club upstairs.
Didn't Television
play there?
Television played
there, Johnny Thunders played there. It was so cool. What's his next question?
His next question
is, "The bass plays a lot of leads in Ubu songs. Considering that
at the start you were probably the least experienced member of the band,
this seems like a pretty backward approach, but it worked out well.
Why was this the approach taken? Was the outcome part of the Ubu vision
or was it more a result of the personalities involved?"
That's totally
what you were talking about earlier.
Yeah, it's kind
of a stupid question, but go ahead.
Tom used to play
bass, and I actually used to play guitar way back when. I was never trying
to play guitar on the bass, but I was in to playing melodies. And Tom
was really good at laying out a really strong rhythm part. It was easy
to jump off and play that stuff, and Scott's such an amazing 4 on the
floor drummer, that with those 2 going it was really easy for me to jump
off.
Those songs are
really bass heavy, but they're not bass driven. That must have had something
to do with all the reggae you were listening to.
I was always into
reggae and dub and Motown, funk, soul… I feel like I'm just learning
to play that stuff now.
His next question
is, "David Thomas seems to be, in many ways, the focus of Pere
Ubu, if only because he's been the only consistent member of the band
through the ages. How did he work with the band in early Ubu, versus
late Ubu?" Do you want to skip that one?
I think one of
the main reasons that David's always been the focus of Pere Ubu is that
David always did the press.
This is kinda cool.
This guy says, "In doing these interviews I have often heard the
phrase 'serving Ubu', referring to musical approach, implying that there
is a higher power at work. What do you see as the guiding principles
of Ubu, the rules that all involved must obey?"
That's funny. We
should think up a good answer.
He says, "It's
interesting to me that there is so much early Ubu on tape (at least
relatively). Did the group consider recording music an important part
of making it---as opposed to trying to just be a live band?"
Yeah, the band
always wanted to get into the studio.
That's interesting,
though, because you guys were always, no matter what record was out,
such a great live band.
To a large degree,
we never were totally successful at capturing that live spark in the studio.
We were never that successful at it.
Really? You don't
think so?
It's hard. It's
hard just to capture the sonic qualities of it. "Modern Dance"
has a great sound, I love the sound of that record, but live… It
couldn't be controlled as much, so it was wilder, and had that little
touch of anarchy that I felt got mixed out of what we did in the studio.
So do you feel like
there's some element of Ubu that's never been captured anywhere?
I think the live
records come pretty damn close. I think those live records for better
or worse give you a good taste of the energy that was involved.
Oh, this is kinda
cool. This guy's next question is, "When Ubu first started touring,
what was that like? (I ask this as somebody who's grown up in a time
where there's a pretty secure network of clubs to play in, all readily
accessible, and when it's not such a novel thing to be running around
the country with 'my band')"
There was sort
of a network at that time, and it was magical.
A friends network?
Yeah, very friendly.
If you needed a place to stay people would put you up. If you needed to
have your hand held when you went to sleep there was someone there to
hold your hand.
Personally for me, going on the road was a revelation. It was like, "Oh
so THIS is a job that I can do. Get in a van, drive to a city, set up
some amps, play some loud music for a bunch of people who are going to
go nuts, then kick back in the van and drive some more." I was just
blown away by it. Maybe the network wasn't as together as it is today,
but there were loads of people coming to the shows. There were so many
people interested in the music. It was awesome! And that was really what
set the hook in me. I was never going to be able to do anything else because
what else was there to do?
You still do that
now, though, right?
I don't have as
much time now as I did back then. I want to run my studio. But I still
want to go back out on the road. I do it whenever I can but now I don't
want to go on the road for 8 weeks because I've got this studio.
Also when you've
been going on the road lately you've been doing it as a hired gun. If
you were going out on the road doing something that you started it would
be different.
Poka Poka just
went to Washington, that's one of my bands. And it's great, it's fun,
but on that level I can't do it as much since we're not making much money.
Going out with Crust was like going out as a hired gun. I love drum'n'bass,
it's the music that I really really love, and it doesn't feel like a hired
gun thing. Now when UV Ray goes to Europe next month, that won't be as
a hired gun---that's something I'm a member in. So I'm not really going
out as a hired gun anymore. I'd go out and play with Crust for a plane
ticket because I believe in it that much.
So when you go out
now do you still feel that same sense of excitement?
Absolutely. Absolutely.
And going to Europe just amps that up to the 10th power. I remember going
to Europe with Pere Ubu. That was a real… congealing event for that
band. It really pulled the band together because we were a certain way,
then we got on a plane and went to Europe and took a boat across the Channel
and went to Germany and played in this place where people were breaking
the windows so they could listen to sound check, or going to play in Berlin
or Amsterdam… There were a lot of adventures, and it did pull the
band together in a certain sense, but David was already changing by then.
When we went to Europe the press went nuts over Pere Ubu, the same way
they always go nuts over whatever the flavor is that week. I remember
at Rough Trade one of the first couple times we were there they got David
a 4-track machine so he could work on things in his room and that was
the beginning of his solo record. It wasn't like "Why don't you guys
go into this studio and bang out a 7" for Rough Trade?" And
David just went along with it solo. He did the same thing with the press.
Scott and I always wanted to do press, but it all got directed towards
David.
So there's that, which is the bitter, and then there was this sweetness
of going to all of those fantastic places and playing for all those people
who were so into the music. It was like a dream come true. It was great
to get to travel, which is something I've always liked to do, but then
at the end of the day I'd have something really positive to do, some work
that made sense.
This guy wants to
know about Peter, but you don't want to talk about that, right?
I would just say
that Peter was one of my major musical influences, and one of my best
friends. Back then, when I moved into the Plaza I didn't know anybody.
But Peter lived across the hall. And as soon as I got a bass amp and started
playing it he was right there knocking on the door. So I open the door
and here's this guy in a leather jacket, "Hey man, what's up?"
with a 6-pack of beer and a reggae compilation record. "Hey, did
you ever hear any of this stuff?"
So he'd come over to my house all the time, and he really showed me how
to relate with an instrument. He showed me how to do it just by doing.
I could play something on the piano, and then he'd come over and play,
say, "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" in an Eddie Cochran style or
whatever. He was awesome as far as I was concerned. He was so generous
with his knowledge and talent, across the board to anyone he met. And
I'm just speaking for me now, but I'm very very grateful to Peter. From
the time he came over and just started playing with me, then all of the
sudden it was okay for people to ask me to play with them. It was definitely
Peter. I have so much respect for him.
These questions
are really stupid, so I'm going to skip some of them. [pause as he reads
ahead]. I can't believe some of these questions, so I'm going to skip
all of them.
To recap this,
though, I would say that I had a really great time playing in Pere Ubu.
It was great to write all of those songs with those guys, to go on the
road with them, and I have a lot of really great feelings about Pere Ubu.
I'm listening to myself talk, and to me Pere Ubu isn't just David Thomas,
it's all of us being in that band. It's all of us being out at SUMA with
the Hamanns, all of us playing all of those shows at the Pirate's Cove.
I think that's what
this guy's trying to address is that the way this story's been told
is all about David Thomas and his vision, which is completely skewed.
I know and it's
good to hear myself say that. But as a band it was a great time. Like
when we played the London College of Printing, it was mayhem! And David
would always tell me that I was too loud, and maybe I was, but everybody
was so into it! I wasn't gonna fuckin' turn down! I can't help it, though.
I'm passionate about that shit.
When I start to think back on all the years and all the travel, sure there
was a little friction with David, but I don't care about that so much.
I think about Peter and Tom and Scott And Jimmie Jones… All those
guys, it was a pleasure to play with them and the good times way outweighed
the bad ones.
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