G A R Y N U M A N

NO INTRODUCTION NECESSARY

From Alternative Press No. 108, July 1997

By Jason Pettigrew

During the opportunistic end of the '70s British punk explosion, Gary Webb changed his last name to Numan and entered the studio with his band Tubeway Army to record their debut. During the sessions, Numan started toying with a Mini-Moog synthesizer the studio had rented for another client. That is how the bridge between punk and electro-rock was erected. Dumping the Tubeway Army handle, Numan became an international pop star at age 21 with the hit "Cars," took synthesizers out of the hands of pudgy prog-rockers and proceeded to influence a wave of synthpop pretenders to the throne.

Today, big name rockers such as the Foo Fighters and Marilyn Manson, as well as underground fans such as Brick Layer Cake and Dis-, acknowledge Numan's musical contribution to an era when most of America willingly digested what are today's cold classic-rock turds. Numan's former label, Beggars Banquet, recently issued Gary Numan: Tubeway Army Premier Hits, a collection of Numan's biggest hits, non-LP tracks and other songs chronicling the changes in his career. A tribute album, Random, featuring folks such as Blur's Damon Albarn and the Rentals' Matt Sharp, as well as Pop Will Eat Itself, Jimi Tenor, Gravity Kills, Bis and the Orb, will be released in June. At 37 [!], Numan is excited by the modern electro-rock sounds of Nine Inch Nails and Gravity Kills, and looks forward to making music again.

Playing Replicas, I was surprised by how fresh it still sounds. Your early albums don't sound like antiques. Do you recall any moments when you've heard something you've recorded and cringed?

I think when you record and play music, you do so with a different ear. I listen back to some of my work now and think, "I could've played that better" or "I shouldn't have done that lyric." But then you lose sight of the overall effect the music had. I don't listen to it and cringe, but I do listen and think I could've done something a little better. [I believe we all agree.]

And speaking of that overall effect, that's an impressive line-up on your tribute album.

Throughout most of my career, I felt that I was completely "uncred." (laughs) I didn't feel innovative or influential at all, but in the past 12 months, all of these bands have bene saying nice things (about me). I was so happy that a lot of non-electronic bands are partcipating (in the tribute record). For me to sit back and see that I had such an influence -- large or small -- on such a cross-section of bands is completely satisfying. I can't believe it.

You say you didn't feel influential or innovative, but that's not true. You were the first electro-rock act to break out when there were very few people doing it at the time.

Well, as much as I want to believe that, I'd just say that I got famous first.

But you also took the synthesizer out of the realm of the conservatory-trained progressive-rock millionaires.

I was just a guitarist that played keyboards; I just turned punk songs into electronic songs. You didn't have to play 1000 notes a second and other grand things. The whole vibe of synthesizers back then was that "King Arthur's Round Table" thing (a reference to Yes keyboardist Rick Wakeman's solo career). Along comes me and a couple others making three-minute pop songs with synths and making them powerful.

That was around the same time when rock critics and dullards cried that synth-based music was "cold and detached."

My argument at the time was, the difference between a synthesizer and any other instrument was that on a synth not only did you have to find the part you wanted, but you had to search for the sound itself. In many ways, the synth is a far more expressive instrument than any other. (The argument) fell on deaf ears because most people couldn't get past the fact that the synth had all sorts of dials and buttons on it. These days you go to see a really good guitar player, and he'll have, Christ, 20 foot pedals going, and people will say, "That's a pure instrument." It's rubbish!

I remember that the British press took that argument, coupled it with your lyrics and manufactured this paranoid, frightened and untrusting persona for you. How much of that image was real?

In much of that stuff, there was an element of truth, but it was magnified and turned into an image. But underneath it all, I was paranoid. I was brought up to be paranoid! (laughs) Not to be weird toward my parents, but I was brought up to be very careful about people, and to trust no one outside of the family.

Did you get beaten up at school?

I used to get expelled! (laughs) I was reasonably bright, but I was the troublemaker at school. I didn't come out a weeping willow, but I did come out extremely suspicious of people. And I carried that into my music when my career started to happen. But to be fair, the British press made much more of it than was necessary. But since it seemed to be selling lots of records, I let it go on and played up on it. I sused to get letters that read: "I'm just like you; I sit in the corner and cry every day." I've never done that in my life! (laughs)

Electronics are everywhere in music today: industrial rock, drum & bass, ambient. Whom are you listening to these days?

I'm a massive fan of Nine Inch Nails. I'd love to work with Trent Reznor. My favorite band at the moment now is Gravity Kills. The way they use guitars and synths under the loops is a powerful combination. I think they have a tremendous sense of melody and light-and-dark shading. The power and the aggression are reminiscent of the punk thing, but much more interesting and proficient. I'm not particularly knowledgeable about the industrial scene (in England) or over in America. I think it's a really exciting period in music right now. I look to America and think, "That's where I should be." I have a new album completed, and I'd like to get a record deal and work with somebody like Trent Reznor or Gravity Kills, somebody to push me to see how far (the music) could go.

You were always good at pushing it. I remember when you performed on Saturday Night Live and there were no fewer than eight Mini-Moogs on stage.

(laughs) I remember that.

Even the drummer had one. And who could forget that small automated car you used to drive onstage during "Down in the Park"?

On one of the gigs on that tour, there was a union walk-out. The electrical union and the props union were arguing over who was going to lift that car onto the stage. Because they couldn't agree, the show almost didn't happen! All because of that stupid car, which was a wheelchair with a spacey frame on top of it. The electrical union then told me I couldn't drive it myself and that I'd have to have the electrician drive it and sit on his lap! (laughs) We had to buy him off so he'd look the other way. (laughs) I think it was in Cleveland!


SUGGESTED LISTENING

Tubeway Army Tubeway Army - The point where punker Gary gets in the Moog. (Beggars Banquet, 1978)

Gary Numan + Tubeway Army Replicas - The breakthrough electro-rock album featuring the hit "Are 'Friends' Electric?" and the Marilyn Manson and Foo Fighters fave "Down in the Park." (Beggars Banquet, 1979)

Gary Numan The Pleasure Principle - A nearly guitar-free release. Home of the international hit "Cars." (Beggars Banquet, 1979)

Gary Numan I, Assassin - Numan's space-funk foray features past and present members of Japan and AC/DC. (How's that for visionary?) (Beggars Banquet, 1982)


© 1997 Alternative Press
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