Warwick Boar (London; Nov 1979)

LENE LOVICH - REVIEW AND INTERVIEW

Boar (feeling foolish) (to Les Chappell): Excuse me - but would you mind if I asked you a couple of questions?

L.C. 'No, not at all; go ahead'

Boar 'Well...are you still on Stiff Records?

L.C. (surprised at the idiocy of the question) : Yeah - sure. Definitely.

BOAR - Oh also do you know when your next album is coming out?

L.C. Yes.. probably at the beginning of next year.

After this scintillating conversation we got backstage without the press cards which I had neglected to obtain. But we get kicked out so we decide to wait until after the gig.

After a while Jane Aire finished her encore and Lene Lovich came on stage accompanied by 'Monkey Talk', an instrumental track. [Note: Incorrect. "Monkey Talk" was not played as an instrumental. Starting with the autumn 1979 tour until at least 1986 (or longer), Lene came on stage accompanied by the studio recording of her instrumental track "Big Bird" (as released on the "Say When" 12" single's b-side, May 1979). "Monkey Talk" was often the first song of the actual live set from 1978 to 1980.] The rest of the concert was one of the best I've seen. The rest of the audience agreed. The group was in fine form, as befitted the last night of the tour.. more words would be redundant. The dozens of encores having finished we went backstage again. Everyone was too relaxed to notice us and we found ourselves outside dressing room No. 2 clearly marked 'Lene Lovich'

BOAR: Knock Knock (door opens)

MANAGER: Do you mind we're busy (Door closes)

BOUNCER: Have you a press card?

BOAR: Um..No.. I'm from the Warwick Boar.

We were surrounded by dozens of groupies and assorted friends.

Les Chappell re-enters.

BOAR Can I ask you some questions?

L.C.  Yeah.. sure but not just now.

Lene Lovich enters

L.L. did you want to ask some questions?

BOAR (fainting with surprise) Ah yes yes please.

BOAR: What did you think of tonight's performance?

L.L. Well of course, I don't know how well it went... I hope it was good. It certainly felt great from where we were. We made a few technical mistakes but the atmosphere was good, and that's what counts. (N.B. the only 'technical mistake' noticeable from the audience was a momentary breakdown at the start of one of the songs. But the atmosphere was great.)

BOAR: How do you think the tour as a whole went?

L.L. Really well!

BOAR: There was a lot of new material that we heard tonight, is this going to be on your new album? Especially the first track

L.l. Monkey Talk?

BOAR: Yes.

L.L. Yes, Monkey Talk is going on the new album.... and so's most of the new material. [Note: All new songs that were played on that tour appeared on the album ("Flex", released in January 1980).]

BOAR: Is the new album going to be very different to 'Stateless' ?

L.L. No, not a million miles... 500 miles maybe. We've changed. We've had a year's experience behind us. Maybe...

BOAR: What's your connection with the Sinceros?

L.L. Well, when we were doing 'Stateless' we had Bobby (Irwin) and Ron (Francois) recording with us, and then for the 'Be Stiff'' tour, we needed a band, and the Sinceros were our friends so Don (Snow) played with us as well.

BOAR: Are there any religious overtones in your songs.

L.L. OH? I don't know what... name me a song.

BOAR: Angels for example

L.L. Oh no, not religious in a traditional sense no. [Note: see also Soho News interview (New York; 02 April 1980)]

BOAR: Where do you come from?

L.L. Well, by passport I am from America, Detroit. But my father came from Yugoslavia, and my mother from Yorkshire.

BOAR: Oh well, thanks very much..

L.L O.K. That's fine, I hope to talk to all my other friends now, Bye!

And so saying she departed.

(N.B. We were the only reporters present. Boar scoops the world!)

LENE LOVICH AT HAMMERSMITH PALAIS

Reviwed by Tom Vinelott and Andrew Parker

TUESDAY NOVEMBER 6th

Outline (Norwich/UK; Nov 2013)

Lene Lovich: A Hit Ms That Refuses To Fit. Lene Lovich, five foot nothing of old lace, obscure ancestry and pigtails, is what in old showbiz parlance they call a trouper. She can take the strain. That was the beginning of Paul Rambali's article on the iconic singer from the NME back in 1979, and how right he was, in both respects. Nowadays, performers believe they're making a statement by getting near naked. Read: Miley Cyrus. Darling, anyone can take their clothes off and stick their tongue out. While Lady Gaga’s outfit of raw meat perhaps swayed towards the more original, it also smacked of shock tactics. It might be said that it's impossible to be different, to be original now. But in 1979, Lene was. She subverted a traditionally male-controlled industry and controlled it herself. And what about Paul Rambali's remark that she could take the strain? Thirty-four years later, with a string of invitations and dates ahead of her, you can decide for yourself, as she plays in Norwich this month. 

Lene, thank you so much for your time today. We're an independent magazine, so we really do appreciate it.

L: Yeah, I know the magazine, it's everywhere! Brilliant!

So obviously we're doing this interview ahead of your Norwich Arts Centre gig this month. A lot of people won't know Norwich is something of a homecoming gig for you now, isn't it?

L: Well, it's a very familiar place for me. Both my daughters went to Art School in Norwich so I spend a lot of time here. Yeah, I'm very familiar with it; Anglia Square is almost the centre of my universe.

[Laughs] Now that's a pull quote!

L: [Laughs] And I'm very proud to say that!

What is it about the Square that lights up your world so much?!

L: Oh, well… it's a very easy place to be. There's no pressure. There's everything you need, pretty much. It's cheap... it's just a wonderful place! I often go to the Hollywood Cinema. I went there recently to see The Lone Ranger, which was wonderful.

Very good. And did you see the Alan Partridge Premiere?

L: No, I'm gutted; no, not there. But I have lots of strange cosmic connections with Norfolk. My mother's from Yorkshire, but her maiden name is Norfolk, which is quite bizarre.

There is a sort of magnetism about the county, it seems.

L: No, but maybe we don't want too many people to know about it because it's good as it is. We don't want too many aliens arriving.

But Lene, you've had many homes. I was thinking about your initial switch from Detroit to Hull when you were young. I mean, East Yorkshire - maybe it's just that Detroit seems exotic just by rights that it's in the US --

L: It was also dangerous. Yes, it sounds more exotic but it was really a hard place to be, especially at that time and now - well, it's come full circle because it did have an amazing recovery after the riots that were happening when I was there, and now it's a very strange place to be. The whole centre of Detroit has gone into decay. I don't know enough about it because I haven't been there in a while, but you know the whole prosperous and extravagant shops in the central area of Detroit has completely gone away now, from what I hear. It's almost gone back to sort of medieval times with people setting up farms… I know it sounds bizarre; maybe you better check these facts! It's just I can't believe it! It was a very big place to be, very posh, very extravagant, wealthy and just… just crumbled. So big cities everywhere, take note: it can happen. It happened to Rome, so…

But Hull - maybe Hull never had any grace to fall from - it's quite a down to earth place, isn't it? Was it a bit of a culture shock?

L: It was a welcome shock. It was a welcome shock because as I said, Detroit was a very troubled place and also my family was… was very messed up. Basically my mother ran away from my father, who had lots of problems, you know, mentally and aggressively, in his attitude towards everybody. Oh, this is like a novel, so I won't go into detail, but it was a great escape for me. I didn't really mind where I was going, I was just glad to be getting away. As long as I was with my mother and my brother and sisters. We all kind of escaped and went to Hull, which was great.

But as you came of age, you moved to London, to art school, didn't you?

L: I moved to London, because after a while, as you grow up and become a teenager you want your own identity. When you're little, I think you want to be the same as everybody else because little children move in their own personal groups and they like to be together, and if you're the odd one out, it's very noticeable. I was the odd one out because as I grew, I realised my visions and my ideas were different to everybody else. You soon learn that in order to survive in a very small world, you have to suppress your ideas… but they were just put on hold and I thought, 'Well, one day. I don't want to get beaten up, or be more of an outsider than I already am.' I think every school has their Wednesday Addams, and that was me. Completely alien to everybody else, maybe because of my accent. It wasn't a very big accent because my mother's English and my father's family's got its roots in Yugoslavia. But I was different and I thought, 'I've got to get to a bigger place where I won't be so unusual. Then maybe I can make some more friends and be in a place where I can express my creative ideas.' But it was a fun place; I don't want to paint a picture that it was dismal because it was the start of rock music being a band thing. Really, more before the 60s and 70s it was more about individual artists and then with the Beatles and the Mersey Sound, it became a band thing.

Musically, it's accepted that you were part of the post-punk and new wave artforms. You, as a generation, were making the rules up for yourselves, you didn't have a lot to guide you. What were you taking inspiration from?

L: Well I had a whole, huge bank of ideas in my head that I'd been saving up, you know, so I'd been gathering information that inspired me for a long time. I was a huge Jimi Hendrix fan… before he was famous. He actually made a stop in Hull; he was on tour with a load of other people and I couldn't afford to get into the show. They probably wouldn't have let me in anyway because I was just a teenager and you had to be a certain age to get into these places, but I walked all the way into the centre of town just to try and listen to the music. He was a huge influence on me; very new and expressive. I loved the whole psychedelic thing. I'm now friends with Arthur Brown, who was very important in that whole time of music and I found that all very inspiring.

The individuality in the way that you expressed yourself, how you presented and styled yourself has been widely celebrated. Coming from an art school background, I imagine it was part of the whole package for you - -

L: Well actually, art school… I went to do sculpture eventually in London at a place that's now called Central St Martins - it was Central School of Art when I was there - and I was actually extremely disappointed because there was a fashion in sculpture at the time, which was abstract, big welded, sometimes colourful items and it was a disappointingly small world where you had to do work like the tutors in order to get on. I went along with it for a certain amount of time but then me and  a few other people in my year rebelled in our third year and we did exactly what we wanted to do, which was great fun. We didn't get any thanks for it though! [Laughs] Because we'd been there so long they had to give us a pass, but that's all it was; we didn't get a good mark, I'm afraid, but it was great fun to release proper creativity. So I just saw clothes and making music and art all part of the whole way of expression. It's very important and it's not hurting anyone, so why not.

I was thinking, it must have taken some balls to assert yourself in the music industry at the time, especially doing something that wasn't pre-prescribed by commercialism. I think it then took even bigger balls to make the decision to be a mother and take time to raise your family. They're two very distinct roles, aren't they?

L: Yes, but for me it happened very naturally. I came to a point where I'd been to a lot of places in the world, I'd stayed up all night a lot of times, been to a lot of clubs, did loads of shows and you know, I think I was ready for a change. And for me, it was difficult because I wasn't mainstream and I didn't have records, apart from a couple, so it was hard to make a living. I just felt it was more important for me to be a mother and be there for my family, because maybe I didn't have such a good family life for myself as a child, so I wanted to make it a good time for everybody.

The header of your press release says, "Retirement is over". And boy, are you going for it. It's been a really exciting time for you over the last couple of years, hasn't it? What was the turning point, the trigger for your revival?

L: I was asked to do a free jazz version of Kurt Weill's music and Jude Rawlins was the other vocalist in the performance. Now the performance was a bit strange to say the least; I don't think I'll repeat it! [Laughs] I love Kurt Weill's music but the combination of that and free jazz was, erm, not totally a happy one! I think it was a challenge. Both Jude and I bonded very closely in our efforts to make our voices heard and because of that, we found out that we liked each other and we had a lot of things that were very similar and likeable between the two of our characters. Afterwards he said, "You know, you really should be doing your own music", and I said, "Well yes, I'm pretty much ready to do that now because my children are grown up". He said, "Well, I know a lot of people and I'm sure we could form a band and do that". And I was just amazed that that could be done and in a way, I was very excited because we decided we'd do it all independently, that we wouldn't be a part of the music business, the established music business and we'd have a freedom to do what we want, when we want and that was all very exciting. It's amazing that the band's been together now over a year and we've already played abroad; we've got invitations to visit America next year -- Yeah, I saw; that's exciting -- Yeah, yeah, and I'm just so happy that people want to see and hear the music again.

It's been getting a great response too, I mean, the remastered 4-CD boxset sold out, didn't it?

L: It sold out in two days; we've got some hungry fans out there so we might have to expand the issue of it. We were just testing the response and it's really good. And we've had a few plays on radio, which is really good. Mainly 'Lucky Number' of course, because that's the song most people know, and it sounds great.

So when you were remastering the albums, because you've presumably had some space from the music, it must have been a real joy to actually go through that process again and revisit them. It must have been great…

L: Yes, it was wonderful because I really hadn't listened to the old albums at all, not for many years and I thought, 'There's a real evolution here, one album after another; they're going somewhere'. And what I see now is that we're just a continuation of that. We're mainly doing the older material now but it's just a stepping stone to the next stage.

Do you have an interest in writing new material then?

L: Oh yes; I'm inspired because now our band is really solid and very, very uplifting in their enthusiasm and their musicianship as well. We have some very talented musicians in the band, all who have done things in the past and now who have come together to do this… as well as continuing their own projects. But this band is wonderful; it's given me the encouragement to want to write again.

That's fantastic, really exciting. I wanted to ask a little bit about your performance as guest vocalist on the special evening celebrating Yoko Ono and John Lennon's 'Double Fantasy' album. You were invited as part of an incredible line-up; Patti Smith, Peaches… that must've been a great night?

L: That was a completely one-off, wonderful experience! I didn't know until fairly recently that John Lennon had an interest in my music and that's why I was invited. He even said this on American TV when he was asked what he was listening to. I mean, this is obviously going back quite a few years, but I felt very special that I was remembered and when Yoko put the show together, I was invited and that made me feel really good because you don't always get good criticism from the music business, but what is more important is when you get the seal of approval from people you really admire. It was an amazing, special night and the audience were obviously 100% John Lennon and Yoko Ono fans, so every song from that 'Double Fantasy' album meant something to them. There were people in tears in the audience because there was special footage of John Lennon singing a song to Yoko that hadn't been seen before, so yeah, it was really amazing. I wish I could do it again but I think it was just one of those one-off things.

Yeah, what a great thing to be part of. I noticed on Facebook that you said if anyone's in the US and can house a band of about 10 people, or something, "invite us in!" It must really take you back to the early days of touring in the way that it's kind of up in the air - it must be invigorating though?

L: Yeah, it is because I look back and it's those early days when I was just discovering how to do stuff, finding your way - it's really not so much a comeback as starting over. I just feel that this is the way to be, that we have to be independent and closely connected to our audience. I just feel that's the right way for us to be. I loved doing the 'Double Fantasy' show at the Festival Hall, but it really wasn't part of my world. It was great to be part of that established music business world, but discovering and finding your own way is… it's exciting.

Quasi-Substitute (US; 1980)

I took a number to interview Lene Lovich in the Stiff Records lounge (which is actually just a video room). It was number 8. When my number was called I was told I had 15 minutes to find out all about the unique character of Lene. There she sat in an outfit that looked like it had been bought out of the black remnant section in an old-ladies fabric store. Both she and Les (boyfriend, songwriter, guitarist) were present for the interrogation, but Les let Lene do all the talking. I refrained from asking him how much trouble it is to maintain a perfectly shaved head and, instead, asked Lene about her move from Detroit to Europe, where all her unusual careers got underway.

L: I went to Europe when I was 13. I came over to go to school. It wasn't until a bit later that I started to get involved with music... (In this period Lene sold hot dogs, became a bingo caller, sought out Salvador Dali, belly danced, and screamed for horror movies.)... I first tried to play the violin and it was very difficult, because I didn't have proper lessons. It sounds terrible when you first learn how to play, but I quite enjoyed it. Nobody else enjoyed it very much. Les tried to teach me to play the guitar, but that was no fun at all. Eventually I found the sax. I was offered a job in a theatre show but only under the condition I could play the saxophone, so I learned really quick.

Wasn't it through a sax gig you came in contact with the Stiff label?

L: It was through a DJ named Charlie Gillett. He's known Dave Robinson (Stiff founder) for quite some time. I originally went to Charlie because I was looking for a job as a sax player. I was very shy about my voice at the time. People are always looking for a new Bee Gees or new Beatles. For something different it's a bit difficult at first. Charlie, for the first time, was someone that had shown interest in us. Les and I had just found enough confidence to write our own songs. I played Charlie something that we had just started. He gave us a lot of confidence and said he knew just where we should be, on the Stiff label, and he arranged for us to come and meet Dave. Dave had seen us before when we were playing with other bands. We walked in at the right time because Stiff had just lost a couple of their artists and were actually looking for artists to sign up. They left us pretty much on our own. It wasn't until we had a single out that it was a success. Stiff put out five albums on the same day. When it came around to releasing singles they wanted to make it a bit special, so first Mickey Jupp had one out, Eric had one, and then Rachel. I was the last one in line and had to wait six months. It was lucky. ("Lucky Number", to be more specific.) I don't think it could in any other country but this one (England). This country is very open-minded. When you look at the charts there's all kinds of things on them, from really stupid records to humourous ones, along with middle of the road.

How do you feel about your American market?

L: I think we're still considered very underground. We don't get any airplay. They're very conservative on the media scene. The DJs that I met would quite like to play our songs. They probably do to some extent. It's real diffcult because they think we're from another planet.

Where did you get that musical style?

L: We never really had much connection with traditional rock and roll. Our musical influences come in a roundabout way. In fact, from any conventional link, it would be more from black music - Motown, because that's what I heard mostly. The things that influenced me more were our jobs in the theatre.

Do you take the things that you did in the theatre and put them to music?

L: No, not really. I think everything that we do comes natural to us. I suppose you learn from your experiences and pick up things... but what goes in and what comes out has an effect, but sublimely, not so much calculatively.

Would that hold true for "Angels", the song about encountering the Hell's Angels while filming Cha Cha?

L: Ah yes but that song is not only about the Hell's Angels. It's for anyone that likes to live dangerously. If I'm actually singing about something that has happened to me, it's usually because... well, it's NOT because I want to re-create the history of it, but because it's in my head and it's stayed there awhile. Not the event, the reactions from the event.

You also incorporate lots of unusual vocal sounds in your songs - from the horror screaming to a nightingale. How are these brought in?

L: It's whatever's needed at the moment. It's probably because I've had no musical training, I sort of use whatever is effective at the time. I think that certain frequencies can help generate a certain atmosphere, so sometimes I sing very high, not so necessarily words, but sounds, like vowel sounds. If I think it needs some sort of penetration, then I'll put a scream in. Maybe to sing very low can help to influence the person listening and make them understand more the mood of the song.

It seems that the mood you create on the album Flex is one specific one compared to all the diversity that was on Stateless. The funk-pop-synthesized selections that were on your first album seem to have disappeared in the composition of Flex.

L: I think the problem is that we should be making more LPs. People tend to see each album as being specific... "You've changed directions." What it really means is, that we're capable of making many kinds of music. I think the more albums that we do, the more apparent that will become.

The jacket is a real interesting piece of art on the idea of movement.

L: I always hoped that people would be able to move with our music. Some songs are definitely up-tempo. And we see when we perform that certain songs make people jump up and down und others don't. It's interesting to watch from the stage how people react physically from your songs.

The idea of flex seems so flowing, whereas people are high energy in concert. It seem to be a different type of movement.

L: I think it's a different feeling from the moment that you watch it. You miss a lot because it all happens so quickly. I've always been fascinated by these nature films that watch flowers open very slowly. And watching insects move.

Did you make up any of those definitions of "flex" on the album?

L: No, they were all from the dictionary or the thesaurus. I was a bit sad that the electrical connotations of "flex" were left off. Flex also means... (looks around, picks up the cord to the cassette recorder) Like this here, it could be called a flex. It means insulated wire.

Yeah, that would put together what you were saying about the high energy dancing and the term "flex". Besides music and movement you're also doing a lot with video. Do you think music is ready for the visual media?

L: I can see very much in my mind pictures when I'm writing songs. I'd like to do about three videos for each song. What I'm frightened of is limiting a song by putting visuals to it. I like it when people come up to me and say, "Oh you know what that song's about, that's about..." and it's totally different from what I had in mind. I find it intruiging and I'd like to encourage people to use their own minds.

One thing that always comes out in a video is that you're always in a wedding dress.

L: I'm NOT always in a wedding dress. Just recently. I wanted to try a different color. I usually wear dark colors and I'd be very happy wearing dark colors, but I thought, "You should change". I'd be very happy with black but that's because the most interesting clothes I've seen happen to be black. Also I like lace a lot, but that's only because I like the different pictures, and the different textures you can build up by the layers. It's just a lot of net curtains. I suppose the fact I wear a veil makes it a wedding dress. But then I have the other extreme. I like to dress in a tailored way, like the American cover of my first album.

You said in a documentary that you feel most of the world laughs at you. Tell me how YOU see the world.

L: I just think that personal freedom is very important. It disturbs me to see young people very conservative. I like to encourage people to be creative. If the Martians ever landed here they would be freaked out totally. Just look at a tree, what kind of thing is that? The world is a very wonderful and strange place and I hope that people won't try and make it very small. I think that's actually happening in music. In the future there won't be so many superstars. There will be a lot more alternatives. I like the idea of that, it's a healthy idea.

I think that you've proved it's possible!!

L: YEAH!!!!

Austin American-Statesman (08 April 1983)

Tour promotes 'No Man's Land'

Lene Lovich plays first Austin concert

Detroit's transplanted Yugoslavian Lene Lovich has been playing now-you-see-me-now-you-don't with the rock scene, but not by choice.

In 1978, she joined the maverick Stiff Records label along with Elvis Costello, Nick Lowe and Ian Dury. Lovich released "Stateless" and captured the attention of an FM-weary with the single "Lucky Number", a dizzy, daffy, unforgettable hit. The follow-up, "Flex", marked the end of her honeymoon: Stiff/Epic began to lose interest, and by early 1981, she had dropped out of sight. No extensive tours, no albums - only the underpublicized EP "New Toy", which died quietly on the record racks.

Lovich hopes that it's all behind her now. Her latest release, "No Man's Land", is "something I feel very strongly about", she says. "But I was afraid that without my touring, it wouldn't get the exposure I'd like to see it get." Hence, her full-scale American tour, and her first visit to Austin tonight at the Opry House.

So far in the tour, it's become evident that her audience hasn't abandoned her. "Our concerts have tended to be sellouts", she observes calmly but with pride. Lovich fans will notice a new leaning in "No Man's Land" toward electronic texturing, with cohort Les Chappell opting for synthesizers over guitars in most songs.

The similarity to fellow traveller Thomas Dolby's techno-pop is obvious, but Lovich hastens to point out that, "'No Man's Land' should've been released two years ago. Before then, I couldn't afford much equipment and had to borrow a used synthesizer from a sculptor friend.

"When I recorded 'Stateless', although I had a number of ideas, I think I was relying on popular rock traditions. On 'Flex' I was able to experiment a bit more, but the product was still a little rough. On 'No Man's Land', the musical ideas are more technically effective, I'd say."

One area that remains consistent about Lovich's work is her lyrical fascination with romance, communication and the breakdown of both. Although she's reluctant to explain her prose - "I'd rather leave them open so that the audience can participate in the music" - she confesses that they're "very, very personal."

Still, Lovich's desire to break through to universal communication is unwavering. Her recent theatrical production in England of "Mata Hari" succeeded from every conventional vantage point, but Lovich remains dissatisfied. "There could've been more for Mata Hari (her role) to say - "it could've been made more universal", she says. "I'm hoping to do the production again, but without these changes, I won't."

Lovich has plenty with which to occupy herself in the meantime. The unintended hiatus hasn't shut off any avenues for her; indeed, she sees even greater possibilities in 1983. "Certain radio stations have begun to open their mind to different kinds of music, and this is very good", says Lovich. "They're also playing more 12-inch singles, which gives the artist more room to experiment."

"But a variety of music still isn't being played; it's mainly dance music you hear. Some of the European material has been good, but as far as the actual musical content . . . well, it's been lacking."

Enter Lene Lovich - perhaps, this time, for good.

Lene Lovich will appear at 9 tonight at the Austin Opera House, 200 Academy. Admission is $8.50.

New York concert - rehearsal interview (23 Sep 1981)

From original broadcast of concert excerpts (released on DVD in 2007).

"We want to play Studio 54, because we're very impressed of the idea that this trendsetting disco is gonna start to promote live shows. They made a deliberate effort to encourage live music, and we wanna support this. Also, there's the opportunity to film the show. I mean, TV is a very personal media, and we're gonna be able to invade people's homes. And I like that idea, I mean, people are going to be able to see us as we really are. Most people, in order to get anywhere in this music business, have got to water down their ideas a lot. And you gotta become very middle-of-the-road, so that the general public feel comfortable enough to go out and buy your records. But that just wouldn't work with us. So far, I think we've managed to keep our personal identity, and it's very important to us. We've now got this great opportunity to communicate with a lot of people without having to compromise at all. I think doing this film is going to help people understand us. I think photos can be very misleading. And I think some people are put off by the way we look. But I want people to know that it's not a gimmick, it's just our own personal style. And I'm very concerned with personal freedom. I think looking the way you want to look is a very small freedom that you should enjoy, if you have the opportunity. I just feel I wanna be creative in everything I do. But I want people to understand that we're real. And I want them to know that our music means something to us. I mean, it's our whole life. We're very independent, and we wanna survive. I think it's important to try and create without compromise, because that's the only way to progress. And I'm not interested in being a Top Ten artist if that means being a clone of the next one. I wanna be myself. I think there are a lot of individuals out there who'd enjoy what we do and have affinity with it, but they won't, and that's our way of getting through to them, and that's why we're doing the show."

In Record Timez (US; Jan-Feb 1983)

LENE LOVICH SAYS WHEN

"I don't speak at all from the American side of the company," Lene qualifies before citing her grievances, "but in England, Stiff is very much a Top 10 record company, which is fine in a way, but sometimes it's a little difficult trying to please everybody and at the same time please yourself. And I'm extremely stubborn I suppose when it comes to my creative freedom in music. So it's just taken a very long time to find something that they're happy with and that I'm also happy with."

It is impossible to classify Lene, because she refuses too succumb to anything quite so tangible. "I see myself as very much of an international person," she declares. I don't really concern myself with (creating an image) because here I am and this is what I do. There are certain things about my past that I don't really wish to discuss. So for this reason I suppose I remain slightly vague. It's a little bit like the presentation of my songs really in that I don't wish to spell everything out to people. It lessens the audience participation in what you do. I don't know, I've never made a real secret of the basic facts of my life. They are there if anyone cares."

[...] Lene first picked up her reputed saxophone around this time, as well, which she leaned to play under the tutelage of a friend, Bob Flag. She also had a burning desire to sing, but found that her unique falsetto met with much opposition.

"I used to go to auditions with bands and I never got the gig," she recalls. "You see, people have a preconceptive idea of what they think a singer should be. And I just didn't measure up to their expectations."

Although she laughs now, it's apparent that Lene Lovich, the aspiring performer, did not laugh at her rejection. But the fire that burns from her cobalt eyes likewise burns within. It drove her. It still drives her. "There was a little voice inside me that wouldn't be quiet. It was desperate to get out and it made me do it," she says, half mockingly, of her determination. "I was very unconfident and yet I wanted to do it. What I did is that I went off and for five years did all sorts of jobs. Anything I could to get close to music. All sorts of stupid cabaret gigs. Put up with all sorts of abuse just to be close to music. And just to gain experience."

Now as her long-overdue third album is being readied for shelf life, Lene is in England testing her talents in yet another untried area: the theater. In a musical account of the most fantastic treason trial of World War One, which she composed in collaboration with Les and Chris Judge Smith, the upwardly mobile exotic dancer who convicted of spying died before a French firing squad in the early 1900's.

Like Mata Hari, the middle class Dutch girl who created her own legend as mysterious Indian dancer, Lene Lovich writes the script to her own life. "The thing that's most important to me," she decrees, "is the freedom to be myself. I don't want to be silenced. I think I've every right to do what I want to do."

Simply Living (Australia; #18, 1982)

After the success of "Lucky Number and "New Toy" plus their riveting film clips, we thought it time to track down this lady of such mystery and talent. Stiff Records were happy to put us in touch wth her but a late-night call to her London home was met with lonely, unanswered rings. Calls to the Stiff offices began an intense womanhunt to find this evasive creature, who is rumoured to be a psychic and 'traveller without a passport'. Just before midnight I received a call saying that Lene was now awaiting my call.

"Hi, sorry for not being in before," a light, 'normal' sounding voice said at the other end. Dark images of cryptic conversations with a thick, foreign accent fell away.

It seems that Lene spent her pre-pubescent years in Detroit and migrated to England at the impressionable age of 13 with her English-born mother to escape the violent outbursts of her Yugoslav father. [Note: Lene's father was not Yugoslav. It was her grandfather who emigrated from Hercegovina (later a part of Yugoslavia) to America. Lene's paternal grandmother was Anglo-American.] Times were tough and Lene decided to leave school and help support her family, organising a job at a boys' public school as an assistant to the matron. "I went to the headmaster and told him about this," she explained. "He was very kind and told me that I shouldn't leave because he thought I had some potential. So I went to live with the headmaster," she said, pausing . . . "and his family. I stayed on and managed to get some "O" levels and one "A" level. That was in religious knowledge! But I only took that class to get out of games because I didn't care for group sports."

[About journeying to Spain in 1970 to see Salvador Dalí] "I went to see him because I had always felt some kind of affinity with what he was doing. By chance, I met him as he was walking outside his house. I didn't really spend much time with him because he was quite ill and we couldn't say very much. He spoke French to me and I don't speak French," she chuckled. "But it was good communication without many words."

Lene's bio tossed up some peculiar history. At one stage, she - ". . . did some 'screaming' for a French horror film. I just stood in for somebody when they wanted someone who could scream well. I enjoyed it very much . . ." - and other jobs she is credited with doing include bingo caller, hot-dog seller and oriental dancer.

[About recording "I Think We're Alone Now"] "It was all Charlie's idea. He said that he'd never heard a girl's version and he felt that it would be quite suitable. In fact, I had never heard the original."

Her first album, "Stateless", is a record of locomotive drumming, interwoven rhythms and definitely out-of-the-ordinary lyrics. "Stateless" also allowed Lene to exhibit her prowess on the sax. "I think I could be much better if I would apply myself and practise, which I don't do enough. I just enjoy playing when it makes sense to play. I've never felt the need to be a soloist, in fact I've always been interested in rhythmic playing like King Curtis and Junior Walker. I can admire the technique of Charlie Parker, I just don't feel the need to do it myself," she explained.

The next album was recorded in Holland for some very good reasons. "One was that it was cheaper to do it that way. The other reason, and probably the main one, is that I didn't want to be too safe about what I was doing. I didn't want to go back into the same studio and rehash what I'd already done. I wanted a different atmosphere and Holland's only a few hours away." [Note: Another main reason to record the second album in Holland was to stay out of reach from Stiff boss Dave Robinson.]

In early 1981, "New Toy" slipped onto the radio playlists and buoyed the Lovich enthusiasm. The initial Australian release took the form of a six-track EP and included an extended version of "New Toy" and four previously released songs (this time recorded live at the Lyceum in London) [Note: Taken from 1980's "What Will I Do Without You" double 7"] plus a song called "Cat's Away". "New Toy" was written by Tom Dolby, a guy Lene met in America. "I met Tom when I did a tour with Bruce Woolley and The Camera Club. Later he just wrote me out of the blue and said that he'd had a dream about me." Dolby is now in her band and is also lurking around in the film clip.

[Note: The above-mentioned Australian six-track 12" EP and the Japanese six-track EP "New Toy" (both released in spring 1981, thus long before the actual "New Toy" EP (or mini-LP; see below) was even thought of) were just variations of the "New Toy" single release and have been decided for release by the Australian and Japanese local record labels. These releases, as well as the French five-track 12" EP "New Toy" (released in late 1982 or 1983), had no input from Lene or Stiff Records and are completely unrelated to the actual "New Toy" EP, which was an official new release of Lene's on her American label Epic Records (US, July 1981). The actual "New Toy" EP was also released in Canada and Australia (unrelated to the above-mentioned previously released Australian 12" EP).]

A "New Toy" mini-LP was released in the US and includes the title track, "Cat's Away" and four new songs. Lene is intently thinking about a new album. "My mind is so full of different directions at the moment. I suppose that's one problem of being commercially successful. The music we do is not in any particular vein and I'm not always the same person writing the same songs."

Did the 1981 Stiff Tour include some talented and sincere people? "On the last tour they had some great bands like Tenpole Tudor and Any Trouble, but," she added with a mischievous laugh, "I don't think there were enough girls on that tour!"

As the phone call drew to a close, Lene was at a loss to name some bands or artists that she was currently impressed with, saying only that she ". . . can appreciate almost anyone as long as they put a little depth in it and are sincere."

Music Sound Output (US; Aug 1983)

Judging from her new album and her successful shot at playing Mata Hari on stage, Lene Lovich remains the quirky godmother of the new wave.

"I don't have any one face really. My face is complicated, but it's also very plain. So it's easy for me to look different ways."

It was just a casual comment she tossed off about a photo of herself, but Lene Lovich's description of her face goes more than skin-deep. As time wore on, the artist and the person behind the costume became more and more apparent, and harder to pin down. Meanwhile, her music continued to grow, striking an agreeable balance between originality and accessibility.

After a hiatus of nearly two years, Lovich returned to the public eye last year with No Man's Land, her first full-length LP since 1980's Flex. The record places Lovich's throaty, evocative vocals in a musical setting that is perhaps her most diverse to date. Expanding on the sound of the New Toy mini LP, No Man's Land boasts an impressive array of synthesizer textures and places the guitar playing of Lovich's long-time partner Les Chappell even more squarely in the forefront.

"In the past, we used more piano and organ," the singer explains in a precise, gentle accent which reflects her mixed Anglo/American/European background. "We aren't using them so much now. We - Les in particular - are getting more into electronics. There is not more guitar actually, but it is more featured. Before, it was more a part of the orchestra."

Had Lovich had her way, the album would have come out much sooner, around the time the mini LP appeared. "That's when No Man's Land *should* have come out," she says, "but I was having a few problems with Stiff Records in England - over my musical direction, over me . . . everything." Without going into details, she indicates that these difficulties have since been resolved. Perhaps the stunning DOR success of New Toy [Note: DOR = dance oriented rock], which reached the Top 20 of Billboard's dance chart before it was even released in America, convinced the record company that Lene Lovich must be doing something right after all. [Note: Wrong; Stiff Records were not convinced by anything.]

As it turns out, these problems were something of a blessing in disguise. They opened up some new avenues of expression for Lovich: she became co-author and star of Mata Hari, a musical play which had a long and successful run at London's Lyric Theatre. Why did she make the leap from rock to the stage?

"There were a lot of reasons, really, that made the show come about," she answers. "I suppose the basic reason was that I was looking for an alternative way to present music. Not wanting to completely rearrange myself to suit the record company - that's not a very attractive idea to me - what I needed to do was find an alternative until things became resolved."

The alternative materialized through old friend Chris Judge Smith, founder of the seminal art-rock band Van Der Graaf Generator and contributor of several songs to Flex. A playwright and journalist as well as musician, Smith had been commissioned to write a treatment for a film about the turn-of-the-century dancer/adventuress/suspected spy, Mata Hari. The film was never made, but Lene became interested in the story. And when the Lyric Theatre offered to front the money for a stage production of the story, Lovich, Chappell and Smith decided to collaborate on the play.

Acting in a starring role was a first for Lovich. Naturally, it took some getting used to. "I found the politeness of the audience disarming," she says, "their passiveness. I don't mean that in a bad way at all, but at a rock gig, the audience is very strongly participating - dancing, shouting things out. The lights are very big, and the stage is usually elevated from the audience. But this being a very small theatre, I was very close to the audience. It required quite a different type of stamina. Leaving the stage and coming back was something I had never had to deal with before. To keep within the character, remember where you left off, come back, pick it up and carry on - that required a tremendous mental effort for me. The way I'm used to working, in a rock band, I feel the momentum building up throughout the entire show. I didn't know how to work another way. That was a bit hard, but I did enjoy it. It's actually given me more confidence."

While there are no definite plans yet, Lovich would like to bring Mata Hari to the United States and also release an album of music from the show - a blend of synthesizers with Indonesian gamelan, metallic xylophones and gongs. Rather than just transplant the current version of the show to American stages, though, she would like to let it evolve into something different.

"I would like to do it in a less literal way, perhaps make it more universal. Because, actually delving into the life of Mata Hari, you can see so many parallels that are relevant today to attitudes toward women and their role in the world - apart from that, all the parallels between a creative artist in that time and a creative artist in this time. So I would like to take a little bit away from the sensationalism of her being a strange character - flamboyant, elaborate - and make it relevant on a universal plane."

It's not hard to see some parallels between Lene Lovich and the character she had created in Mata Hari. The extravagantly costumed figure that for so many people is Lene Lovich may seem at first to contradict the emotional directness of many of her songs. But the image for her is not an image at all, but rather just a natural expression of personality and taste. "I don't really know how to orchestrate an image," she confesses. "I just do what I like and that's about it, really. I'm sure I've put a lot of people off, but then it would also be false for me to dress up in jeans and a T-shirt or whatever other bands wear . . . whatever is acceptable. That would be more weird. It would inhibit me a great deal to wear somebody else's uniform. I would be very uncomfortable."

As one of the first "rock women" fostered by late-Seventies new wave, she stood out from what was then a very select group. Never relaying on overt sexuality to get over, and penning such anthems as "Joan" on the Flex album and "Maria" on No Man's Land, Lovich seems a prime candidate for rock's leading female role-model. But such easy formulas never seem to work for her.

"I don't really think about this male and female type stuff very much at all," she explains. "Although I do have a lot of strong feelings about things not being fair for women, I don't direct myself to that position because I find it can narrow your vision so much. Maybe it's a very selfish attitude, but I've always found a way to express myself fully without many drawbacks as far as being female. I realize that in other professions, there is a certain amount of stereotyping that needs to be surpassed; but so many women use these stereotypes as vehicles to get themselves noticed that it makes it very difficult to progress sometimes.

"Sometimes I direct things toward girls during a show because there are a lot of females that come to our concerts. I really like that, because when I go to see other bands, I don't see so many girls. So I'll usually direct a song to them, but in my mind it's directed toward everybody."

Talking about compositions like "Joan" and "Maria," her concern with universality again comes across. "In 'Joan,' I just try to encourage people to follow their intuition - their innermost creative spirit. If there's something directing you which seems in opposition to the outside world, if it matters to you, then you should do it. I don't always feel confident myself and writing songs like that helps lift me out of these low periods."

"When I was writing, 'Maria,' in fact, I was trying to think of a name that was universal for both men and women. But there was something in my mind that kept saying 'Maria, Maria' all the time, and I had to listen to it. And of course, apart from the subject matter, I do think of the sounds of the words when I'm writing a song. That's important, and it can sway me to pick one word over another." [Note: The words "Maria, Maria" already appeared as male background vocal at one spot in the song "Joan".]

It's usually Lovich who comes up with the lyrics, but beyond this she finds it hard to make generalizations about how she writes songs with Les Chappell. "We're an inspiration to each other," she ventures. "I do usually write the words, but they're almost always inspired by some personal experience, or sometimes they're inspired by sound. Les is very often experimenting, playing something in some other room, and I can be some distance away and hear something in or around what he's doing. It can be anything, really . . . a few notes strung together that actually trigger off a picture in my mind. We rely totally on impulse. We never sit down to write a song, although I've had to do that in the past working with other people. All the songs were created because we wanted them to be there - not because we were looking for them, but because the songs seemed to want to exist themselves and we liked them enough to develop them. We have hundreds of little bits of music that we've recorded and later turn into songs. [Note: This does not mean that each recorded bit will eventually evolve into a song; it means that a certain amount of these little ideas recorded will go into one particular song in the end (Source: Other interviews).] Sometimes that can take a long time. Developing songs is where the actual songwriting technique comes in.

"I don't even know how we write songs. In a way, I'm only trying to thrill myself initially. If I'm thrilled by something, there's a fair amount of chance that other people will be thrilled by it as well. It's a selfish activity, really. I'm not thinking about the outside world in the initial stages."

"Lovich and Chappell have for some time now been working to complete a recording studio in their home in Norfolk, outside of London. Their home is a former vicarage which the church decided to sell. "When the new vicar came to our village, he didn't want to live in the house," Lene laughs. "He said it was an icebox; there was no heating."

Work on the studio has come along rather slowly, obviously a source of great frustration for Lovich. "There's still a long way to go," she sighs. "This whole business of not having a record out has had so many repercussions along the way. There was no income from either publishing or recording. It meant that we were very short of cash. But what we have done is get the space ready. We have a little bit of equipment, but we don't have the big, expensive equipment yet. That's the next step. We have a few ideas how to organize this and perhaps there's a possibility of borrowing somebody else's equipment for a time."

What the couple are aiming for is a 16-track studio primarily for themselves but large enough to accommodate the entire group. They would like to make their records there in the future, but Lene is just a little apprehensive about it. "We might have to mix somewhere else because some of the equipment that we've used in the past is quite expensive; and at the moment, I think we're going to spend our money on the tape machine and basics."

Had things gone differently, No Man's Land could have been recorded at Lovich and Chappell's home studio. But as it was, the record was done piecemeal at a number of English studios. "We did tiny little pieces whenever we could grab studio time," Lovich says. "I didn't want it to sound patchy. I wanted it to have one positive impact. I have to thank Bob Clearmountain; he remixed the whole album and made it sound like a single project. He was able to do that without taking away or adding anything. I like him so much and I'd like to work with him again; he's a real artist."

The consistency of No Man's Land can also be attributed to Lovich's regular ensemble of players - bassist Mark Hayward-Chaplin, drummer Justin Hildreth and pianist Dean Klevatt, who form the nucleus of the band on the record. She's been working with these musicians for some time now, and surrounding herself with the right people is something she values highly. "There's a style of playing that you like," she says, "and who you can work with personality-wise is also very important. Something I've found about working in an outside studio, especially if the engineer is not on your wavelength, is you wear yourself out a lot trying to relate your ideas to the musicians and the engineer. Quite often, you spend a lot of time justifying your ideas. What you want to do may be a load of rubbish, but until you hear it, it's no good for them to say it's not going to work. I can't deal with that. They must try it. I find that to be one of the most frustrating things about working in the studio."

By the same token, she's not really interested in using obedient studio musicians who will contribute nothing of their own style. "You've got to try to find a sort of compromise," she explains, "where the musicians feel confident about their ideas and they like your music so they want to contribute their ideas. That's great. Sometimes their ideas might be better than mine. That's how it is when you work with a band."

One musician whose collaborations with Lovich have been especially fruitful is Thomas Dolby, who wrote "New Toy" and occasionally plays keyboards for Lovich both live and on record. The two artists have actually known one another for quite a while now.

"About three years ago, I did a tour here in America," Lovich recalls, "and there was a band called Bruce Woolley and The Camera Club who were on the same label. Thomas played keyboards for Bruce Woolley, and that's where I first met him. Sometime after that, I was looking for a keyboard player and I got a letter from Tom. At first, I didn't recognize his name. He just said he had a dream about me. I was curious enough to follow it up, and I was glad to get in touch with Tom again. We did a bit of rehearsing together and he brought me a tape of a song he'd written called 'New Toy,' which I related to straightaway and wanted to record. He became involved in recording with us then and came to America with us when we did that mini-tour."

Dolby also plays on one track on No Man's Land, "Rocky Road," and turned up on keyboard during a gig at New York's Ritz during Lovich's most recent tour. She's returned the favor by appearing on a few of Dolby's own projects. "I recorded with him on his album," she says, "backing vocals mainly. I appeared in his videos, too. There's a video for a song called 'Radio Silence' that I'm in, but I'm looking different. I have a blond wig on and look like quite a different person. Not many people know it's me."

Lovich is quite pleased at her friend's recent American success with "She Blinded Me with Science," but admits to being a bit perplexed as to why it happened when it did. "A lot of people don't realize Tom had a record out before," she says. "They think it's a new album. So it seems his record company has reissued his original album. So much depends on timing here in America. It has nothing to do with the quality of the music. It's just whether things are right for the time."

And what about her own progress in the U.S.? Her records have won her a substantial cult following here, but except for the DOR success of New Toy, she has yet to score a major hit. How does she feel about that?

"I suppose I'm probably most pleased with things in America than anywhere else. I seem to have a fair amount of respect here as an artist, which is very important to me. It's more important than actually having a hit record. A little while ago, I came to New York to work on Tom Verlaine's album Words from the Front. I've always admired and respected Tom Verlaine, and now he's a friend of mine. To be able to be respected in that way that people want to work with you, that's the biggest compliment you can receive. And that's very important to me."

Collage (US; April 1980)

Lene Lovich & Her Cuckoo-Bird Voice

"We have a show in England called "Top of the Pops" - it's really a chart show," says Lene Lovich. "And one thing I've always thought about: my mother's always been concerned about me. She wondered why I was still in art school, when I was getting so old." She pauses, chuckling. "She wanted me to have a job, a career of some kind. When I became involved in music, she thought it was even less stable. And I think it was when I got on "Top of the Pops" that I knew my mother would feel, uh, happier about the situation."

Lene opens her eyes wide and looks over at the video camera standing on a tripod a few feet away. She flashes a dazzling, toothy smile and fiddles with a bow-like decoration in her plaited russet hair. On tour promoting her second Stiff Records LP, Flex, Lovich is surrounded in her motel room by lighting equipment, microphones, cables and all the trappings of television as she glides through simultaneous interviews with Videowest and Collage.

Lene's talent lies in her ability to project her hiccupy, cuckoo-bird voice with such impassioned, breathless sincerity that she nearly takes your breath away. "Beware of promises," she sings in "The Night," a look at her mercurial first year in the record business.

"The Night" is "not only about the record business, but people in general who tell you stories in order to keep you happy," cautions Lovich. "People can lead you into a false sense of security, and if you're not smart enough to be able to see beyond that, you can get yourself into big trouble emotionally. I'd rather always know the truth."

While demands of fame have created a host of problems - among them, a minimization of her personal privacy - Lovich continues to maintain an open, friendly attitude toward her public. "One of the main problems in this business is being able to speak for yourself, being allowed to get through to people," she says, "I'm very concerned about that. I don't want to be an elitist person, I don't want to be obscure for the sake of it, I don't want to hide myself away. So I talk to people whenever I can.

"I don't really like the idea of stars," she says. "I think that, in the very near future, there will be less stars. And there will be more alternatives, more people sharing the limelight. I think that's a better situation. People would probably like a lot of different things if they were just exposed to them."

But for all her populist theories, Lene admits that she is occasionally bothered by fans who "are quite attracted to what they think it's like to be involved in this business. You find people interested in your private life - what kind of food you eat. It puts you up for an examination that most people never have to face. That's okay, if you don't mind being disturbed and have a lot of time.

"But it can be a bit disturbing. Sometimes I'll walk into a launderette, and people are suddenly concerned that, 'You're here alone, doing your laundry? What?' They don't understand. They have these odd ideas of what people in the music business are like. I mean, I like clean clothes as much as anybody." She bursts with laughter.

Lene's reaction to the demands of notoriety has been to forge a tighter bond with Les Chappell: "Life is a struggle for one/Make it double and two can survive," she confides in a tune called "Wonderful One." This may seem a bit prosaic for a woman whose stage presence is outrageously cartoonish - all flailing arms, can-can kicks and melodramatic facial expressions - but she insists that "the music we do is not just a visual thing, not just a gimmick, a theatrical experience. I like to involve mental images. When people get angry or sad, their minds are full of pictures. I try to piece together a story that contains these pictures."

Not surprisingly, Lovich has been one of the first artists in the emerging field of rock-video. "Stiff is very aware that the idea of using video is a very progressive thing to be interested in," she says. "The world is a very big place, and if you intend to reach many people it helps to be able to send a visual image so that people can understand your feelings behind the songs.

"Of course, video is a financial problem, because it's so expensive. But Stiff feels it is a good investment. So now we have a person working full time at Stiff who has been involved with films for a long time; we are creating a unit within the company for visual presentation. Stiff is just learning about video and the whole idea of video discs for the future. And I think it will be important in the future, especially here in America, because of the conservativeness that you find on radio. That's forcing video to become more important all the time.

"I'm just interested in presenting a total picture of what I do," she smiles gently. "And as you can't possibly be physically in the room with every person who plays your record, I think maybe video is the next closest thing.

"I don't want to become isolated, like somebody living on their own planet," says Lovich, growing serious and quiet. "I really like this world a lot. If I didn't like it, I think I'd remove myself from it, either mentally or physically. But I do like it, and I want to be part of it. Being in music can't keep me from that."

The Island Ear (Long Island/NY; 09 May 1983)

Star Spot: Lene Lovich

Favorite Food: Raw mushrooms

Favorite Color: Red

Favorite Movie: The Night of the Hunter

Favorite Actor: Robert De Niro

Favorite Actress: Greta Garbo

Favorite TV Show: Outer Limits

Favorite Album: Waiting for the Sun - The Doors

Favorite Single: Purple Haze - Jimi Hendrix

Favorite Group: Nina Hagen

Favorite Pastime: Walking at night

Biggest Dislike: Hypocrisy

Interview

-The interview was originally to take place before your show at Malibu, but we had to postpone it because you were having difficulty with your voice. Is that something that happens often because of the nature of your singing style and you work your voice a bit too hard?

LL: No, it doesn't really have that much to do with the way I sing. It's mainly just due to wear & tear tiredness. We don't have the luxury of having too many days off because it all costs money to keep a band and crew together on the road, so we have to keep moving. Other people get a chance to rest and obviously since my time here is so short I tuck as much into the the day as I can, so I'm often working all day and all night and your body shows it in the way that it does.

-Are there any precautions you can take to stop that from happening?

LL: I think it's unavoidable but for my voice I always take a lot of honey. I think it helps you with a bit of instant energy and it certainly helps to avoid the shock of singing.

-What are the differences that you've been able to notice on this tour as opposed to your last American tour (3 years ago)?

LL: Maybe the audience is more varied than it used to be. I don't know if it's because the music I do is more acceptable nowadays, but I certainly see people from a lot different lifestyles turning up.

-When you say that the music you do is more acceptable, do you think it's your music or "new music" in general that is more acceptable?

LL: I'd have to say new music in general. I don't really know how I figure in this new music thing because it's not very new to me.

-I was just looking through Billboard Magazine and I was surprised to find that your new album is not on the charts. Why do you suppose that is?

LL: I don't know. There are many things to consider and I know from a practical point of view that the record is not really being promoted. I know that. It is a bit distressing especially when you go to the trouble and expense and the wear and tear that it takes to go out on the road. I'm happy to be here but since I'm stuck in a not very attractive situation of being not signed directly to the company (Epic), but being signed via my English record company (Stiff).

-And Stiff doesn't have an office here.

LL: No, they've very foolishly closed their offices here. I'm in an unfortunate situation here where the record company has given a big advance to Stiff, which I see nothing of. Now the record company feels that they can't promote it because they paid too much for the record. It'll have to be resolved someday. But our tour is successful. We sold out here in L.A. a month in advance when groups who are being played on the radio heavily and are playing here at the same time, aren't. It's a great feeling. To be honest I don't really feel like I need the reassurance of a hit record when I've got such strong supporters. All I really need to do to make things possible is to have enough people supporting us so that we can continue.

-Do you think that one of the reasons you haven't had as much success in America is because there are various European influences in your music that may be foreign to rock & roll ears here?

LL: Yes. But as well as it having a European feeling, it also has a very basic human feeling to it and I think that should be universal.

-How did your recent stage production in England of Mata Hari come about?

LL: With having the problems with the English record company, I had to find an alternative way to be able to make music without having a record out, which is really almost impossibe when you get to a certain professional stage where you can't ask people to work for you for nothing. You need some way to find to do this without it costing you money. Certainly with not having a record out in two years there was no money coming in. Another reason was that I went to see a musical play by a friend of mine who wrote two songs on Flex, Chris Judge Smith. I suppose the idea just came to me to do a stage show so I could involve myself in music and at the same time there wouldn't be tremendous touring expenses and it would be a very interesting project.

-Did people come to see Lene Lovich, the pop star, or did theater people also come?

LL: It was a real cross-section of all types of people. Some very old and some very young.

-Do you have plans of bringing the show to America?

LL: I would really like to because there seems to have been so much interest in it and I'd really like to do it again, but I'd like to take some time away from it. I think there are so many different ways to tell the story and for my own interest really, I'd like to try another version of it.

-What about doing film work?

LL: I was involved in a film last year in France that was made for T.V. and that was an exciting experience for me.

-With music?

LL: I played the part of a singer. I'd like to be involved in acting but I'd like the opportunity to step aside from my real self and most of the parts that I'm offered is to play a character exactly the same as myself. So there's not any real challenge there but the experience is still new to me.

-Do you find it a challenge transposing your songs into video?

LL: I love the idea of it, but it's very difficult to make more than one interpretation of a song without being completely random about it. This is something I find hard to deal with because I see myself on many different planes, really.

-I could understand where a video could limit the many images and atmospheres of your songs.

LL: I would like to make three or four videos of the same song, but that's a luxury I can't really afford.

-What singers around today do you find interesting?

LL: It's difficult really because there are not so many people who I find who are following their own creative ideas. There are so many people who are walking down the same sort of road. I like very much Nina Hagen. I know her as well and in a way that may have something to do with it. I like the way she's using her voice in a creative way. People may not agree with her philosophies or whatever, but just if you really listen to her voice she uses it in a creative way. I find it really difficult and I don't have a lot of time to listen to an awful lot of music, so there are probably a lot of people out there who are being very interesting in what they do with their voices and I probably just haven't come across them. You tend to find two or three different types of styles of singing which everybody else kind of goes along with. I really just find that it's not very attractive to me because I'd rather listen to different types of music. It doesn't matter what kind of music it is. Unfortunately, in this new music situation, there are certain stereotyped ways of delivering a song.

-Boring?

LL: If enough people do it, it does become boring.

-Other artists have imitated your style and have had more success with it. How do you feel about that?

LL: Maybe some of the reasons why they've been more successful is because in a way they are more simplified. They have tuned in to two or three of the planes and made it easier perhaps for the audience to accept the idea.

-Does the thought ever go through your mind, 'Maybe I should make music that will work for them - especially Americans'?

LL: It has been suggested to me a lot. This happened to me while I was at art school and I think I just woke up one day and decided there was absolutely no point in me being on this earth to do somebody else's art. (Apart from a period of work where I was learning about music, when I did have to work with other people's music and it was for a specific purpose). Now that I have had a kind of freedom, there is no way that I can give away any of that freedom.