Tune
Magazine:
Two years ago when you were touring off the album, The Wild Places,
you told me that that album was the best thing you'd done in ten years,
since The Innocent Age. Was it easy for you to capture the same
spirit and philosophy while making the River of Souls?
Dan Fogelberg: A lot of people will probably think that this is very different
for me, but I don't. I think that it is a continuation of The Wild
Places. I kind of group these two records together in some strange
way. They just kind of flow together. I never really stopped recording
from one to the next. I had the live album there that kind of threw us
off for awhile, but like "Serengeti Moon", on this album was done for
The Wild Places, and since it didn't fit that album, it ended up
on this one. Putting that song on this album opened me up to putting other
types of songs on this album that had some world influences on it. "Serengeti
Moon" was written in 1984.
TM: In 1982, you
released a Greatest Hits album that pretty much summed up your
first ten years in the business, and then you released Greetings
from the West in 1991, which was a live album of hits that pretty
much summed up your work in the 80's. With The Wild Places and
River of Souls, are they the beginning, or the end of another
direction for Dan Fogelberg?
DF: Yes, I think so.
TM: Is it a healthy
new path?
DF: Musically, and creatively, certainly it is. Unquestionably. Commercially,
no, because the music has gotten highly political and environmentally
sensitive. These albums haven't really dealt with the staples of the
pop music industry. When you write a song like "River Of Souls", which
is this bizarre mystical journey across this line into death, that's
not really pop. So, as I have gotten further in my own spiritual and
evolutionary path, I don't write about simple issues as much as I used
to. I certainly don't write as much autobiographical music as I used
to. And let's face it, that's what makes this business go round.
TM: In looking over
the albums you released over the years, it seems to me that you went
through some period of disenchantment with either yourself or the music
business. I say that only because the only thing I really heard from
DF in the past ten years was the song, "The Language of Love". Did you
go through some rough times in the 80's emotionally, or did the tremendous
success of The Innocent Age set a disturbing pattern for you
to start the 80's with thus affecting your future work?
DF: That's a very interesting, and good, observation on your part. I
would say a little bit of both really. Usually when I do something that
I feel is a peak like that (The Innocent Age), I have a tendency
to change direction. It's just instinctual with me. I did the same thing
with Twin Sons Of Different Mothers after Nether Lands.
But you know what? I like doing that. I like throwing people off the
scent a little bit. I don't want to be thought of as predictable, and
I don't want people to say, "Okay, here's another Fogelberg album!"
but I am intrigued by that. I enjoy moving around and taking changes.
TM: Was the High
Country Snows LP one of those chances?
DF: Yes. A lot of those things happen organically. That album was an
idea that I had and it was time to do it. I was lucky enough to get
the right players to do that project. I had no illusions that it was
going to be the biggest commercial success of my career. I did the album
for all the right reasons - to have fun and simply enjoy making music.
In fact, it says it very clearly on that record. I have never enjoyed
recording more than I did on that project. There have been other albums
that have been pure torture, like Exiles. That was a very hard
album to record because you are constantly reliving the painful experience
you've had.
TM: What was painful
about Exiles?
DF: It was an album about divorce.
TM: When you throw
people off the path you've carved out, can't that be as damaging to
your career as it can be healthy?
DF: Not if you still make quality music and have a loyal audience out
there who believes that your work is good. I am fortunate enough to
have built a very loyal audience that is willing to go through those
changes with me. The consistency of my albums has remained there for
all those years though it hasn't peaked like it did for The Innocent
Age. I feel very comfortable in making changes in my music because
I know there are people out there listening for it.
TM: I would think
that during the two decades you've been creating music, you have had
two distinct types of careers that marked the 70's and again marked
the 80's. Am I off base by saying that?
DF: The 70's was still an outgrowth of the 60's when I started making
music. A lot of us who had initial successes were an outgrowth of the
Crosby, Stills, and Nash/Poco country folk rock of the late 60's, early
70's. Myself, the Eagles, Jackson Browne, that's what we all came out
of. We were part of the singer/songwriter boom of the early 70's. The
music was commercial at that time and remained so throughout the decade.
TM: Your career
certainly took on a different twist when the 80's hit.
DF: My career throughout the 80's was rather eccentric, and I am very
proud of it. I like the fact that I had a lot of commercial hit records
coupled with other albums where people's first reaction was 'WHAT?!"
TM: Thank God for
loyal audiences!
DF: You know, I never got into music to be the latest, greatest thing.
I'm a musician because that is what I am. I will create music the way
I want to whether a million people are listening, or no one is listening.
That's not the point of creating music. The point is following your
own creative instincts.
TM: I would think,
Dan, that shock, in the musical sense, is for your close friends, not
loyal audiences that have stuck with you through your own eccentricities.
Do you really think it's fair to subject them to your own personal moods
and whims?
DF: Listen, if you continue to write quality songs, you can go in different
directions without the fear of losing your audience. If the song writing
is good, I'm a fair believer that people
will not only understand it, but get into it as well.
TM:
Do you believe in causes that affect mankind? I ask that because it
seems as though your album, River of Souls, is another environmental
awareness that seems to be of major concern within the music community
today.
DF:
The album certainly is, and that's why the project was so dear to me.
My lifestyle has always been one that's close to the earth. I have always
lived away from civilization, and the album started germinating in me
a long time ago.
TM: But
doesn't that type of attitude defeat your purpose in getting Dan Fogelberg's
message across?
DF:
No, it doesn't. I think the music says it all. The timing to me is not
the point. I create the music. I don't live in a city where there's
a quote, 'music business', because I'm not a music business type of
person. That part of it is not an important part to me. I have a great
many other interests other than the music business and I do my changes.
I do what I can, in my own way privately more than publicly. I have
done a great many benefits and interviews where I have dealt with the
environment and I've tried to enlighten people.
TM:
Did your self-imposed isolation contribute to your eccentricities?
DF:
Of course; that's why I did it.
TM: But
did you need the isolation away from mankind?
DF:Yes,
I absolutely do. I am not a city type person. I don't function well
in that type of environment. I don't hate people. I just feel a lot
better when I'm not around them. I have a tendency to keep to myself
and make my music. I don't plan to change the world, I'd just like to
help. The best way to change the world is to change yourself. It's an
old cliché, but it's true. My own lifestyle reflects the changes
in my life and hopefully the music communicates this.
TM:
As Exiles exposed the emotional trauma of a divorce, did it also
reawaken your senses to other things around you?
DF:
Yes. When you work through something like that - a painful experience
that ultimately becomes a liberating experience - then you're free to
reassess your priorities which I did. I found the freedom in my life
to address those parts of my life which I hadn't been able to do previously.
TM:
Did this isolation that you crave contribute to your marriage falling
apart and your music going off into all sorts of directions?
DF:
No. I've always believed that I had a real clear musical purpose. The
changes people go through are unpredictable in any relationship.
TM:
How long were you married?
DF:
I wasn't married for very long, but I had been with this person for
many, many years. The only influence that relationship had was on Exiles.
Most of the time I have been dealing with whatever I felt like dealing
with.
TM: The
musical peak that you've referred to has centered around your brilliant
album, The Innocent Age, which you created during the disco/urban
cowboy craze of 1980. What were the circumstances surrounding that album?
DF:
That album just happened on its own. It was an amazingly creative period
for me and that's why it became a double album. I just kept writing
and writing, and the music was flowing. Those are the times in an artist's
life when you just hold on and go along for the ride. It wasn't anything
that I planned really. I was turning 30, and this album became an important
philosophical point in my life that was translating itself into a lot
of music and I just went with it. Don't get me wrong. The Innocent
Age was a difficult record to make and there were a lot of other
circumstances involved with it. I'm very proud of that and again, that
was an album that I felt I fully realized, and you don't get that outburst
of inspiration every day. So, when those periods come about, you learn
as you get older to really appreciate them and make them the best that
they can be.
TM:
That's always been my favorite album because of the song, "Same Old
Lang Syne". Believe me, there have been times in my past where I could
see myself being in the same situation you were in throughout that song.
Did the song's story really take place?
DF:
Absolutely. It was back in 1976 and I was at my parent's house in Illinois.
I had gone out to get some whipping cream at 7-11 for a Christmas Eve
dinner and I ran into my old high school girlfriend who I hadn't seen
in ages and ages. What I said in that song really happened. She spilled
her purse, we had a beer, and even though it didn't seem that big of
a deal at the time, it made for a wonderfully romantic song.
TM: Listening
to that song brings back a flood of memories of what could have been,
and what will never be. Were the emotions that strong on you?
DF: You
know what? A lot of people have come up to me and said they've had similar
things happen to them. In fact, I get more questions about that song
than anything I've ever written. At first, I had intended to write the
song as a joke because when I put the lyrics together, it sounded kind
of silly. But, as it evolved and took a life of its own, it turned out
to be a pretty good song.
TM: Have
you had to have these changes forced upon you, or is it just a part
of growing up?
DF:
Oh, it's just a part of growing up. I'm sure my record company would
like nothing more than for me to be writing nothing but love songs.
That's what they can sell. It is much tougher to be selling six and
seven minute songs like this, which express some very deeply held convictions,
than little three minute pop ballads. I'm sure Epic would love for me
to return and do some of that. Whether I do it or not, I can't predict.
I can only go where the music takes me, where my own personal evolution
takes me.
TM: Do
you really care about commercial success?
DF:
Not like I used to, no. There's a trade-off. I still make a great living
doing this, there's no question about that. Once you get to that certain
pinnacle, the 20,000 seaters and the selling of millions and millions
of records, part of you is jealous that that doesn't stay with you the
rest of your life. You have to look at it as a career. I'm very fortunate
to be here 22 year later. A lot of people aren't.
TM:
Would you have wanted a musical career on par with the Rolling Stones,
that spans the decades?
DF:
No. Again, that's part of the lifestyle that I have chosen. I have really
shied away from being public. The music business has gotten more into
image than it has the music. It's almost like you have to have controversy
to get your music noticed. That's not the sort of life I wanted to live.
As a musician, I hope that I do good work and I'm respected for it.
On the commercial side of it and the public side of it, I've never tried
to exploit it to its fullest.
TM:
The last couple of years I've been interviewing country artists, an
interesting parallel has developed. Country music is going through the
spectrum of change today that you, Jackson Browne, Poco, the Eagles
and others of the folk rock era created in the early 70's. In fact,
you've often been cited as a major influence by some of the artists
I've talked to. You know, if you had put out High Country Snows
in today's market, you probably would have had a smash hit album on
the country charts.
DF:
(Laughing) Perhaps. It has been interesting to watch country music in
the past couple of years from my standpoint. It's obvious that the folk
rock I was involved with is a major influence on country music. I mean,
look at this Eagles tribute album that was just released. Admittedly,
that was the doing of Don (Henley) and Irving (Azoff), and it's being
done to help his Walden Pond Project, but yeah, everybody coming out
of Nashville these days is trying to do what we did 20 years ago in
L.A. and they are having enormous success with it.
TM:
Have you talked about this with any of your friends?
DF:
It's funny, but last summer, Don, J.D. Souther, Jackson Browne and myself
got together to do this video, and the four of us were singing this
old song we had all worked on back in 1973-74 for one of Jackson's albums,
and we were singing the song to these images of dancers up on a screen.
It was a promo spot NBC had asked Jackson to do for the Barcelona Olympics.
As we were lip synching to the tape, we suddenly started singing the
parts and the whole video production stopped. Here was this sound that
none of us had experienced in a long, long time, and we just kind of
looked at each other and said, "Wow, listen to that!" We kept on singing
together for the rest of the night and it was really fun. We commented
to each other that these country singers are making zillions off this
music we helped pioneer. We then told each other we'd get back together
to sing on each other's records, but of course, it never happened.
TM:
Nice thought while it lasted?
DF:
Yeah. I mean, who would have ever thought that 20 years later people
would be emulating that sound. And to be honest with you, it wasn't
really us. We were imitating Crosby, Stills, and Nash, the Buffalo Springfield,
and the Byrds. The generations keep going on, and I am glad that there
is someplace for harmonic and melodic music in the business.
TM:
What you and your friends created in the 70's not only survived the
entire decade, but it's still as influential today as it was back then.
There's quite a testimony to the music's staying power.
DF:
That's true, and even though I did sell a lot of albums in the 70's,
the bulk of my musical success came in the 80's. I don't like the idea
of being labeled a 70's artist. I was just starting to kick in towards
the end of the 70's. My biggest success was from 1980-84 when I got
away from that sound of the 70's. I started finding my own sound during
"Old Lang Syne', and "Make Love Stay", those types of records. There
really wasn't an Eagles or West Coast sound although we all started
there.
TM:
Have you found that over the years, people have not wanted Dan Fogelberg
to change?
DF: Oh,
absolutely. It is the most frustrating thing in the music business to
change and grow creatively and to take creative risks. Sometimes it
can be very successful like with Twins Sons of Different Mothers,
and at other times, it can throw people way off the track, like High
Country Snows. People either come up to me and say, 'That's the
greatest record you ever made!" or they'll go, "Why in the hell did
you do that?" The media also has a tendency to want to put you in one
little area. What has been the hardest for me, and that has stuck to
me for the last ten years, is to break out of the sensitive, acoustic
singer/songwriter label. As a guitarist, producer and writer, obviously
I've done a lot more than that in my career, but once you get stuck
with that label, it is really hard to shake it off. It's like Jackson
trying to be a rocker. Jackson Browne is an incredible rock and roll
artist, but he's still kind of trapped within the confines of his sensitive
singer/songwriter label. I haven't heard his new record yet, but I've
heard he's gone back a little to what people want to hear from him.
It's a hard line to walk to satisfy yourself both artistically and creatively
and still maintain something that the audience is going to buy and listen
to.
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