Gerardo
03-03-2003, 10:38 PM
The Classic Eye Interview: Steve Howe
Part 1: Intro
Interview by special correspondent Shawn Perry
<center><img src="http://classicrock.about.com/library/graphics/howe_skyline.jpg"></center>
It's safe to say that, as a guitarist, Steve Howe is in a class of his own. For over 30 years, the 55-year-old native Londoner has been unreeling his unique twang and trawl with the propensity and dexterity of a true virtuoso. His chartered membership with Yes has given him carte blanche as an explorer of sonic textures, resulting in some wildly ambitious projects that would put many of his peers to shame. Howe made two inspiring solo albums in the 70s that accurately accentuated his mastery of the guitar. When Yes disbanded in 1980, Howe went on to achieve even greater commercial success as a founding member of both Asia and GTR. And even though Yes reunited without him during the 80s and upped the ante as a multiplatinum contender, it was clear that by the end of the decade, both parties yearned for the days of pomp and artistic pretentiousness.
In 1989, Howe teamed up with Jon Anderson, Rick Wakeman and Bill Bruford -- all previous members of Yes -- and recorded a self-titled album. Two years later, Anderson, Wakeman, Howe and Bruford combined forces with other Yes alumni for a full-blown reunion album and tour appropriately entitled Union. Howe subsequently embarked upon a prolific solo career that has produced over a dozen albums. But that didn't prevent him from migrating back to Yes in the mid 90s, where he's been ever since. And even with Yes occupying much of his time, Howe's solo output continues unabated. Skyline is his latest -- a low-key, ambient collection that vividly captures the guitarist in full stride, accompanied by only one other musician, keyboardist/percussionist Paul Sutin.
As an avid follower of progressive rock, I was more than eager to speak to the man who has been such a big part of the Yes sound since 1970 (not to mention a major impact on the guitar in general). The following interview took place in January. Later that very same day I was at the NAMM (National Association for Music Merchants) show in Anaheim, California and happened to bump into Yes bassist Chris Squire. I told him I had just gotten off the phone with Steve. Two Yes guys in one day -- what more could a prog lover want.
* * *
I caught Yes twice at the Universal Amphitheater here in Los Angeles last year, and after listening to Skyline, I'm astounded by this stylistic balance you maintain. With that in mind, do you conscientiously attempt to distance yourself from Yes when doing a solo project such as Skyline, or is it something that just sort of naturally flows from your fingers?
The Classic Eye Interview: Steve Howe
Part 2: Skyline/Solos
<center><img src="http://classicrock.about.com/library/graphics/stevehowe_1.jpg"></center>
I caught Yes twice at the Universal Amphitheater here in Los Angeles last year, and after listening to Skyline, I'm astounded by this stylistic balance you maintain. With that in mind, do you conscientiously attempt to distance yourself from Yes when doing a solo project such as Skyline, or is it something that just sort of naturally flows from your fingers?
I am the guitarist for Yes and I provide a certain amount of that sound. But when I'm not with Yes, I have an awful lot of choices. As a solo guitarist, I can make albums like Natural Timbre (2001), which is just acoustic. And I can make my rock albums like Turbulence (1991) or Quantum Guitar (1998). So I have a lot of choices. What I learned from my first two albums that I did for Atlantic was that I can't do everything I want to do on one CD. I like to streamline and work on projects where they composite a certain time and style. I'm looking -- not desperately in any sense at all -- and I'm trying other styles to play in, instead of presenting something like The Grand Scheme Of Things (1993) where there was a mixture of different types of pieces.
Skyline was a great opportunity for me to go somewhere I hadn't really gone before. It's much more laid back and ambient. There's but one bit of distortion on the whole record, on the guitar on one track, but the rest of the album is really one clear idea. This one is all about the clouds.
You're playing a lot of different guitars with a few other exotic instruments tossed in. And the way I understand it, there was a degree of improvisation involved. Still, when you were writing, were you envisioning all of these instruments in the mix to achieve a particular sound?
A little. I might have some ideas, but then I start to sift through a track and sort things out and turn things off and sort of rethink it, as I might do when I'm about to decide more clearly what sounds I want to feature or what guitar I'm going to play on this tune or that tune. Those opportunities come up. Mostly for Skyline, there were the ones I'm playing my favorite guitar straight into the deck, which is an idea that I like very much. It's a very, very pure sound. And that's featured on good number of the tracks. I mix that with steel parts and a 12-string. Those are the main soloing instruments I'm playing now...odd pieces, Spanish or acoustic. But you know, there's quite a bit of strumming. It's a much gentler vehicle for me.
You've collaborated with a number of musicians over the years. Of those, you've played with some world-class drummers like Bill Bruford, Carl Palmer, Alan White and your son Dylan. The percussion of Skyline is very toned down by Paul Sutin, who is really isn't a drummer at all.
He's primarily a keyboard player and we've made a couple of albums together. I worked with him on one called Serephim (1988) and another called Voyagers (1995). He also took care of things on Skyline. Of course, the other four tracks he didn't play on, I did that. There are seven tracks Paul co-wrote with me. And then there are the four tracks I wrote, and I play pretty much everything. On "Small Acts Of Human Kindness" I play keyboards; and there's other things on the ones I wrote -- "Resonance," "Simplification" and "The Anchor." This is a different style where there isn't a lot of percussion, like what we did on Magnification (2001), which is so grand. I wanted to have a bit of fun, and I wrote "Simplification" as the opposite of "Magnification." That's what that track is...the opposite...one person playing.
It's funny you should bring that up, because when I heard "Simplification," I started thinking about those majestic lines you play on "Gates Of Delirium."
Oh Yeah...nice, simple melodies. I didn't initially think about playing "Gates" on steel, but when I heard Jon singing it, I wanted to play it. So I played it on guitar, and then I tried it on steel. As soon as I played it on steel, it was just made for it (laughs).
How do you come up with the titles for some of these instrumentals?
I have a lot of fun actually. I enjoy titling. Some things inspire me, which kind of strengthens my clarity of a picture. I'll give you an example: "Camera Obscura," which I did with Paul. It didn't have a title; it had a number for a while. It was Suite #3 or something. We kicked around some ideas, and I think it may have had an interim title. One day, I was with my daughter in Bristol and we toured this building. She said, 'You know what that is?' I said, 'No.' She said, 'It's called a camera obscura, a Victorian lookout point. You go inside this building and look down into this dish and it takes you around the whole perimeter where you're standing in the middle. It's an amazing thing. So then I thought about that tune (hums the song) and how it sort of goes around the corner, I saw an association, and liking the phrase 'camera obscura,' it seemed to fit.
Some tunes get titled after the event, and you write and structure them and you pick up on things -- 'Oh that would be nice for that song.' So that's a nice marriage when the idea comes and you can put two ideas together like that. That's an easy way of doing it. Other ideas stick for a long time. "Moon Song" stuck for ages. We used to call that one "The Angel" or "The Devil" or something (laughs). But I really didn't like those. Most titles can be overly simplistic, but they can become right for the song. You get titles like "Shifting Sands," which just kind of comes. I find it fun to kick around titles, but then eventually you have to come up with something. We had some last minute changes like "The Anchor." I wasn't sure what to call that one. And the same with "Simplification."
The way I titled the album was through my photography because I felt this album didn't really have a lead track. We could have called it "Small Acts Of Human Kindness," but I felt like wrapping the Skyline idea around it. "Secret Arrow" was a working title for the album for a while, but I really didn't see that in an imagery sense; I couldn't see a 'secret arrow.'
Do you find terms like 'new age' or 'smooth jazz' objectionable in describing Skyline?
I don't really mind what people call it. If those terms are a putdown, I don't really take them as such. And I don't think they are meant as that. New age went through a sort of a bad time when it wasn't very interesting (laughs). That's because everybody was sick of those records. Not necessary sick, but they'd dub them where nothing would happen for an hour. But they do have a whole usefulness. And mine certainly distills itself when the music becomes simpler. That goes back to medieval, if not pre-medieval, days when music was just one note. In the 6th century or maybe even earlier in the 4th century, nobody really thought about changing the note. A singular note was sufficient and everything was in monotone. It's fascinating how music has gotten more and more complicated. But at the same time now, you start to appreciate the simpleness as well. Something like the Gregorian chants or early local Spanish music where the voices are very beautiful and melodic, but it's not actually very complex, because they work at stages that, like Stravinsky, where they weren't there, they were hundreds and hundreds of years away from it. There was almost a fear of changing a note. Gradually, in around the 4th century, they broke away from the monotone where they progressed to medieval melodic music. The development is fascinating. We could talk for a whole hour about just this.
After listening to the ambient sound of Skyline, I have to wonder why you haven't, as far as I know, pursued any soundtrack work.
Most musicians would be lying if they said they wouldn't love to do a movie. I love cinematography and the idea that music can elevate film. They work in hand in hand. And I have a relationship with that. My brother, who lives in Australia, is a filmmaker there. So I have sort of an affinity with film. I've thought about it a lot. I'm not going to sit somewhere waiting for it to happen. I'm going to keep pursuing my music with the hope that one of my publishers will see it and maybe present something to me. I know there are stories where you can get commissions to do a movie. A lot of people may look at my solo albums and see something, but I'm also touring with Yes quite a bit, so how much time can I give? I once almost got involved with a television series, which shall remain nameless (laughs), but I found, in a way, that it wasn't going to work and I really didn't get on board with it. I didn't really like the commitment that I was expected to deliver something every week. I found it a bit inhibiting, so I didn't pursue it. But I wouldn't say it left a bad taste in my mouth. It just depends on the situation. I'd like to work with a brilliant director who wants the music to richly portray the theme. Obviously the guitar is a very powerful and expressive instrument, no less in the hands of someone like Jerry Douglas on the dobro. He's a fantastic player. Stunning really; his technique is masterful. Every time he plays, everything happens around him. The sort of influence that music has on film has to be endless. So, yeah, I'm 55 and I'd like to do a movie. I guess if one comes along, I'll be lucky to do it. I think I would have a lot of good experience to bring to it.
Well, I can certainly see where your music has a lot of cinematic qualities. When I listen to your solo stuff, I get the impression you're not really keen on going in any one direction. You're taking liberties, experimenting, and I assume getting a lot of personal fulfillment out of it. Would you say you approach each record with a different perspective and a different idea?
Part 1: Intro
Interview by special correspondent Shawn Perry
<center><img src="http://classicrock.about.com/library/graphics/howe_skyline.jpg"></center>
It's safe to say that, as a guitarist, Steve Howe is in a class of his own. For over 30 years, the 55-year-old native Londoner has been unreeling his unique twang and trawl with the propensity and dexterity of a true virtuoso. His chartered membership with Yes has given him carte blanche as an explorer of sonic textures, resulting in some wildly ambitious projects that would put many of his peers to shame. Howe made two inspiring solo albums in the 70s that accurately accentuated his mastery of the guitar. When Yes disbanded in 1980, Howe went on to achieve even greater commercial success as a founding member of both Asia and GTR. And even though Yes reunited without him during the 80s and upped the ante as a multiplatinum contender, it was clear that by the end of the decade, both parties yearned for the days of pomp and artistic pretentiousness.
In 1989, Howe teamed up with Jon Anderson, Rick Wakeman and Bill Bruford -- all previous members of Yes -- and recorded a self-titled album. Two years later, Anderson, Wakeman, Howe and Bruford combined forces with other Yes alumni for a full-blown reunion album and tour appropriately entitled Union. Howe subsequently embarked upon a prolific solo career that has produced over a dozen albums. But that didn't prevent him from migrating back to Yes in the mid 90s, where he's been ever since. And even with Yes occupying much of his time, Howe's solo output continues unabated. Skyline is his latest -- a low-key, ambient collection that vividly captures the guitarist in full stride, accompanied by only one other musician, keyboardist/percussionist Paul Sutin.
As an avid follower of progressive rock, I was more than eager to speak to the man who has been such a big part of the Yes sound since 1970 (not to mention a major impact on the guitar in general). The following interview took place in January. Later that very same day I was at the NAMM (National Association for Music Merchants) show in Anaheim, California and happened to bump into Yes bassist Chris Squire. I told him I had just gotten off the phone with Steve. Two Yes guys in one day -- what more could a prog lover want.
* * *
I caught Yes twice at the Universal Amphitheater here in Los Angeles last year, and after listening to Skyline, I'm astounded by this stylistic balance you maintain. With that in mind, do you conscientiously attempt to distance yourself from Yes when doing a solo project such as Skyline, or is it something that just sort of naturally flows from your fingers?
The Classic Eye Interview: Steve Howe
Part 2: Skyline/Solos
<center><img src="http://classicrock.about.com/library/graphics/stevehowe_1.jpg"></center>
I caught Yes twice at the Universal Amphitheater here in Los Angeles last year, and after listening to Skyline, I'm astounded by this stylistic balance you maintain. With that in mind, do you conscientiously attempt to distance yourself from Yes when doing a solo project such as Skyline, or is it something that just sort of naturally flows from your fingers?
I am the guitarist for Yes and I provide a certain amount of that sound. But when I'm not with Yes, I have an awful lot of choices. As a solo guitarist, I can make albums like Natural Timbre (2001), which is just acoustic. And I can make my rock albums like Turbulence (1991) or Quantum Guitar (1998). So I have a lot of choices. What I learned from my first two albums that I did for Atlantic was that I can't do everything I want to do on one CD. I like to streamline and work on projects where they composite a certain time and style. I'm looking -- not desperately in any sense at all -- and I'm trying other styles to play in, instead of presenting something like The Grand Scheme Of Things (1993) where there was a mixture of different types of pieces.
Skyline was a great opportunity for me to go somewhere I hadn't really gone before. It's much more laid back and ambient. There's but one bit of distortion on the whole record, on the guitar on one track, but the rest of the album is really one clear idea. This one is all about the clouds.
You're playing a lot of different guitars with a few other exotic instruments tossed in. And the way I understand it, there was a degree of improvisation involved. Still, when you were writing, were you envisioning all of these instruments in the mix to achieve a particular sound?
A little. I might have some ideas, but then I start to sift through a track and sort things out and turn things off and sort of rethink it, as I might do when I'm about to decide more clearly what sounds I want to feature or what guitar I'm going to play on this tune or that tune. Those opportunities come up. Mostly for Skyline, there were the ones I'm playing my favorite guitar straight into the deck, which is an idea that I like very much. It's a very, very pure sound. And that's featured on good number of the tracks. I mix that with steel parts and a 12-string. Those are the main soloing instruments I'm playing now...odd pieces, Spanish or acoustic. But you know, there's quite a bit of strumming. It's a much gentler vehicle for me.
You've collaborated with a number of musicians over the years. Of those, you've played with some world-class drummers like Bill Bruford, Carl Palmer, Alan White and your son Dylan. The percussion of Skyline is very toned down by Paul Sutin, who is really isn't a drummer at all.
He's primarily a keyboard player and we've made a couple of albums together. I worked with him on one called Serephim (1988) and another called Voyagers (1995). He also took care of things on Skyline. Of course, the other four tracks he didn't play on, I did that. There are seven tracks Paul co-wrote with me. And then there are the four tracks I wrote, and I play pretty much everything. On "Small Acts Of Human Kindness" I play keyboards; and there's other things on the ones I wrote -- "Resonance," "Simplification" and "The Anchor." This is a different style where there isn't a lot of percussion, like what we did on Magnification (2001), which is so grand. I wanted to have a bit of fun, and I wrote "Simplification" as the opposite of "Magnification." That's what that track is...the opposite...one person playing.
It's funny you should bring that up, because when I heard "Simplification," I started thinking about those majestic lines you play on "Gates Of Delirium."
Oh Yeah...nice, simple melodies. I didn't initially think about playing "Gates" on steel, but when I heard Jon singing it, I wanted to play it. So I played it on guitar, and then I tried it on steel. As soon as I played it on steel, it was just made for it (laughs).
How do you come up with the titles for some of these instrumentals?
I have a lot of fun actually. I enjoy titling. Some things inspire me, which kind of strengthens my clarity of a picture. I'll give you an example: "Camera Obscura," which I did with Paul. It didn't have a title; it had a number for a while. It was Suite #3 or something. We kicked around some ideas, and I think it may have had an interim title. One day, I was with my daughter in Bristol and we toured this building. She said, 'You know what that is?' I said, 'No.' She said, 'It's called a camera obscura, a Victorian lookout point. You go inside this building and look down into this dish and it takes you around the whole perimeter where you're standing in the middle. It's an amazing thing. So then I thought about that tune (hums the song) and how it sort of goes around the corner, I saw an association, and liking the phrase 'camera obscura,' it seemed to fit.
Some tunes get titled after the event, and you write and structure them and you pick up on things -- 'Oh that would be nice for that song.' So that's a nice marriage when the idea comes and you can put two ideas together like that. That's an easy way of doing it. Other ideas stick for a long time. "Moon Song" stuck for ages. We used to call that one "The Angel" or "The Devil" or something (laughs). But I really didn't like those. Most titles can be overly simplistic, but they can become right for the song. You get titles like "Shifting Sands," which just kind of comes. I find it fun to kick around titles, but then eventually you have to come up with something. We had some last minute changes like "The Anchor." I wasn't sure what to call that one. And the same with "Simplification."
The way I titled the album was through my photography because I felt this album didn't really have a lead track. We could have called it "Small Acts Of Human Kindness," but I felt like wrapping the Skyline idea around it. "Secret Arrow" was a working title for the album for a while, but I really didn't see that in an imagery sense; I couldn't see a 'secret arrow.'
Do you find terms like 'new age' or 'smooth jazz' objectionable in describing Skyline?
I don't really mind what people call it. If those terms are a putdown, I don't really take them as such. And I don't think they are meant as that. New age went through a sort of a bad time when it wasn't very interesting (laughs). That's because everybody was sick of those records. Not necessary sick, but they'd dub them where nothing would happen for an hour. But they do have a whole usefulness. And mine certainly distills itself when the music becomes simpler. That goes back to medieval, if not pre-medieval, days when music was just one note. In the 6th century or maybe even earlier in the 4th century, nobody really thought about changing the note. A singular note was sufficient and everything was in monotone. It's fascinating how music has gotten more and more complicated. But at the same time now, you start to appreciate the simpleness as well. Something like the Gregorian chants or early local Spanish music where the voices are very beautiful and melodic, but it's not actually very complex, because they work at stages that, like Stravinsky, where they weren't there, they were hundreds and hundreds of years away from it. There was almost a fear of changing a note. Gradually, in around the 4th century, they broke away from the monotone where they progressed to medieval melodic music. The development is fascinating. We could talk for a whole hour about just this.
After listening to the ambient sound of Skyline, I have to wonder why you haven't, as far as I know, pursued any soundtrack work.
Most musicians would be lying if they said they wouldn't love to do a movie. I love cinematography and the idea that music can elevate film. They work in hand in hand. And I have a relationship with that. My brother, who lives in Australia, is a filmmaker there. So I have sort of an affinity with film. I've thought about it a lot. I'm not going to sit somewhere waiting for it to happen. I'm going to keep pursuing my music with the hope that one of my publishers will see it and maybe present something to me. I know there are stories where you can get commissions to do a movie. A lot of people may look at my solo albums and see something, but I'm also touring with Yes quite a bit, so how much time can I give? I once almost got involved with a television series, which shall remain nameless (laughs), but I found, in a way, that it wasn't going to work and I really didn't get on board with it. I didn't really like the commitment that I was expected to deliver something every week. I found it a bit inhibiting, so I didn't pursue it. But I wouldn't say it left a bad taste in my mouth. It just depends on the situation. I'd like to work with a brilliant director who wants the music to richly portray the theme. Obviously the guitar is a very powerful and expressive instrument, no less in the hands of someone like Jerry Douglas on the dobro. He's a fantastic player. Stunning really; his technique is masterful. Every time he plays, everything happens around him. The sort of influence that music has on film has to be endless. So, yeah, I'm 55 and I'd like to do a movie. I guess if one comes along, I'll be lucky to do it. I think I would have a lot of good experience to bring to it.
Well, I can certainly see where your music has a lot of cinematic qualities. When I listen to your solo stuff, I get the impression you're not really keen on going in any one direction. You're taking liberties, experimenting, and I assume getting a lot of personal fulfillment out of it. Would you say you approach each record with a different perspective and a different idea?