INTERVIEW
WITH PATRICK THE LAMA |
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This
is an interview I did with Sylvain Collette for a French music zine called
Dig It!, which may offer some insights into the world of The Lama. Proceed
at your own risk.
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Q: How did
Patrick Lundborg transform into Patrick The Lama ? What is your
background, especially with reference to music?
A: I got into the Beatles at an early stage, around age 12-13.
This was right around when John Lennon was shot in 1980, which led to a
lot of new Beatles books and articles in the newspapers. Of all the great
Beatles records, it was the psychedelic stuff that really knocked me over,
things like "Tomorrow never knows" and "It's all too
much". Many of my friends liked the Beatles too, but they thought the
acid-inspired tracks were just too weird! After the Beatles I got into Bob
Dylan, and after that it was the Byrds, the Doors, Velvet Underground,
Neil Young, and so on. Along with some friends we went through the great
60s music, layer after layer. Then in the mid-1980s, the neo-garage
explosion happened, and for us in Stockholm the timing was perfect. We had
been through the famous 1960s music, and needed something new. So
compilation LPs like Pebbles and Back From The Grave, along with fanzines
like Kicks and Ugly Things, opened up a whole world for us. It was really
exciting. We dressed up like 60s "garage" bands, with moptop
haircuts, paisley shirts, Chelsea boots, etc. That whole style was new
then -- it was created in the mid-1980s. There were cool bands here in
Stockholm, like the Stomachmouths and the Crimson Shadows, who were all
friends of mine. Each weekend we'd get drunk, watch our friends play, and
party all night. The skinheads wanted to beat us up, so you had to watch
your back! The garage scene lasted for about 3 years, after that it
started feeling "old", and there was also a silly dogmatic
attitude among some garage people (especially in the USA) that you could
only like certain types of music, and that you should hate Jimi Hendrix
and Black Sabbath, etc. Well, we liked Hendrix and Sabbath, and so we
broke off from the fundamentalist neo-garage scene. Around this time, some
of us started taking LSD instead of booze and amphetamines, and this
changed everything. Now we began to understood the old psychedelic records
for REAL. There was an acid scene going here circa 1987-1992, which led to
some cool neo-psych LPs like St Mikael and Word Of Life, with many former
garage guys involved. Another important thing is that we discovered the
American "private press" LP scene, thanks mostly to a New York
record dealer named Paul Major, who mailed out catalogs with rare records
that were like nothing we had seen before. Paul Major is perhaps the
single most important person for re-discovering the whole
"private" and "local" music scenes of the 1960s-1970s.
The Acid Archives book is basically an extension of what he did in the
late 1980s and early 1990s. So after our LSD trips and Paul's catalogs, my
mission was clear, and that's what is still happening with the Acid
Archives book and website. A: The basic philosophy behind the Acid Archives book is that you don't
have to be famous to create great rock music. The mainstream "rock
critics" of the 1970s-1980s failed to understand one very important
thing about rock music, which is that success and fame has very little to
do with quality. For each band that got lucky, like the Rolling Stones,
there were a dozen other bands who created music that was just as good and
talented, but who weren't in the right place and right time to be
discovered. Rock music is a terribly unfair business -- you can be an
outstanding talent, but if your timing is one year off, or if you live in
a small town far away, you're not going to be discovered. In the USA,
during the 1960s-1970s, many talented and dedicated artists wanted to get
their music released anyway, even if no record label was interested, and
so they put it out themselves as a limited "private" or
"vanity" release. In Europe these type of releases were common
during the 1970s punk era, but otherwise they're not common, and it's
mainly an American phenomena. There were many 1000s of outstanding
"private press" albums put out at the time in USA and Canada.
One great advantage of these records is that the artist didn't have to
compromise with the record label, because there was no record label! In
other words, the music came out exactly as the artists wanted it, which is
not what you get on a major label, mainstream release, where the record
label and manager and everyone else is trying to "improve" or
commercialize the music. So, the Acid Archives book is about this gigantic
underground of music by unknown people, some of whom were outstanding
talents, and who just were unlucky. "Fuzz Acid & Flowers" is
great for the famous and semi-famous 1960s bands, but it works in a
traditional way, from the top and downwards. Our Acid Archives book turns
the pyramid upside down, by starting at the bottom with all the unknowns
and their often amazing music. A: Yes and no. The great wave of re-discovery of private press LPs and
artists was in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Back then it was pretty
amazing, because each month there would be dozens of previously unknown
killer LPs discovered; albums that were truly great and mindblowing. Today
they're classics, like Fraction or the Bachs. At the same time the scene
was much smaller then, it was mainly a concern for a few hundred record
collectors in the US, Europe and Japan. Today there's 1000s of young
people who love these unusual old LPs, and are trying to find more. And
since the USA and Canada are such huge countries, there are still
1960s-1970s albums popping up today, that were previously unknown. I would
even say that there's more great albums being discovered today than it was
5-6 years ago, because the field is so hot right now. During 2006 alone, I
must have heard at least 15 old albums that I would call truly great, and
that were unknown to exist a few years ago. Right now, "downer
folk" and "outsider" albums from the 1970s are very hot --
this is personal and often scary albums by mentally unstable guys, a bit
like Syd Barrett's solo LPs, or Alexander Spence's "Oar". There
are 100s of such albums, and they have aged well, since they're so
personal and emotionally deep. A: I have mixed feelings about this. My usual comment regarding both
bootleg reissues and P2P is that you have to look at each individual case.
If someone puts up "Dark side of the moon" on P2P it doesn't
really hurt anyone. However, if you put up a recent CD reissue of an
obscure album made by a small independent label, you're stealing sales
directly from that label. That's the way it is. I don't really believe
that people buy more records after downloading whole albums. If someone
wants to help people decide what to buy, you put up either 1 entire song
from the album, or 60-second clips of 3-4 songs. That's what I do. There
is no reason to upload an entire album, unless you're out to
"share" the whole thing, which is basically a generous form of
theft. The small reissue labels are the ones that drive the whole
retrospective music underground, and knocking the legs out from under them
is obviously a bad idea. If they go bankrupt, there will be no
"cool" CD reissues to upload in a few years. The other thing to
consider is uploading rips of rare LPs that haven't yet been reissued.
Again, if you want people to decide if they're interested in them, take
60-second clips of a few songs. If the album has been going round on P2P,
no label may want to reissue it, and again everyone loses -- the band, the
reissue labels, and the music fans who don't get to hear the album in
re-mastered format, with unreleased material, liner notes etc. This
process is happening as we speak, and a lot of small labels are hurting
from it, as well as some artists who never get to see the royalties they
deserve. People need to use their judgment and think about what they're
doing. What's the point of hurting an artist and label whose music you
like? A: I started out with the British 60s bands, as most young music-lovers
do. I still love a lot of it, and the only reason I haven't worked more on
the British stuff is that once you've processed the top two layers, it
gets a bit difficult to find good, unknown music from the UK. The British
retro scene has always been very well taken care of -- the first
Merseybeat comp came as early as 1974, and it's still the best one. The
killer mod-psych stuff like Wimple Winch and Factory was already
well-known in the early 1980s, and was covered by terrific comps like
Chocolate Soup and Perfumed Garden. When "Rubble" came out, I
loved the first two volumes, which had lots of previously unknown 45s, but
after that the series seemed to get weaker and weaker. The thing I noticed
about "Rubble" was that on each volume, the best tracks were
always the repeats, the ones that had already been out on Choc Soup and
Perfumed Garden. The "new" stuff tended to be weaker, and some
of it I have to say was pretty awful, mediocre frilly-shirt pop. I took
this as a sign that the British 60s underground was already scraping the
bottom of the barrel around 1986-87, and in retrospect I think this turned
out to be correct, with a few exceptions. This was one of several reasons
why my main allegiance switched from the UK to the US at that point. It's
too bad there isn't more, but England is a smaller country than the US,
and most importantly the "local" and "private"
releases were much fewer. It was mostly a major label scene. It's possible
to get a grasp on the whole British 60s scene, from the Beatles down to
David John & the Mood, in maybe 3 years. For American 60s music, it
takes 15-20 years, or forever. However, I would still say that the best
British 60s records are as good as anything I've ever heard. As for other
countries, I think the Netherlands and Australia produced outstanding 60s
music that could be considered world-class scenes, which I know fairly
well. A: Yeah, the 13th Floor Elevators have a special place in my life. I
spent 5 years researching them, and have published a book on them,
"The Complete Reference File" from 2002. The Elevators were
unique in many ways; they combined intellectual elements and rock'n'roll
elements in a manner that only Dylan and Velvet Underground have matched.
The most important thing to realize about the Elevators is that to them it
wasn't a "game", or a "career" -- the fire-breathing
psychedelia heard on their records is how they lived their lives, every
day. They believed 100% in what they were doing; not in some goofy
flower-power way, but via an elaborate, intellectual paradigm which was
developed by their lyricist and jug player, Tommy Hall. I think Tommy Hall
is one of the most brilliant people to ever get involved with rock'n'roll
-- it's just pure luck that he chose rock music, rather than becoming a
high-brow poet, or philosophy graduate student. Putting him in the same
band as an outstanding vocalist and songwriter like Roky, and a terrific
lead guitarist like Stacy Sutherland, was one of the luckiest combinations
of the 1960s. I've always liked the Elevators, but it was after getting
into psychedelic drugs that I started examining them more closely, and the
more you found out about them, the more amazing the story became. At the
same time, most of what had been written over the years was goofy and
incorrect, mainly silly rock'n'roll "myths" about Roky. So I saw
the need of getting the Elevators story straight and remove some of the
lies and hype, and that was my motivation for writing that book. I have a
CD-Rom of the whole Elevators book available for sale via my website, by
the way. A: Although I was involved in two retro-music "scenes", the neo-garage wave of the mid-1980s and the modern psych wave on the Xotic Mind label of the early 1990s, I'm somewhat skeptical of "scenes". My theory is that truly great, contemporary music does NOT come out of a scene, but out of unknown artists and bands working by themselves, in a vacuum. Take a look at the first Bevis Frond album, "Miasma", which I'd rate as one of the very best modern psych LPs from anywhere. At the time, there was no Bevis or Woronzov "scene", it was just Nick Salomon putting together a private press release of things he'd been working on at home. Many years of living, writing and DIY stubborness went into it, and for that reason it sounds very real. Bevis would make some more pretty good LPs, but the whole "scene" that sprung up around the band and the label produced almost nothing else of value -- it was just the same old neo-psych with overblown guitar solos. I think this is the way it works -- the truly great albums being made right now do not come from "hip" bands that belong to a "scene", but to loner visionaries sitting in basements and thinking up things noone else has. Bobb Trimble's "Harvest Of Dreams" from 1982 is another example -- not only does it blow all modern psych to smithereens, but it's actually as good as the original late 60s psych stuff. And Bobb wasn't "neo" anything, he didn't look hip or know the right people, he was just an unknown small-town guy trying to capture what was in his mind. I've been through so many hyped up underground neo/retro scenes, and so much of it is just lame, the same old desire to become a rock star and not having to work a real job. I never liked the Fuzztones much, if you know what I mean. As for current psychedelia, an album that has caught some attention of late is the Valley Of Ashes, a 3-LP set from a rural commune US band who play basement drone psychedelia, and are far removed from any urban hipster rock clubs. So again, that's kind of typical -- the Valley Of Ashes hits a spot that the underground trend bands miss. However, I'm sure there are some pretty good neo/retro bands out there in garage, psych and folk-land. If anything is truly worthwhile, it will survive, and I will put it in the 7th Edition of the Acid Archives book in 2016 (ha-ha).
A: Yeah, I love Goa, or Psychedelic Trance. For me, that is the most
relevant form of modern psychedelia. Dance music really became influential
around 1988-89, and after that I believe a lot of the most talented young
people have moved into techno, ambient, hip-hop, drum & bass etc,
rather than to "rock" music. What happened with Goa is that the
circle was finally closed; the kids who started out with ecstasy and acid
house went on to LSD, and began making dance music that was geared towards
acid trips, more than Ecstasy trips. So it was acidheads making music for
acid trips, which is precisely what you had in the late 1960s. I recognize
a lot of the moods and ideas in PsyTrance from original 60s psychedelia --
it's upbeat and positive, it's mysterious, it's very drug liberal, it's
creative, it aims for beauty and bliss. The original 1980s Detroit techno
was nihilistic, minimalist and bleak, and the mid-1990s Goa Trance was
almost the perfect opposite of that. Acid house was OK, but like old
school disco it's music that works much better on a club dance-floor. At
home it may sound monotonous and simplistic. Goa Trance on the other hand
sounds very good at home, the louder, the better. I have something like 40
original comps of Goa Psytrance from 1994-97, and the average quality of
the music is very high. I sort of stopped following neo-garage in the late
1980s, but I'm very glad to see that the scene is still happening, and
obviously big bands like the White Stripes wouldn't have existed without
the first garage retro wave. Neo-garage is now a permanent genre within
rock music, which I think is great. I must admit I'm not well informed of
the contemporary folk scene. I know the names, but I haven't heard much of
it yet. It seems interesting, and the pagan element gives an intellectual
aspect that is respectworthy.
END
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