Martin Briley
When it came to my attention that Cherry Red Records was putting out an album by Martin Briley this winter, my immediate reaction was “What? He’s still around??” A little (and by that I mean teensy) amount of search work turned up Mr. Briley’s Web site, his production service company, his extensive discography, and, best of all, an e-mail address!
At that point I had already decided to reach way, way back to 1981 for an installment of The MOP. And it’s an installment that goes slightly askew of the format, since it’s not new music that an “old” person might have missed and liked, but, rather, an unsung classic that deserves to be brushed off and given a second look..
I e-mailed Mr. Briley and he was gracious enough to take the time to answer some questions.
I’m not sure how to describe the moment. I would love to say “professionally” but who am I kidding? I was being given an opportunity to ask the writer of one of my favorite albums, long obscure, questions that had been kicking around in my head for over 25 years.
SB: “Fear of the Unknown” was your first sojourn into solo work. It remains, to me, one of the best examples of late ‘70s power pop. After years as a respected songwriter and session musician first with Mandrake Paddle Steamer and then at AIR, could you talk a little about how “Fear of the Unknown” came to be? Were the songs already part of your catalog or did you start fresh?
MB: I’d always been quite happy being a musician and allowing myself to just fall into whatever came up next, being famous or the center of attention never really interested me that much. Seventy-five percent of the songs — music with lyrics — I’d written up to this point were collaborations with Brian Engel, with whom I’d formed Mandrake Paddle Steamer. Often I’d have ideas for the subject of songs, titles and concepts etc., sometimes even the lyrics, but the lyrics at that point always came SO much slower than the music that I came to rely heavily on Brian’s verbal diarrhea, and I mean that in a nice way.
After moving to New York in 1977, without having Brian around, I found myself accumulating titles and ideas for songs without actually being able to muster up the courage to write the songs! At one point I realized I had over 15 great titles/concepts but not much beyond that. I realized that this made me look and feel like a wanna-be, so gradually I began forcing myself to finish lyrics by myself, and I was relieved to see that they weren’t that bad. Then I went out on the road as a bass player with Ellen Foley and then Ian Hunter/Mick Ronson for a couple of years, during that time I found it almost impossible to focus on writing anything while I was traveling so much.
When I could see that period of touring and recording coming to an end I knew I had to do something to survive, and fast. During that two years of touring all I’d managed to record was a couple of demos, so I took them into Chrysalis Publishing in the hopes of getting a publishing deal. They described the songs as ‘five-minute-long suicidal dirges’ and could I perhaps write something shorter and happier? So I wrote what they wanted, and they got it cut by an artist almost immediately. Then they said, ‘Do that again’, which I did. And they got that cut too. Then they offered my some crappy publishing deal, which I jumped at. Then they said, ‘And you know with all this other miserable stuff, you could
probably get a deal as a recording artist’. So they found me a manager, we shopped my tapes around and that’s how ‘Fear of the Unknown’ was born.
About 90% of those 15 titles/concepts materialized into actual songs that eventually ended up being on the record, including the two five-minute-long suicidal dirges (“Heart of Life” and “One Step Behind” ). With all the touring I’d been writing very little, so once I knew I was making a solo album the flood gates opened and I must have poured about three album’s worth of ideas into “Fear of the Unknown.” Partly due to the album being completely ignored and unpromoted by Mercury/Polygram, I was adored by the critics. Ironically it was the lyrics more than the music that attracted so much attention, one guy even said I was the “new Dylan!” Like there was something wrong with the old one? I think it was my experience with Brian being such a great lyricist that made me set such a high standard for myself.
SB: The album had an interesting marketing ploy. I recall a medley that was issued to radio stations, which I heard late night on a college station in New Jersey. The DJ, when I spoke to him later, said that this was the only piece of music he had from you, he didn’t even know there was an album. Whose idea was this?
At the same time Trouser Press magazine sent the album to a select handful of readers and asked them to chime in with their review — this is how I first came to hear of it. Was this your idea or Mercury’s? I distinctly recall one reader thought the album was too smart, that your vocabulary was too clever and another compared you to Phil Collins in vocal quality. How did you react to this method of review?
MB: I don’t specifically remember that method of review, I guess some bright spark at the record company thought it might be an idea to get the record buyer involved. A taste of things to come? And yes, I remember the constant vocal comparisons with both Phil Collins and Peter Gabriel. In interviews I would often attribute that vocal similarity to the same low standard of British dentistry that we possibly all shared! It never bothered me that much, if I’d been compared to crappy singers THAT would have been a drag.
I had nothing to do with the medley idea, it was basically some guy at the record company trying to make a name for himself, I think.
SB: Speaking about the lyrical content, “Fear of the Unknown” came out at a time when popular music was almost too smart for it’s own good. Elvis Costello, Difford and Tilbrook, Joe Jackson, your contemporaries in the “power pop” field, never spoke down to their audiences and you didn’t either. Were you conscious of how — for lack of a better word — intelligent your lyrics were? Certainly that era was coming to an end as MTV and glam rock were changing the tone of music from smartly written to “easy on the eyes.”
MB: I can see how a lot of people might have found the lyrics somewhat collegiate-sounding, some of them even seem that way to me now. I grew up listening to Dylan and the Beatles. From the Beatles I learned that people need a soundtrack to their lives, a song for every occasion. It always seemed to me that they had a song about everything that was happening to me. From my point of view growing up in London, I didn’t have a clue what Bob Dylan was going on about, I understood very few of his references, but his imagery, wordplay, and vagueness was intriguing. Also, for me it’s always been easier to write a song that’s ABOUT something, writing songs about nothing is HARD. I know, I write a
lot of pop. So were the lyrics smart? I don’t think so. I get plenty of ordinary people writing to me saying how much my lyrics helped them through something-or-other. It’s what you read into them.
SB: MTV, it would turn out, helped you finally crack the top 20 with “Salt in my Tears”. After years of being a writer behind the scenes what were your thoughts about stepping out to the forefront not just as a performer but as an actor making a video?
MB: I hated it. I never wanted to be famous, but if you want to spend your life creating music and making a living out of it, it’s sometimes unavoidable. When the single was moving up the charts I was internally screaming ‘STOP!!’ I needed time to get used to it. Also, I can’t act. I’d always suspected it, and I was right! From my ‘performance’ in the ‘Salt In My Tears’ video, a lot of people got the impression I was a misogynist! I actually had food poisoning, which accounted for my apparent nonchalance.
SB: There is a symmetry to Fear of the Unknown. The first tracks on either side feel very much like a beginning. The second have a much more easy groove. “Milkshake” and “More of the Same” are playful. Each side ends with a forbidding conclusion. Was this conscious or just a happenstance?
MB: An accident. I never cared much about the sequencing of the tracks on my albums, and now with iTunes the issue is almost redundant. One thing I did understand was that I couldn’t start side one or two with those kind of “forbidding” songs.
SB: Do you approach writing for others differently than you do for yourself? Is it a case of writing to a performer’s strengths, i.e. Celine Dion or NSync, or is it a matter of the songs just being good enough to be recorded by anyone?
MB: No, it’s the former. When writing a song for someone else it can get quite scientific.
SB: Is “Salt in my Tears” about anyone in particular? It is one of the smartest angry songs I have ever heard.
MB: Not really, once again I had/have this unconscious habit of being lyrically unspecific. It’s a “fuck you” song for the common man. To this day I still get the funniest letters.
SB:. There is a long gap between “Dangerous Moments” and “It Comes in Waves,” just about 20 years. Why so long between solo work?
MB: I was dropped by Polygram because “Dangerous Moments” was a half million dollar disaster. At that time, to me, it seemed almost undignified to try again. I’d always managed to merge writing for other artists into my solo career, and I was SO sick of the Polygram situation, so I was quite looking forward to being just a songwriter.
A few years ago, as I became more aware of my audience that never went away because of the Internet, I was offered a record deal by MTM in Germany, that’s how “It Comes In Waves” happened. I’ve been writing for others almost constantly, so ’solo’ efforts rarely happened. My songwriting for others is collaborations 90% of the time .
SB: You have dabbled in so many different musical genres. “Between the Sea and the Sky” is a cornucopia of various styles, prog-rock, Kander and Ebb, glam, pop. Your later work is decidedly rock and power pop, and you’ve written for some of the biggest Top 40 acts in the modern era. What do you think of the current state of popular music? is there anyone you are listening to that gets you excited?
MB: The more I have to create, the less time I have to listen, but no one special stands out. I think the current state of music is pretty dire, and I feel it is a direct result of how much people like to think it’s all free now.
SB:. When my band, Throttle Back Sparky was working on our album, I was trying to get across a certain feel to them. The only simile I could come up with was “Fear of the Unknown.” I prefaced my comparison by stating that there was no way they would know what I was talking about but I forged ahead anyway. My producer, Robbie Rist, jumped up, ran out to his van and came in with a CD burn of the album. It’s part of his permanent collection. Ripped from his own vinyl. Over the years I would find myself talking about music with various and sundry music lovers and I would bring up “Fear of the Unknown” and on two other occasions someone I was talking to would jump up in their seat and excitedly exclaim, “I LOVE that album!”. To what do you attribute the depth of the penetration of “Fear?” Did you know that it is considered a lost classic?
MB: No, I didn’t know it was lost classic, otherwise I assume I’d get a lot more letters to that effect. But I’m gratified to know the album left such a positive impression on you and your producer. It wasn’t promoted well, so very few people got to hear it. It’s sad, but at least it was released, and not just shelved. I’ve had my share of those. For those that truly connect with the album, I assume they enjoy the density and the sheer abundance of ideas.
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