I don't want to sound like an old guru or crazy lunatic, you know" Does it mean the third world crisis is finished? No. Does it mean the earthquake thing has finished? No. "Does it mean the crisis in Russia is over? No. He moves on to the media, the way it builds up a story and drops it on a whim. Technology is like the 666 because it controls us." You know what I'm saying? We're not machines. They don't try to communicate because they can talk through the email. "I see my children and my friends' children, the humanity in general - they don't get together too much. He says this is a reflection of the way the world has become dehumanised. "The talent works in the service of the technology now, but in the 60s and 70s they used the technology in the service of the talent." He has a theory about why music has never been as good since then - technology. "And there was the Eagles and Neil Diamond." "I mean all the really talented people came out of the 60s and 70s." He points out that he and the Abba ruled the roost in 75. "We cannot deny that the 60s and 70s were the two magical decades of music," he says. What's more, he was on top of the world at the best possible time. It was not, he says, "easy to come and have success in this country when you were not from Britain." He lets out a peculiar, high pitched snort: "Eeehuhuheeeh." He started out as a choir boy, become a jazz musician playing piano and trumpet, segued to progressive rock, before becoming a middle-of-the-road balladeer. What was rarely mentioned was that Roussos was a musical renaissance man. Demis said, "I am unique, no one in the world is like me." We didn't argue. In 1976, Robin Denselow reviewed him in this paper as one of the worst two concerts of the year (the other was by Vangelis, who had starred in the progressive rock group Aphrodite's Child with Roussos.) His publicity people described his songs as a mix of "Byzantine psalms and muezzin prayer calls". The Sunday Times said he sounded like a kicked spaniel. The Sun called him The Big Squeak, a cross between Mickey Mouse and Moby Dick. "Forever and ever and ever and ever you'll be my one, my only one, lalalala" And, of course, the critics took the mickey. It was a sweeping belch of romantic kitsch. Forever and Ever is the record everyone remembers. By the end of 1976 he was a legend and a has-been. In autumn 1975, the big man in the maternity frock was a no one in Britain. In 1975 I had the award for the top male artist, the award for top single, the award for top album.
And my name was mentioned twice or three times in the Guinness Book of Records. And among them the number one album and the number one single. Back in '75 I had five albums in the top 10. "This country was one of my most important territories.
He returns to the room, and summarises his contribution to the history of English popular music. "Wait a minute," he says, and wanders off to the bedroom, picks up the phone and spends the next five minutes bawling at someone in French. He introduces me to his wife, Marie, a slight, pretty woman, and takes me to the hotel suite. With his brass-buttoned jacket and assertive belly, he would make a great tinpot dictator. When he shakes my hand, I try not to squeal. It's an eccentric haircut - nothing at the front, acres at the back. He muscles his way through the front door, silver ponytail flopping behind him. How could an interview with Demis Roussos not be serious, I say.Ī couple of days later we meet in London, where he has just played his first concert in 17 years, at the Royal Albert Hall.
He is in Greece, I'm in England, and he asks if this is going to be a serious interview. Kaftans are the past, he says, and the past is a faraway country. D emis Roussos doesn't want to talk about the kaftan.
0 kommentar(er)
