By BRUCE DENNILL
The first track on Robin Auld’s new album Back Of The Line, Caleb’s Calling, deals with a man who’s lost his mojo.
Is it too much to read into the lyrics something about the trials of being a veteran performer operating on the fringes of the music industry? Even Auld’s guests in the studio fitted that bill – the voice of Bright Blue’s Weeping, Tom Fox, is probably the least famous person to ever be associated with a hit that big, and he was only available for the sessions because he was in South Africa on a trip from New Zealand – back from exile, if you will.
Or perhaps he simply made up a story to go with a pleasantly alliterative title…
Auld smiles wryly.
“That song can pertain to any man who’s been around a long time and nailed his colours to the mast and then starts to doubt himself and the way he’s living,” he says.
“One of the influences there was the film The Grapes Of Wrath – the one with Gregory Peck. He comes back to the homestead and everyone’s left. He’s disconnected from his family, but even though the fire’s not burning for him, he’s still asked to say a few words at a graveside later.”
He grins again.
“The preacher’s name in that film is ‘Jim’, but ‘Caleb’ scans better.”
“Old Book, another song on the album, is in a similar vein. It’s allegorical, but essentially it’s about musicians slogging their guts out for 30 years. You have to stay positive. What else are you going to do?
“We were at the tail end of the baby boomer generation, having to fight for love, not trying to win people over with Joe Cocker records. There’s some confusion about religion in there too, thinking about Isis and all the stuff that’s happening in the world at the moment.
“And there was a bit from Mutiny On The Bounty; the line that talks about ‘brown-skinned girls’. Those guys were all for rum, sodomy and the lash, but then they see the girls on Pitcairn Island and it’s all peace and love.”
There are other ballads on the album as well, including Red Ground, which looks at the story of David Livingstone’s wife Mary.
“There’s a link with Livingstone for me,” says Auld.
“He was a huge figure when I was a kid in Zambia. He’d gone native in a way, and I always wondered about his wife. She was born in Kuruman in South Africa, but it was always assumed that Scotland – where her family came from – was home for her
“There was also the stand-off between Livingstone’s bearers, Chuma and Susi, and the British government when it came to what happened to his body. I wanted to represent the bearers in song – I don’t they get enough acknowledgement in the story.”
Is it easier to write such songs when there’s source material to work from?
“Ah, you can’t get too literal,” Auld says.
“I try to use obtuse lyrical references. Sometimes that makes it harder for listeners to tell what it’s about, but that’s okay.”
One of the other tunes on Back Of The Line is a cover of the Bee Gee’s Holiday, not an obvious choice, given their phenomenal back catalogue. Obscure covers, however, are often a wonderful way for listeners to discover new music. Why this particular option?
“I just loved the song,” shrugs Auld.
“I was going through my Bee Gees Tragic Pop period. The lyrics interested me because they’re quite dark. The song got into my head and wouldn’t leave. I like doing covers that exist in peoples’ subconscious without them even knowing the songs are there.”
What are some of the possible future options that Auld is interested in?
“There’s a song by Stealers Wheel called Late Again that I want to have a go at,” he muses.
Then he smiles, a twinkle in his eye.
“And Getting To Know You from The King And I – but a skiffle version!”
A pause.
“People tell me this next one won’t work, but I think it’ll be great: a slowed-down, bluesy version of Mammy Blue, done like Johnny Cash. The wrapping of songs is so superficial. Listeners want to be perceived in a certain way, so they struggle to get their heads around dramatically changing the feel of something sometimes.”
Enough about other artists, though. Auld has a strong, recognisable musical brand of his own. Only When You Smile, for instance, has chord progressions and a vocal melody that couldn’t be anyone else. That’s great in most ways…
“It’s very important – key in fact,” nods Auld.
“It hasn’t resulted in selling squillions of records yet, but I like artists who have a developed sound. It sorts out the sheep from the goats, You get people who just follow the sound of the moment, but will they – the fans or the artists – last?”
Does Auld ever find it necessary to touch up his performance persona if something sounds different to what he hopes people are hearing?
“That question has adverse polarity in the rock-blues scene,” says Auld, belying the surfer boy image and more or less answering the query immediately.
“With my last album, I made the furniture comfortable. With this one, I’ve moved it around a bit and it’s a little more challenging. I’m more of a singer-songwriter than a blues man.
“The blues-rock thing sits well in live gigs. It’s a comfortable furrow. But going back to songs like those on Back Of The Line is good too. It helps position me; to separate the listeners from the fellow travellers.
“The song is the cake. The rest is icing.”
Robin Auld: Back OThe Line is available via www.robinauld.co.za now.
