Magazine: Finger (Switzerland) / Wally Badarou Interview

I love the postman. Not literally, just when he delivers something you are not expecting. I was lucky enough to just get sent some back issues of the rather nice Finger magazine out of Zurich, Switzerland.

There is a fair chance you haven’t seen it but basically it’s the dream magazine for a lot of us. It’s a magazine of lists, that has additional slightly longer interviews. Not massive longer, just slightly. I’ve always loved charts as they are such an honest keeper of history. You can’t mess about with charts. If you chart a bad record it stays in there and in ten years time folk can still see it. The honesty level is great. You can’t re-write a chart.

Also, finding out what music people you like and love are into is always one of the best ways to find out about new stuff. When you have someone with great taste recommending you their favourite records you instantly want to get on YouTube (weird how that has become the jukebox of choice – maybe cause you know it’ll probably be there) and check them out. So fairplay to Adrian and the chaps and chapesses at Finger for creating a magazine full of information that also has fine design.

They interview lots of people. And a good broad genre-crossing range across those people. It must take some putting together. For instance in the last issue (amongst others) they had Peter Kruder, Captain Sensible, Bjorn Torske, Beyond The Wizard’s Sleeve, Saint Etienne, Moonboots, Matthew Herbert, Frank Black, Kevin Saunderson, David Rodigan, Midlake, ESG, Ray Mang and Wally Badarou. Here’s an idea of the kind of interviews they do. This one with Wally Badarou…

First record you remember?

My first memories were through the radio, not the turntable. Edith Piaf’s «La Foule», Marcel Amont’s «Bleu Blanc Blond», Guy Béart’s «L’eau Vive». First records I remember seeing and hearing, but not actually «listening to» were my father’s: mainly film soundtracks like «Orpheo Negro», George Cukor’s «Let’s Make Love», and lots of classical music.

A song that reminds you of school?
A song from pre-Zaïre Congo, which I never knew the title of.

A record you fell in love to?
I fell in love with music and songs, not records. From Beethoven’s «Violin Concerto in D Major», to James Brown’s «Give It Up Or Turn It A Loose», from Simon & Garfunkel’s «Bridge Over Troubled Water» to Jimi Hendrix’ «All Along The Watchtower». I fell in love with music, way before I knew I would make a living out of it.

Your ultimate heartbreak song?
Stevie Wonder – You And I. Very lo-res video of his solo performance can be found on YouTube. Pure genius.

A record that evokes the greatest summer of your life?
Mayaula Mayoni – Cherie Bondowe. Greatest summers were in the tropics.

First record you bought?
James Brown – Escape-ism on 7“. Brown overdubbed his vocals against slow-down backing tracks, yielding the funkiest slow groove ever. I wish I still had a copy.

Your boozed-up anthem?
Either Count Basie’s «The Kid From Red Bank», Lalo Shiffrin’s «Theme From Mannix», or Weather Report’s «Birdland». Pure energy from absolute masters in orchestration.

A song you use as a ring tone?
I keep my mobile silent at all times, as a courtesy to my neighbours and yet, never miss an important call.

A song you wish you wrote yourself?
Each and every Stevie Wonder ballad, period.

A song guaranteed to make you feel depressed?
Any song of the past, good or bad, when it happens to remind me of a close friend no longer with us.

A song that reminds your friends of you?
How could I know? Ask them.

A record that will make everybody dance?
A song that did make absolutely everybody dance, back in the 60’s in Africa: James Brown’s «There Was A Time» followed by «I Feel All Right», recorded live at the Apollo.

Best concert you ever attended?
Miriam Makeba at the Olympia, Paris, early 70’s.

A record you were looking for the longest?
Talking about Makeba, her first album ever (from 1960 on RCA), which I bought a copy on eBay for 70 euro.

Your Sunday morning song?
Thank god, Sunday is like any other day for us musicians. No darker, no brighter, just regular.

Best Beatles song?
«Michelle»

The perfect anthem for London?
Talking about the Beatles, «All You Need Is Love».

The song to be played at your funeral?
I’ll let it up to my survivors. Music won’t be my concern anymore. They’ll be the ones to worry about. I don’t feel like imposing anything to them.

::

That give’s you an idea of what it’s all about. Fascinating in a short incisive way. I think you’ll probably be able to tell we are magazine fans here at Test Pressing and this format works totally. You can subscribe (pretty cheaply if you ask me) here with Finger being released bi-annually in limited runs of 6,000. Go check.

Finger magazine website.
Finger magazine on twitter.

[Apiento]

Wally Badarou On The Gregory Isaacs ‘Night Nurse’ Sessions…

We got in touch with Wally Badarou to find out how his contribution to the classic Gregory Isaacs ‘Night Nurse’ album came about. Here’s what he said.

What do you remember about the Night Nurse sessions?

Everything, because my involvement was brief and very simple: February 22nd 1982, I flew from Paris to Nassau, no specific project in mind. The very night I arrived, I left my suitcases still packed in my flat and went down the studio just to say hello before crashing back in my bed, so jetlagged I was. As I sneaked into Studio A, there was Godwin Loggie, whom I’ve known from the days of Countryman soundtrack recording (he had done Toots “Bam Bam” magnificent version for it), now sitting at the desk mixing some great music. “Hey Wally ! Glad you came by ! Here is the Prophet ready for you !”. The synthesizer was up and ready indeed, God knows who for, prior to my showing up. I had never heard of Gregory Isaacs before, and what came out of the speakers was irresistible already. So despite my near 20 hour trip exhaustion, I agreed to have a go at a couple songs. Less than a couple of hours later, I had overdubbed on the whole of the album, somehow reinvigorated by the “less than two takes or leave it” performance, hypercritical of what I did (as usual), and never realizing this unplanned last minute session would land me to be part of one of reggae’s indisputable classics.

That album is one of the very few I contributed to, that I can listen to from start to finish, skipping no song in the process, with absolutely no favourite in mind: from “Night Nurse” to “Sad To Know That You’re Leaving”, each of the songs bears special momentum, groove, grace and spirituality within.

I met Gregory only once, a few months later, still at Compass Point Studios. We just ran into each other one day, with a “Hi Prophet!” and a “Hi Gregory!” informal exchange, mutually respectful, yet quite brief since, as far as I can recall, each of us was busy doing something. So I never got to know the man really, nor any of the brilliant musicians who performed on that album: I did not attend the main sessions. My contribution was a during-mixing totally unplanned injection, with just Godwin, some assistant and myself in the studio.

[Apiento]

The Prophet In Paris – Wally Badarou & Friends Live

All your lucky Parisians are in for a good one. On March 19th Wally Badarou is getting a bit of an all star crew together for a concert at La Machine, 90 Bld de Clichy, Paris 18, France. Phil Gould, Mike Lindup, Manu Dibango, Alain Chamfort, Berenice (“M” Robin Scott’s daughter), Jim Palmer (of Robert Palmer), Paulo Goude (of Grace Jones & Jean-Paul Goude), Barry Reynolds (Compass Point All Stars), Mark King and many other guests will be appearing.

Tickets are €15 and you can reserve tickets here (recommended) by sending your last name, first name and number of tickets required. Put ‘WB’ as the subject. Should be a good one.

[Apiento]

Just Because 008

Thanks to Nick Dart.
[Apiento]

Wally Badarou: The Daiquiri Diaries

After ‘Fisherman’, Wally Badarou returns with ‘The Daiquiri Diaries’, a new release from ‘The Unnamed Trilogy’. As Wally describes it, ‘A fresh start, with a yellow glimpse of humour, banana or strawberry, your choice’.

You can hear and download the track here.
[Apiento

Wally Badarou’s Back!!! ‘Fisherman’ Out Now!

If you’ve been following Test Pressing for a while then you would know we are massive fans of Wally Badarou – from his keyboards on many classic Compass Point recordings (from Grace Jones to Joe Cocker) through to his wonderful solo albums on Island Records. So, it’s been a while, but Badarou has returned from a brief hiatus (well a long one), with a new release ‘Fisherman’.

In Wally’s words, “Here is ‘Fisherman’, a 15 minute imaginary conversation between an african fisherman and the surrounding elements. What started as a tutorial test on a newly acquired synth, landed in this Fela Kuti meets Booker-T meets Herbie Hancock type of marathon; this clearly is ‘vintage’, entirely auto-produced as usual, with my trusty analog synths and drum-machines of the times past.”

The releases will be split into different parts for initial release before being collated into a ‘physical collector sets’. His reasons for doing this are explained thus, “I want each piece to be given proper attention. With conventional album releases, only 2 or 3 so-called ‘singles’ get focused on, most of the time; I have always felt for those many pieces that the industry deemed simple ‘album tracks’: there is never such thing for a genuine artist. By releasing the pieces in 3 distinct genres alternately, I hope I can depict best 3 worlds that still shape my life in music: classical, tropical and urban. The resulting trilogy – that “The Dachstein Angels”, “Hi-Life” and “Chief Inspector” respectively pioneered for example – will not be immune from cross-influences. Yet, I am longing to offer 3 views on a common subject, 3 different sets of experiences, fully identifiable in their style and their fabric.”

Fisherman is available here on digital release.

[Apiento]

Video: Wally Badarou – Novela Das Nove

[Apiento]

Island Records Documentary & Paul Williams Island Records Mix

If you missed the Island Records documentary on BBC4 it’s well worth taking a look. From the early recordings of jazz artists, Blackwell’s move to London to import ska for the Jamaican communities and eventually the mods, the birth of the pink label and the folk years and his work with Grace Jones and the B-52’s on to modern Island – it’s all pretty well covered. Interviews include Blackwell, Sly and Robbie, Joe Boyd and many of the early employees of Island. There is also some great footage of London in the 60s. It’s interesting seeing how the label worked giving the artists creative space in their own Island studios combined with Blackwell’s eye for the visual aspect of modern music. Not sure how long it’s live for but if you missed it it’s here. As before with the Rough Trade documentary the BBC have also compiled an hour of Island artists playing over the years – check that here.

As a perfect accompaniment here is a mix by Paul Williams (Balearik Soul) of his favourite Island Records/Nassau moments taking in the Thompson Twins, NYC Peech Boys, Wally Badarou, Grace Jones, Roxy Music and Black Uhuru along the way. It’s world music as it should be.

Tracklisting follows.

Island Records Mix By Paul Williams
Download
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[Apiento]

An Interview With Wally Badarou: Part Two

Enjoy the second part of our Wally Badarou interview as we discuss first sessions, ‘Echoes’, Island Records and Badarou’s favourite Compass Point moments. Take a look at Badarou’s official website for more great photos and insight.

What was the first record you played on at Compass Point and what do you remember of the session?

Grace Jones ‘Warm Leatherette’, officially; with ‘Nightclubbing’ starters in reality. It all started unpretentiously, with the title song and a couple other tracks. Only when we cut ‘Private Life’, we realised something serious was in the making. Sly, Robbie, Sticky and Mickey’s ominous groove, Barry’s rock-solid pulse and hard-edged solo, Grace’s eerie combination of talked verses and sung choruses, it all triggered the melodic hook and the spacious swells I came up with. This was a very special night for all of us, as we suddenly realise each one of us key role in the sonic outcome; genuine mutual respect grew between ourselves ever since.

That experience paved the way to the more substantial ‘Nightclubbing’ album, making us more confident in what was setting us apart. Joe Cocker, Gwen Guthrie and others benefited from that momentum.

The Compass Point All Stars made me specialise in melodic hooks and counterpoints. Or perhaps vice-versa: it made more obvious what I had within. I’ve always been a melody man. My sounds always came from that quest. Given the right surrounding and groove, hooks like the hi-pitched intro to Grace’s “I’ve seen that face before” would come fast and easy to me.

It wasn’t just you guys working at Compass Point. Who else did you bump into? What accidental benefit did people like Iron Maiden or other non-funky Nassau people bring?

Befriended Paul and Linda McCartney, The Thompson Twins, ex-Kraftwerk member Emil Schult. Also met Ringo Starr, AC/DC, Iron Maiden, Carly Simon, and quite a few movie people too, like Elia Kazan, 007 and ‘Thunderball’ author/producer Kevin McClory, ‘Spiderwoman’ Sonia Braga, Dennis Hopper.

The list goes on, of people who felt like either enjoying a bit of that unconventional chemistry, or simply vacationing in Blackwell’s land. Looking back, they made Compass Point the more legendary.

Was there anything specific about the technology you were using, or anything else you created or accidentally invented at this point?

I had my first go at an S.C.I. Prophet V during the first sessions. It was the dream machine I could hear on seminal albums by Hancock, Weather Report and the likes, so I asked for a rented one. Waiting for the rest of the team to arrive, I had more than sufficient time to study it, so I could be fast at getting just the sound I needed by the time Sly & Robbie were “ready to burn” later on. I was so fast and productive with that single machine, I eventually got nicknamed ‘Prophet’.

Funny enough, I never owned one: when I finally could afford it, I directly went for the Synclavier, a multi-fold groundbreaking monster at the time. That latter system made me one of the first tapeless producers ever. But again, as technically impressive as my fully computerized and speech-controllable ‘Studio-W’ room might have looked, I was not too concerned by technical achievements. Here I was with the best sampling machine in decades, and yet I always kept a very minimal sample library. What mattered to me was philosophy behind the architecture, the music it allowed me to create, yielding in my most favorite solo work, ‘Words of a Mountain’.

As technically sophisticated as we did sound sometimes, the Compass Point All Stars as such only had a very few pieces of gear to deal with otherwise, apart from Sly’s Simmons and Oberheim DMX drum-machine snippets. No extensive programming time allowed anyway: we’ve always focused on the performance, to keep the momentum going. The chemistry was augmented with Alex Sadkin, Steven Stanley or Andy Lyden’s interactions; the performance made the sound.

How did you feel about the way the Compass Point All Stars were used/favoured by disco, specifically Larry Levan and FK?

Or Bill Laswell. All good friends of mine. Yet, as clever and remarkable as remixes might have sounded from the day they were invented, they never matter to me much, as long as people could get the originals. Call it ego or self-respect, I believe any genuine musician still wants one’s performance released un-manipulated, and views the remix phenomenon as a flattering tribute to one’s original idea.

It may feel disturbing when the remix proves way more successful than the original, specially when the original was meant to compete in remix territory, i.e. the disco. This was hardly our case. But if ever existing, frustrations could only be short-lived: at the end of the day, the remix is still a tribute to the original idea, and the composer remains the winner on both accounts anyway.

When you were making ‘Echoes’, do you remember what other music you were listening to at the time?

Well I was listening to everything everybody was listening at that time but, quite honestly, I never wanted ‘Echoes’ to be inspired by any of the ongoing chart of the time. I really wanted it to be apart, driven by past memories rather. ‘Echoes’ were musical tales, based of forceful moments in my childhood, my teen days, my life in Africa, in Europe, everywhere and everything I had been. Hence the apparent ecclecticism throughout the album.

Are there other outtakes from ‘Echoes’? It would be amazing to hear alternative or extended versions of the tracks.

Not that many outakes, reason being that I only had 24 tracks and limited studio time to deal with. So, apart from ‘Endless Race’, everything had been carefully demoed beforehand. To tell you the truth, demos are even more interesting than outtakes, as one can hear were it all came from, stage by stage, discarded directions et all. One must remember: midi sequencers did not exist yet, total recall and automation were a rarity. Apart from the drum-machine, everything had to be manually played from scratch, for good. Hard decisions were to be made before entering the studio, unless you were a million-seller before.

Why such big gaps between your artist albums? ‘Echoes’ was released in 1983, with ‘Words Of A Mountain’ following in 1989.

Several reasons: I had a busy life sessioning all over the world, co-writing and producing Level 42 in the UK, film-scoring in L.A., finishing ‘Studio-W’ in Nassau, all the while re-immersing myself in symphonic works, for the new direction Chris Blackwell and I decided my next record should aim at was classical. Moreover, with what still looked like a symbolic succes for ‘Echoes’ back in those years, I lacked the self-confidence and thrive that would have urged me to deliver sooner. That been said, I am still not quick at following those two with a new one …

Going a little more general now – what made Island Records so special as a label?

To the risk of repeating myself, just one and only one person. It was all down to Chris’ visions and intuitions, and the Compass Point All Stars were just one in many. As an artist, you could only respect the way he could bet on something he really likes, regardless of the moods and the losses. He could make mistakes, huge ones sometimes. But you wanted to be part of it, because it never was business as usual. Think of it: who else could have had Bob Marley and U2, or Steve Winwood and Salif Keita under the same logo without looking like just another closed-department company? There was style and dedication behind everything he approached.

I know you are modest man when it comes to pin pointing certain eras but when you look back to that time of Compass Point what are you most proud of?

I honestly feel more privileged and honoured than proud. As I said, there I went, unaware of what I was to deal with. And before I could realise it, I had been part of quite a few pages. I never was striving for it, things just happened. Friends of mine keep on telling me it had to do with talents I unknowingly had too. Perhaps, but there we are: I was not aware of them, at least not to the extent they are nowadays.

We honestly thought that more important things were being achieved elsewhere, in the US, in the UK. This is no modesty, it is a fact. Like everybody, we had heroes; James Brown, The Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Sly & Family Stone, Herbie Hancock, Weather Report. The air was filled with ubiquitous smash hits by the Michael Jackson, Eurythmics, Lionel Ritchie, Kool & The Gang, etc, who seemed to leave little room for our ‘uniqueness’ back then.

As time goes by, it’s only now that all the Grace Jones legacy, augmented by Tom Tom Club’s ‘Genius of Love’, and Gregory Isaacs’ ‘Night Nurse’, and Black Uhuru ‘Chill Out’, Gwen Guthrie, Ian Dury, etc, sort of build a long line of albums with legendary impact, that people started to inter-connect them with the Compass Point All Stars. But looking back, we did stick to the style that was ours, not because we were brave at resisting the mainstream, but because it was the only thing we knew how to do best collectively.

How is that history being taken forward?

That, only you-know-who knows. I can’t make plans regarding the Compass Point All Stars.

What are you doing over the coming year? About time for a new album perhaps? The world would be a better place Wally….

Don’t you worry. I am working on that.

What are you aware of that has been influenced by you?

Difficult to say, despite all the feeds an comments I get on my site, myspace and facebook walls. It really depends on what part of what I did we are talking about. For instance, Andy Lyden recently told me that, with Massive Attack rendering of ‘Mambo’ through ‘Daydreaming’, I had been (both him and I had been) like pioneering that trip-hop sound. Perhaps. But then, were we looking at achieving what I understand trip-hop has been trying to achieve ? Were we looking in the same direction? Does it matter if we weren’t? The same goes to how ‘Hi-Life’ seemingly influenced both zouk music of the french Antilles and African music at the same time. Influence is a whole phenomenon yet to be rationally investigated.

If you were to suggest someone listen – really listen – to one thing you did at Compass Point, what would it be and why?

As the Compass Point All Stars, ‘Private Life’. It is, like Stevie Wonder’s ‘Superstition’ or Weather Report’s ‘Birdland’, without pretending to sum a whole career through just one song, yet the kind of piece that tells best what the artist really stood for, what set him/her fully apart, what makes his/her planet such a vibrant yet distinct world on its own. ‘Private Life’ had all the grits and the meat, the colors and the fragrance, the rawness and the sophistication the Compass Point All Stars were capable of, right from the early days.

Finally, as I get older and move through music and genres I find myself being drawn to the music of classical composers such as Debussy and the like. If you had to give three pieces or albums of classical modern music to start me off what would they be?

I would start listening to:
Holst ‘The Planets’
Debussy ‘Images’
Stravinsky ‘Petrushka’

Then I’d go on listening to:
Ravel ‘Daphnis & Chloe’ / ‘Tombeau de Couperin’
Fauré ‘Dolly suite’ / ‘Pavane’
Stravinsky ‘Firebird’ and ‘Rite of Spring’

To further get a sense of how they all keep on influencing major film composers today, I would also give a listen to Benjamin Britten’s work. Then I would move to more contemporary composers like Bela Bartok, Gyorgy Ligeti and Arvo Part.

That’s it. Cheers Wally.

You are welcome.

[Apiento]

An Interview With Wally Badarou: Part One

Let’s go back. Back to a time when studios had no midi systems, where were no sequencers and keyboards were played, not used to create three second loops. Digital technology was just about to appear, and snare drums would take ten years to recover. Music was built around skills: the capturing of a performance. Three takes and ‘next’. It would take a room, a vibe, a locked-down rhythm section, a keyboard player and guitarist with room to move, an engineer ready and a switched-on producer, full of great ideas. Add to this the vocal performance of an artist at the peak, or beginning, of their career and you have the recipe for something special. If it takes place on a tropical island, all the better.

For a certain period of time (and it was a long period) a studio in Compass Point in Nassau had that something special. The house band consisted of Sly & Robbie on drums and bass, Mikey Chung and Barry Reynolds on guitar, Sticky on the percussion and Wally Badarou on keys, rounded off with Steven Stanley, Alex Sadkin and the boss, Chris Blackwell, behind the desk. The Compass Point All Stars, as they were named, made incredible records. Grace Jones, Tom Tom Club, Gwen Guthrie, Lizzie Mercier Descloux, Robert Palmer and many others benefited from the coming together of these people and as time leaves more and more room to appreciate this music, you realise just how special it is.

Wally Badarou was key to this band, and we were lucky enough to track him down. As it’s the fiftieth anniversary of Island Records this year we decided to focus on the Compass Point era and those sessions in Nassau. Badarou’s soundtracks are well loved, his solo albums seminal, and it’s his playing with the Compass Point All Stars that is the topping on perhaps the ultimate melting pot in western music. The Muscle Shoals hit it from a soul angle, but the Compass Point All Stars got you from all sides. Wally took a large amount of time out to answer our questions and open the door on those early Grace Jones sessions. So back we go…

So Wally, how did you initially end up working at Compass Point?

Record producer & friend Daniel Vangarde (father of Thomas Bangalter, Daft Punk) knew Chris Blackwell as Island Records used to distribute The Gibson Brothers, one of Vangarde’s productions. Chris was looking for a keyboard player to join to the recording team he was putting together for a Grace Jones album. Daniel recommended me to Chris. We had a very brief phone conversation regarding schedule and fees. I landed in Nassau in early 1980, for what was to be just an album session initially, and ended up being a near-12 year experience.

What were your thoughts when Chris Blackwell first brought up the idea of the Compass Point All Stars?

All he was concerned about initially was to cast the right musicians for that specific Grace Jones album. Only when he heard the sound that was generated, he understood what he had, and thought of something that could last much longer than the initial project. We almost did two albums for Grace in the first period, ‘Warm Leatherette’ and ‘Nightclubbing’, the latter to be completed and released afterwards. The team was so productive that we also did several other single projects within the same period, like ‘Some Guys Have All The Luck’ by Junior Tucker. As we kept on coming back to Nassau to start and/or complete these and other projects, Chris eventually nicknamed us ‘The Compass Point All Stars’.

He immediately thought of it as a ‘band’. I was quick to observe that a real ‘band’ needed to stem out of a co-opting process, shaped around a clear leader. As it turned out, he was the Compass Point All Stars sole leader; which inevitably implied, in the long run, that things would not survive his complicated business life.

What were your first impressions of Sly and Robbie? What did they bring? And what worked about the combination of you and them?

I had heard of them initially, but hardly knew any of their work really before I met them. Barry and I were rather annoyed to be rushed to Nassau days before everyone else, so we weren’t in the mood for good impression at first, to be quite honest. At that time, I felt I had more important things to do in Paris, and Compass Point was to be just another job, that I was eager to be done with as soon as possible, and return to the day to day life of a busy Parisian session player. It took me a while to realise where I was, and who I was playing with. For the better actually, as we just went bluntly to business from minute one, Chris Blackwell included. Looking back, this probably helped in forging a long lasting friendship between all of us.

Sly & Robbie were to be the modern reggae core of the combination. Barry and I were to bring rock and electronic overtones to the picture. It all worked out well beyond expectations. Probably because we all brought much more than what was initially expected from us individually: Sly & Robbie, Mickey and Sticky were all open to new horizons already; Barry brought his unique mixture of powerful rock guitar and subtle writing skills; my natural eclecticism allowed me to create classical, jazz, funk and/or African textures and counterpoints wherever needed.

The studio was custom-built. Must have been pretty impressive. What was it like?

At first glance, it honestly did not seem that different from major studios I used to work in, in Paris or London. MCI boards and multi-tracks, JBL 4312 speakers and Auratone monitors were common in those days. Sure the rooms had their own sound, but so had quite a few facilities around the globe. Major studios always had their acoustics carefully designed by highly professional experts.

What was most impressive ironically was the over-relaxed atmosphere and nonchalant pace. The people made the difference. Despite numerous attempts to work in daytime, sessions wouldn’t start before sunset.

What made Compass Point so special? There seems to be a certain vibe to all the music that came out of the studio?

Chris Blackwell (above), period. He was the soul behind anything that went on down there. Even in his absence, people remembered where they were, and why they were there. But whenever he was around, just his presence was enough to propel anything to higher levels still; production, performance, maintenance, mood, anything. There was a solution to all problems suddenly. Things just had to “happen”, that was it. And most of the time, they did happen. Grievances and frustrations could not last, grander goals were at stake. He made us all deliver our best. The minute you entered the premises, you were impregnated with that quest for unconventional style and excellence.

How much was it to do with the fact that people were hanging out together?

The fact is, there was not much hanging out together really, specially in the begining. Alex, Barry and I would go to restaurants sometimes; Sly, Robbie, Mickey and Sticky had their own lives. Now and then Chris would invite us all at his house for dinner. But otherwise, if in the recording situation, incredible things happened, outside of the studio, we were quite estranged to each other. Only when musical outcome started to impact the outside world, we realised we could learn deeper from each other; then we got closer somehow, but never to the point of walking down the street as a band. We had our individual agenda and, as happy as we were to be delivering the music we did, once we stepped out of the studio, we were just eager to return to our solo business. We didn’t feel like staying on the island too long, as paradisian as it looked. Only Chris fully understood our potential, and dreamt of us gradually aiming at a real ‘band’ situation, sort of permanently based at Compass Point. This never really happened.

When you think of that place in your mind, what do you see?

A million pictures, far too many to express here. It’s not only what I see, but what I hear, what I smell, what I feel. It is all that went on between us, added to what went on with the incredible line-up of legendary icons we happened to meet and work with. It’s all of the things I discovered, misunderstood, experienced; all the things I’ve reached for from within “Studio W”, my all-computerized Synclavier-fitted personal room. It’s the tropical and salty humidity, as well as the conch chowder and curry chicken at ‘Traveller’s Rest’, our beloved restaurant nearby. It’s the kindness of the Bahamian people. It’s Chris Blackwell smile when we were ‘rocking’. It’s the rides aboard the blue CJ-5 Jeep Alex and I co-owned. It is all worth a full length motion picture (that I am attempting to write).

Where were the main places people went outside of the studios?

Well, you’re in Nassau Bahamas, so you name them: pool and beach in daytime, restaurants, casinos and clubs at night. Not my cup of tea really. Nor Sly, Robbie, Mickey or Sticky’s. It all sounded like paradise but, believe it or not, we seldomly took advantage of all that was at our disposal over there. Compass Point was quite remote from downtown Nassau so, apart from basic shopping around, a few restaurant in town, and the traditional ‘Junkanoo’ parade at New Year’s Eve, we hardly left our apartments. I was so absorbed by the myriads of things I wanted to achieve, I could rarely be seen near the beach or the pool for the first ten years of my stay there, despite many invitations from Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth, who frequently went sailing around the islands. Only when I was about to leave, in the early 90s, I finally had a taste of it.

Were you visiting any clubs at the time?

Not as band. I can only speak for myself so, as a matter of fact, I had stopped being the intense nightclubber I used to be in the 70s in Paris, with the advent of disco. That was intense back then, because in Paris, in between Donna Summer’s hits, one could enjoy George Benson’s ‘This Masquerade’ and Fela Kuti’s ‘Lady’ all in the same night, at the same club. I could not find that kind of variety in following decades. I went nightclubbing a couple times in Nassau during the 80s, unimpressed. I was quite unaware of the club scene in New York. Maybe for the better … because, from Grace Jones ‘Pull Up To The Bumper’ to Gwen Guthrie’s ‘Padlock’, the music we were doing was not ‘forged’ towards the dance floor. We did what we did simply because we liked it.

I remember going to the Garage once, as well as the Palace in Paris. As old school as it may sound, they both looked huge to me, deprived from that sense of communion only smaller clubs can offer. Huge dance floor, huge bars, huge snare drums, huge everything and vibes diluted. They meant a totally different experience from what I used to enjoy.

Back to the Compass Point sessions – was one person acting as musical director, or were the arrangements worked out by the musicians together?

No musical director other than Chris Blackwell himself. Chris did not even ‘direct’ anything. One does not direct Sly & Robbie. As a synth programmer and player, I never was directed, neither at Compass Point, nor anywhere else in the world. I always came out with my own ideas, and so did everybody in Nassau. Arrangements were a constant interaction between us, to the last recording minute.

Could you describe how a session would come together? Can you give us an example?

Sessions for Grace Jones and Joe Cocker had a fairly simple schedule, since they were mostly based on covers: in the control room, Chris would make us all listen to the original (or demo) a couple times, while Sly and Robbie would be building ideas mentally. Then we would all go in the recording room. Sly & Robbie would try out their ideas while I would be quickly programming a sound, and Barry and Mickey were setting up their gear. By the time I was improvising something, the tape was already rolling, and there went the first take ! We would then give it two more trials, not more. Chris’ smile and body language were the verdict. If we had it, we had it. If not, too bad. We would call up the next song. That meant, Chris had quite a number of songs ready for treatment beforehand.

What was Steven Stanley like to work with in the studio?

Very active, and yet non-obtrusive during recording. His unbreakable enthusiasm was a booster. But nothing compare to mixing time. Then, he was the absolute king of the room. As soon as he had the riddim section cooking, he was non-stop dancing the rest of the time, and the console was both a musical instrument and a choreography partner to him. It ‘talked’ to him, they had conversations, and the speakers were never loud enough. Automation was still science-fiction dream, and we had a genuine real-time performance, that I wished someone had taped. Pure genius.

Do you still stay in touch and do you know where he is now?

We never really kept in touch and again, outside of the studio, there was very little communication. I sometimes get news by Tom Tom Club’s Chris and Tina. I know he is running his own studio, back in Jamaica.

Is he someone who is an unsung hero in the story?

Well I can only talk from within Europe. Here in France, he definitely is. But so was the whole of the Compass Point phenomenon anyway, at least up until recently. It took time for people to realise who was responsible for what they heard, and to connect projects between them.

Who else was instrumental at that time who’s been missed out of the history books?

I believe Alex Sadkin still did not receive due respect for his contribution. He was visionary in running near perfect mixes right from preparing for the first takes. Today’s total recall inherent to digital production makes it common practice. Talking about digital precision, Joe Cocker’s ‘Sheffield Steel’ album, despite its minimal success, still has very little to envy, compared to today’s digital productions.

Engineer Andy Lyden was not involved in the main Compass Point All Stars sound, yet he was my invaluable partner on my “Echoes” album. He did my percussion under “Mambo” (as sampled by Massive Attack in ‘Daydreaming’) resonate far beyond what I envisioned, just as he did on my contribution to “Countryman” soundtrack. He now lives in France.

Wives and friends played an important role too, and so did studio manager Loraine Fraiser. Keeping the studio technically up and running on a tropical island was also quite an achievement. I take this opportunity to praise the work of Paul Jarvis, Moses Cargill and Ozzie Bowe.

Quite a few legends contributed but were hardly quoted as being ‘Compass Point All Stars’: Robert Palmer, ex-Wailer Tyronne Downie and Bahamian bass player Kendall Stubbs (now of Bahamen “Who let the dogs out” fame), for example.

Did you actually live on the island when working at Compass Point or were you moving around and flying back for sessions?

I personally did both. I was a constant traveller anyway, working Level 42 in the U.K., film music in L.A., and other projects in Paris or New-York. So were Chris and Tina, for both Talking Heads and Tom Tom Club agenda. Nevertheless, we were neighbours at the ‘Tip-Top’ condo Blackwell had built behind the studio. Alex did reside for a while. I never spent more than six months in row there. Steven and Andy were to reside on a more permanent basis. The rest of the team would come and go between sessions.

Part 2 to follow soon…

[Apiento]