The Catalyst interview: Howard Jones
Last December, singer, songwriter and pianist Howard Jones guested on the 90th episode of Daryl Hall’s streaming performance series Live From Daryl’s House.
The two iconic figures from of 1980s music had never met. Hall, the lanky Philadelphian singer and multi-instrumentalist, fronts a crackerjack band that can adapt and morph, depending on the guest, and Jones’ very British – and very melodic – pop songs sounded as fresh as the day they’d first appeared on London radio.
They were all so happy with the blend, they decided to take the show on the road.
Howard and Daryl. Publicity photo.
Hall and his Live From Daryl’s House band will play the Baycare Sound in Clearwater Monday, Nov. 11. Expect a solid set of the classic tunes from his years as the songwriting and lead-singing half of Hall & Oates, and solo material from the new D album, co-produced with Dave Stewart.
Opening the show, with Hall’s band behind him: Howard Jones.
A major figure in the synth- and style-driven pop movement that enveloped England in the post-punk mid ‘80s, Jones had a great run in his country’s Top Ten with “New Song,” “What is Love,” “Things Can Only Get Better” and a handful of others.
In 1986, “No One is to Blame” became his highest-charting single in America (reaching No. 4); its parent album, Dream Into Action, made the Top Ten and sold a million copies stateside.
St. Pete Catalyst: In 1985 or ’86, I had a DJ friend, Julie. The last time I saw her in the studio, she played me this new record she was crazy about – it was “No One is to Blame” by Howard Jones. Not long after that, she died in a helicopter crash. To this day, I can’t hear “No One is to Blame” without thinking about Julie. Is it the same way with you – when you hear a song, does it put you back into that moment?
Howard Jones: I think that’s the unique thing about music, isn’t it? It can do that. It describes a time in your life when you were getting into the song. And it’s there forever, and it will bring back memories. That’s the power of music, the only way I can describe it, really. It’s incredible.
But is it the same for you, with your own songs? Every show you do, you have to do “Things Can Only Get Better,” “New Song” and “No One is to Blame” … does that take you back to the studio where you recorded them? Do you go back to your haircut from the day?
(Laughing) When I’m playing “New Song,” I do remember the very first time that I played it in front of an audience. It was this tiny little pub near High Wickham in England. And the pub was absolutely packed with people. I played it, and they just went crazy for it. I think I ended up playing it three times that night. That was quite unusual for a gig! It was over 40 years ago, but sometimes I get a flashback to that event.
When I play “Hide and Seek” at the piano, I’m there on the stage at Live Aid, and being terrified to be playing to two billion people. I’ve hopefully got over the nerves now!
I recently spoke with your pal Midge Ure, and we talked about that groundbreaking period in British pop when electronics were coming in, late ’70, early ‘80s. You were a big part of that. What did you want then? Did you want to conquer the world?
I always just wanted to be able to do what I thought I was reasonably good at. To have the opportunity to play my music, to make albums, to be out there on the road being a musician, a singer and songwriter … that’s all I ever thought was right for me.
I mean, it was great good fortune that when I did finally get a record deal that the records did very well, straightaway. And so I ended up having a global audience. But I didn’t set out to do that. My aim was to just be doing it, you know, and hopefully making a living so I could keep going. I had no huge ambitions to conquer the world or anything, I just thought “Isn’t this great to be doing this?” And it just took off on its own. I didn’t really have a road map or anything. These opportunities just came naturally as a result of that.
And I think that’s why I’m still here, because I love doing this. I love playing in front of people and inspiring them, and encouraging them and giving them a good time for a couple of hours a night. Anything else that comes with it is transient, but those are the real benefits. It’s being able to touch people with the music, to get them excited and to give them a good time. That’s the real stuff.
Back in the old days, Fleet Street reporters would ask the Beatles “How long do you think you’ll last?” Lennon famously said something like “maybe five years.” Everyone assumed the bubble would burst. Here we are 40 years later, and you’re still doing what you do, for crowds that love your music. That’s got to feel good.
Well, I have suffered from that as well – “When is the bubble going to burst?” And it kind of did burst in the beginning of the ‘90s, when my record company didn’t want to continue. I’d done five albums for them, which was the deal, and they didn’t want to re-sign me. And I though “Oh no, I’m not going to be able to do this any more.” But that didn’t happen either. I just formed my own label, started to book my own tours and kept going. And it was a very rewarding experience, doing that.
So now, I could look back and say to myself “Don’t worry about this! This is just another event. You will get through it – and it’ll be even better.”
Things can only get better, right?
(Laughing) Yeah, with a caveat: Things can only get better … if you make it so.
Your songs are optimistic. I couldn’t sit here and tell you what “No One is to Blame” is about, just that it makes me feel melancholy and kind of sweet about my lost friend.
I have evolved my view of what that song is about. Which is really interesting – I don’t really feel like that about any of my other songs. But “No One is to Blame,” I now think what I was really meaning was that, you know, we’re not really responsible for the cards that we’ve been dealt. We’re born into the country, into the parents, into the brothers and sisters, the financial circumstances … those are the cards that we were dealt. And that’s not our fault.
But the question is, what are we gonna do with it? That’s the exciting bit. The song talks about frustration: “You’re the fastest runner, but you’re no allowed to win” and things like that, and we have feelings for all kinds of people … that’s part of being human.
So we aren’t to blame. However, we’re still responsible for making something great out of what we’ve got.
You’re saying this on Election Day here in the United States. That fact is not lost on me.
You know, I have great faith in the American people. America is a special place. I follow what’s going on in the news – I really, avidly read everything – and I’m meeting people in the lift, and at the reception in the hotel, and they’re all so friendly, and concerned for you. That’s what America means to me. I have a lot of faith in the American people, and I think sometimes the poison has to rise to the top before we can address it. That’s my positive take on things.
