Rick Clark's Music I Love Blog: Gus Dudgeon, David Bowie, Bonzo Dog Band, Audience, John Kongos, XTC, etc.
Space Oddity - part of Paul Buckmaster’s “Space Oddity” string chart
My involvement with Gus began a couple of years before he and his wife passed away from a tragic automobile accident in 2002. I received an e-mail from Gus requesting a replacement copy of a CD I produced every year for The Oxford American Magazine. Gus had loaned his copy to a friend who lost it. When Gus found out that the CD was one of a series I produced, he stayed on top me until I send him the rest. From that point on, Gus sent me numerous and lengthy e-mails about every track on each disc; we wound up spending hours on the phone yakking about music and whatever else was on our minds. I was continually struck by how much he truly loved music, especially Americana and roots-type music. At one point, I asked him if he had ever considered, due to his love of American music, moving to the States. He replied that there had been a time when many of his English friends moved Stateside and had tried to get him to come over. Upon reflection, he’d realized that as much as he loved artists like Doug Sahm, Fats Domino, and newer artists like Nickel Creek and The Yahoos, his heart and soul were rooted in England and he knew that he would always stay there.
After one of our conversations, I casually mentioned to Gus that it might be cool to do an interview for Mix. He agreed and we did several lengthy interviews shortly before the accident. This is very likely the last interview Gus Dudgeon ever gave, and I hope it conveys some of this legendary producer’s enthusiasm for his work and his real love for great music.
Rick Clark: How did you come upon the realization that you wanted to work in music?
Gus Dudgeon: Well, basically when I left school, I ran through 11 jobs in four years. I got fired from every single one ’cause I used to get bored and would leave without telling them. I worked in a toy store. I sold purple hearts on the streets of London — a pound for 100. I worked for a clip joint, an advertising agency. Just ridiculous jobs. I had no idea what I wanted to do.
My mother was doing PR for a company that was just opening, which found jobs for people, called ManPower. My mum came home and said, “Listen, we found you a job at a recording studio.” And I said, “Doing what? What do I know about recording?” She said, “Well, I don’t know, but this guy got sent to a studio last week and I don’t think he was that qualified either.” So I thought, “Okay, I’ll go and do an interview.” I was 17 or 18 years old.
So I went to interview for this job at Olympic Studios, which at that point was just off of Baker Street in an alleyway that is now sadly not there any more. I walked into the reception area, and there was a series of Lonnie Donegan EPs on the wall, of which I had two and actually still have to this day. And, in true kind of cheap EP style, they had the same photographs on the front of each different jacket, only slightly tinted differently. One was tinted orange, one was tinted green, but exactly the same picture of him on the front with a microphone but behind him were these acoustic tiles. Right then, I noticed behind the receptionist were these same acoustic tiles. All of a sudden, I got this rush. I thought, “Wait a minute, people make records in here. I can’t believe it!” By the time I had gotten up to the boss’ office for the interview, I was already working in this place in my mind. He asked me certain questions, like did I know how a tape machine worked and so forth. By a weird quirk of fate, I actually did have a tape machine made by a company called Baritone. I was able to record little things at home and make a bounce on it, which is kind of nifty and it impressed my friends. I was the only person I knew who had a tape machine.
So, obviously, I was headed in that direction, albeit inadvertently. So he asked me questions and I waffled on a lot of crap. He asked, “Could you take a tape machine to bits and put it back together again?” I’m going, “Yes, of course I can.” [Laughs] It was completely untrue. A week later, he rung up and offered me the job.
On the very first day, I made a decision: “Gus, this is it! This is your job. This is your life, and it is what you have to do.” When I sat in on the very first session, the engineer pushed the monitors up, and I was like, "God, I can hear the bass!" I could hear things I've never heard on my Baritone machine at home. I was utterly blown away with the power of it, and I could actually hear things clearly. As the session progressed, I watched musicians playing while I'm standing by the control room window looking down, going "God, these people just pick up a chart and just play. It's fucking amazing!" That was it. I was hooked. There was no going back from that point onwards.
This was around 1961 or 62. I remember Del Shannon came in and did a session. I was wetting myself. I simply couldn't believe it. We had quite a few American acts come in and record. Of course, all the top English acts, like Frankie Vaughan, the early Tremolos and Jimmy Page when he was in Carter-Lewis and the Southerners.
Carter-Lewis and the Southerners (Jimmy Page was briefly a bandmate.) - “Skinny Minnie” - Originally recorded by Bill Haley & His Comets back in '58
Gus Dudgeon: I remember when The Zombies came in to record. The Zombies basically won a contest, which was a record deal with Decca. At that time, they didn't have "She's Not There" or much of that material. They were basically, you know, doing mostly all the American R&B stuff, like so many English bands were at the time.
I remember that session for "She's Not There" went really well because The Zombies were a great band, and they had this really odd, off the wall song. Shortly after we did the session, it suddenly shot to number 1.
At one point, Rod Argent said to me, "It's really weird. We won the contest, and I thought, I suppose I really ought to write myself a number one record. So I did. And after it went to number one, I thought I'd better do that again. And I never did." (laughs) I said, "Well, I suppose, yeah, if you were that naive about it, it would be a bit of a surprise that you couldn't keep writing number ones. (laughs).
A guy later showed up from Cashbox Magazine and presented them with their award. I remember seeing them being given the honor and thinking, "God, I would like one of those someday." I eventually did, but winning awards was never an ambition for me. As I said to you the other day, I never got into this business to make money. I got into it because all I ever did as a kid was spending my money on records. To be suddenly allowed to actually work in that industry was like heaven to me. I couldn't believe my luck.
Rick Clark: You worked with The Bonzo Dog Band. I loved those albums.
Gus Dudgeon: Oh man, I loved working with The Bonzos! They were just such good fun. Basically, it was whatever you want to do, try it. And if it's not very good, don't worry about it. I think that was one of the things that got me the XTC gig was they were huge Bonzo fans. We used to have regular suppertime Bonzo listening sessions.
Rick Clark: That’s sounds like it would’ve been a blast.
Gus Dudgeon: Oh, yeah. (laughs) I remember listening to the tracks with them (XTC) and thinking, "What the hell was I on because everything is panning everywhere." (laughs) Things never stopped moving! Back then, I think if I was sitting there and got bored with the stereo, I just moved something somewhere else for the hell of it.
Sometimes, when we'd finish a track, the band would go off to the pub, which was the first place they would go once they got out of the studio. I was never a big drinker. Viv (Stanshall) would say as he was leaving, "By the way, dear boy, during the solo, could you possibly find some rabbits eating on a D maybe and possibly find colored elephants trumpeting and if you can find a lion doing something disgusting throw that on as well.” So, I'd say "OK, great" and I'd rush down to the Decca sound effects library and pull out all the sound effects I could find and chuck them all over the place. (laughs) The band didn't even bother to come to check and see if they liked it. (laughs)
Bonzo Dog Band doing a live television performance of their song “Death Cab For Cutie.”
Rick Clark: How did you transition into production from being a staff engineer?
Gus Dudgeon: What happened is, I was doing a 4-track Moody Blues session that Denny Cordell was producing, and I was really pleased with the sound we had achieved. It was difficult in those days to get a great sound on every single track. If you put a rhythm track together, you might have as many as five different people on one track. When you got a great sound and a really good balance, it was really not worth changing — I would fight for it. The Moodys got to the session first, and they wanted me to change the EQ and add echo all over the place. I was getting more and more pissed off. And then Denny came in about an hour-and-a-half into the session and said, “Play me what you’ve got.” Before I played it to him, I said, “Listen Denny, before you hear this, I’ve got to tell you that since you’ve heard it last week, the guys had me stick all kinds of shit all over it.” And he went, “Well that’s probably what they want. Let’s have a listen to it.” So I played it, and he said, “Well, it sounds all right to me.” And I said, “Well Denny, can I just play it to you without any of the effects on it?” He said, “No.” I said, “Why not?” He said, “That’s what the boys want.” I went, “I think that’s pretty stupid. A week ago when we did the session, you loved it.” And he said, “Well I think it sounds fine now.” So he got pissed off and rang the head office. They called me back and said, “Listen, you can’t talk to Denny like that. We’ve just given him his own label. He’s an important producer.” I said, “Yeah, but I have an opinion. Surely my opinion isn’t valueless.” They said, “Well, you’ve got to go back into the control room and apologize to Denny.” So I put the phone down with my tail between my legs and went back into the control room, and he said, “Gus, do me a favor. Just let me hear what it is you’re talking about.” So I took all of the EQ and all of the effects off and just played it flat. And he said, “You’re absolutely right. That’s 10 times better. The guys in the band are full of shit. Run it off the way you want to do it.” And I went, “Oh, great. Okay.”
As he was leaving the control room, after the end of the mix, he said, “You’re bored with this aren’t you?” I said, “Well, I’ve been doing it almost six years, and the challenge has gone out of it now. I’d like to move on to something else and I don’t know what.” He said, “I reckon you should get into production.” I was amazed. He said, “I think you’d be good at it.”
About two weeks later, I did a session with Andrew Oldham [producer/manager for the Rolling Stones]. I used to always do his sessions at Decca. At the end of the session, Andrew said, “It’s about time you went into production, isn’t it?” And I thought, “Christ, you’re the second producer in two weeks to say something to me about that.” I said, “Well, I’m kind of thinking about it.” And he said, “Well, good luck, mate. If you want any help, give me a call.” As he walked out the door, he stuck his head back in and said, “Oh, by the way, make sure you get a royalty.” This was like ’65 or ’66. I thought, “What a good idea.” But it was between Denny and Andrew pushing me that I kind of took the bull by the horns and went into production.
Rick Clark: One of your most well-known production credits is David Bowie’s first big hit, “Space Oddity.”
The only reason “Space Oddity” was done was because the label was looking for some kind of gimmick. At that point in his career, Bowie’s manager couldn’t give him away. So Mercury picked it up very cheaply and got in touch with Tony Visconti. Tony said he would do the album, but he hated this “Space Oddity” song. So he said, “Gus is in the next office. Pop in and see if he wants to do that. He can do it on the B-side, and I’ll do the album.” And that’s how it came about. I spent more time planning ahead of the recording more than any other I’d done. The demos I did for “Space Oddity” were bloody good demos. I also spent a lot of time planning the first Elton album, but it came out of habit from “Space Oddity,” and that approach proved to be so successful.
I spent a lot of time planning the first Elton album, what I call the Black Album. But that was out of habit, because of what I did on "Space Oddity" and it proved to be so successful. By the time I got to Tumbleweed Connection, there was a much looser idea, so I didn't want to plan that one. Tumbleweed Connection was an album that needed to be put together on the spot in the studio. I had this bizarre system because I don't read or write music. I wrote all the lyrics out in a straight line across the board. I then divided different colors to express different instruments in the band. The demo I did of "Space Oddity" was bloody good. You can find it on the Ryko Sound + Vision box set.
The minute I heard the song, I thought it was outstanding. I'd already worked with him before, when I was an engineer because I did all the early stuff — “Please, Mister Gravedigger,” "Love You Till Tuesday" and "Silly Boy Blue" and all that on the Bowie album that came out on Decca.
Rick Clark: "Laughing Gnome"
Gus Dudgeon: Yeah. (laughs) I'm actually the other gnome.
David Bowie "Space Oddity" chart by Paul Buckmaster
David Bowie handwritten notes on making “Space Oddity” - part one
David Bowie handwritten notes on making “Space Oddity” - part two
Rick Clark: One record I always loved that you produced was “He's Going To Step On You Again,” by John Kongos.
Gus Dudgeon: The whole track is built upon one constant loop, which was quite blatantly lifted off a record. This is in 1971. I remember thinking, "God, somebody's going to find out and sue me." As it turned out, the loop was made up of a recording of an African tribe, on location, in the bush somewhere doing a thing called the “Wellington Boot Dance.” That was the name of the track anyway. It was a South African album. John was a South African artist, and he had this album, and he pulled this thing out to put a drum track together, just to make the demo. He was actually trying to write a song for a band called Mungo Jerry, who'd just scored a number one hit with a song called "In the Summer Time." That was what John was trying to do.
So John brought in this demo, with this loop going on in the background, and played it for one of our pluggers, and the guy said, "Oh John, man, this is brilliant! Why would you want to give this to Mungo Jerry?" John said, "Cause I'd like to make money, you know? It would be great if I can write the follow up to 'In the Summer Time,' you know." So this plugger said, "No, no, let's go play it to Gus, I think he'll love it." So they played it for me, and I said, "Fantastic. What's going on in the background?" John then explained to me the situation, and I'm thinking, "Oh my God! He's running this loop around and around the tape head, genius. I said to him, "John, there's just no way you'll recreate that. That's just a piece of magic."
So lo and behold, we went into the studio and recreated the loop the same way he did it because he'd thrown the original one away. We found the same section from the record and made the same edit, which took a lot of time. We sped it up slightly, which he'd done, and then we added further drums on top. It really is a beautiful sample. It is all humanity, and that's what's so great about it.
You're not going to believe this coincidence, but I was actually with the drummer last night who played on that session. I haven't seen him in 30 years, and I was with him last night.
We talked about that record, and he said, "I thought you were bloody mad. You know everybody did because the loop was about two and three-quarters bars long. Every time it went round, it was off by a quarter bar." He said, "You asked me to play with it." And I said, "But I told you, Roger, as long as you play straight through, four on the floor, it will work. After a certain number of bars, it will be back where it started." He took a stab at it and went, "Bloody hell, it does work!" He was convinced it couldn't happen. I'll tell you what's interesting, also one of the unique things about that record, it was one of the first records to use a four-on-the-floor bass drum like that, which, of course, is the root of Disco, if you think about it.
Rick Clark: There is one band you produced that I wanted to mention because I enjoyed their music so much. We played this one album to death at the record shop where I worked in Memphis during the early '70s.
Gus Dudgeon: Audience!
Rick Clark: YES! We wore out that album in the shop!
Gus Dudgeon: (laughs) I love that album, too! That singer is still one of my greatest friends. He is just a lovely talented man. He teaches at a college and is not actively making records or anything. But Audience is one of my favorite bands. I love them, and I loved working with them.
Rick Clark: I liked the next album Lunch, but not as much as House on the Hill.
Gus Dudgeon: Lunch was a little bit less focused.
Rick Clark: But I really liked the single from Lunch, "Stand By The Door."
Gus Dudgeon: Yeah, that was one of my favorites too.
I remember one thing that was kind of strange. I was asked by Charisma (the English record label), if I would mind going over to present it to Elektra, who would release it in America. And I said, "Yeah sure," cause I knew Jack Holtzman. Jack was a delightful man. The first time I came to New York, he showed me around the place and gave me a lot of tips. He was just great. So I was pleased I was on his label.
So they offered me to do a playback of the album in a studio situation, so I said, “OK, fine.” I was used to the classic American record label bullshit, which I always find very funny and quite enjoyable. It doesn't phase me. Other people from England can't stand it. It just drives them up the bloody wall. Anyway, we were all ushered into this studio. There were about 50 or 60 seats, much to my astonishment in the studio area. And they started playing the album. They played the first track of the album, Side one, track one. When it got to the end of the opening track, everyone in the room burst into applause, and I thought, "That's fucking track one!!" Anyway, the guys stop the tape, and there is more applause, and then the second track starts. When it gets to the end, there is another burst of applause. Now I'm thinking this is ridiculous! Then I suddenly realized that by the end of the third song, they were just doing it cause they'd been told to. (laughs)
So first, I thought How (Howard Werth, leader of Audience and frontman) is going to be thrilled. I'll ring him up, "Blimey! They're applauding!" Now I'll have to ring him up again and say, "Actually How, they applauded through the whole bloody thing, because they'd obviously being told to do so." I thought it was hilarious.
Rick Clark: You produced XTC’s Nonesuch.
Gus Dudgeon: That was tough going. Andy (Partridge) is one of the most talented people I've ever met. Still, I think he's also why the band never really became very successful. He's one of those people who, during the space of one day, you can flip between loving him and hating him about five times. You go from thinking this the funniest guy in the world because he's got you on the floor laughing so much, and the next thing you want to do is punch his teeth out. He's just impossible. Eventually, after that album, Dave Gregory, the guitarist, left the band. He just said, "I can't handle any more of this." During one particularly severe blow-out between Andy and me, I suddenly realized I was the only person in the room. Everyone else had quit. It's a great shame because he's very talented. But I'm not very proud of that album because, to be honest with you. I never actually did any of the mixes. I only did rough mixes on about five songs.
Rick Clark: When you think about all of the things you’ve done and seen, it must sometimes feel like it has been quite a ride.
Gus Dudgeon: In the ’60s, there were really only three things you should be in England. It was either music, fashion or film. And I just happened to get in the music business at the time when it was absolutely the place to be. Obviously, I didn’t realize that is what had happened till halfway through the ’70s. [Laughs] I suddenly realized that I was actually in the best thing you could possibly be doing. I mean, how good is that?