A Restauranter's Guide To The Galaxy

-- Alternative Press, 1988

Words: Rachel Felder

 

Green Gartside -- Mr. Scritti Politti -- describes his band's sound in the distanced terminology of a fed up rock critic; as he puts it, "Our last two albums, Provision and Cupid & Psyche, were about making a clinical, finely wrought, somewhat cold, calculated, shimmering piece of pop." While that self-review does, in sense, take the words right out of my mouth, it also represents Green's almost alarming level-headiness about his work and, come to think of it, himself as well.

To start with, Green in spite of his model-handsome looks and trendy clothing, is fanatical about avoiding evidence of his fame. As he admits, "I pretty religiously go to extraordinary lengths to steer clear of my own music. I never listen to my records ever, I never watch my videos, and I never watch myself on tv." But don't expect a simple explanation of those compulsions. "I don't know why I do it -- it's quite an insane thing to do to go to those extremes," he says. "If one of my records comes on the radio, I'll run across the room to turn it off -- I don't know how sane that is."

When you consider that Scritti's last two albums have each taken over two years to produce, Green's actions seem a little more sensible. As the time come to do Provision's follow-up, he explains that the band is looking for a less extreme method of recording. "If we made another album like that, brain damage would eventually set in after eighteen months or so -- it would be incredibly expensive and take far too long. I don't think any of us ever want to do that again -- there is too much invested physically and financially. I've got to find another way to do it, but that's okay."

He continues, "I've realized that in the time it takes us to make an album, which is far too long, whole careers come and go. When we started the last album, there had been no Curiosity Killed the Cat, and by the time we were finished, they had been and gone." Green feels this difference is an advantage; he said. "It's quite nice, really, to be removed from all that, to be removed by virtue of the fact that you make a record only every two or three years. We're one step removed from the general rate at which other pop stars work, and that actually helps in terms of longevity."

That longevity has kept Scritti Politti in the British charts since the 1981 debut album, Songs To Remember, with its crunch, coy single, 'The "Sweetest Girl"'. Comparing that early album to Provision, Green feels "there are all the differences imaginable. They were done for different people, with different ideas, different aesthetics." As he described his musical beginnings, he says, "Essentially, I'm a non-musician. I started out as a non-musician, out of art school like a lot of British musicians, with a liking for the idea of making music rather than the practicalities of it. At that particular time, the whole act was to make some sort of virtue out of amateurness; you know -- 'we are cool if we play really badly, really sloppily.' There were a lot of other people like that, and around that time I did that one album for Rough Trade, the one that 'The "sweetest Girl"' was on. That was me coming out of that 'I;m a hopeless amateur and aren't I cool' phase and trying to write songs properly, which I hadn't done before."

With 1985's Cupid & Psyche album came not only international success, but a quirky set of famous admirers from Robert Palmer to (believe it or not) Run DMC to Miles Davis, who covered "Perfect Way" and cameos on Provision. Nevertheless, Green refuses to let success go to his head. "with all these things, they're not really as nice as you think they're going to be", he sighs. "Your album goes into the five or the top ten, and you feel alright, and you think 'Shouldn't I feel great about this?' and you don't." He says counting Miles Davis as a fan "is gratifying, but more than that, it's interesting to meet the guy, to have him call me at home and talk about Robbie Coltrane or to go up to his apartment and see what his bathroom looks like." Green may have more bathrooms to check out soon; as he explains, "I was impressed when both Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney both went on record saying they liked us. They both went on tv on the same day on two different channels." Grinning, he admits, "That was a good day."

Although Green is flattered by that praise, he does his best to avoid his fans. "I never want to see an audience", he confesses. "I don't want to know who they are. I probably shouldn't say this, but it makes me sad, and I don't know why. I hate having to be confronted with people who like what I do -- I get really uncomfortable about it." This may explain, at least in part, why the band doesn't play live. Green attests that "The Pet Shop Boys put the business of playing live most succinctly: they said they wouldn't do it because they were bound to be disappointed. I have a lot of sympathy for that; it makes a lot of sense to me."

Green also feels that there is potential for disappointment in recording, so he enters the studio with a specific focus in mind. "I have lots of different interests and have to be selective. when you make an album you have to say, "This is what I'm going to deal with on this record", he conjects. "If you try to get it all in -- if you say 'I like a bit of raggae and a bit of this' -- it's uncontrollably bad. You have to say, 'I want to make a certain kind of record in a certain kind of way.'"

For Scritti Politti, that "certain way" produces silky, admittedly aloof dance-floor anthems. Despite the crisp, contrived sound, Green self-effacingly asserts, "I'm a lousy singer. the job only fell to me by default because I was the only one who could even barely carry a tune. Being a singer is just a role -- it's fun, I do it all the time."

And although he plays the role of singer, spokesperson, bandleader, he plays it uncomfortably: Green is sensitive to the point of vulnerability, almost ridiculously modest. As he constantly acknowledges the anti-feeling of Scritti Politti's albums, it's that sincere, "I'm a normal person" attitude which gives him the depth which, so far, the band's recorded music has lacked.