From Prog-rocker to Punk-rocker, and upwards as a soundtrack/opera composer – drummer Stewart Copeland is one of the most colourful and flamboyant characters in the wonderful world of music.
Last night he didn’t bring his drumkit, but rather his unique take and voice to recount stories, memories and fascinating scenarios as part of his Have I Said Too Much? tour.
The great power trios are few and far between. Cream, The Jimi Hendrix Experience and Rush spring to mind.
Right up there with them were The Police. We all know Sting, but his lesser-known bandmates were more associated with the mastery of their respective axes; namely gun guitarist Andy Summers, and the man of tonight’s focus – skins man Stewart Copeland.
The weather-bombing blew hard at full-scale in Auckland, keeping people at home as an intimate audience gathered at Takapuna’s Bruce Mason Centre. No playing, just talking. But this wasn’t just a regular talk – Stewart Copeland has the eloquence and vocabulary of a thespian blended with next level street knowledge, with the wit and delivery of a top-tier standup comic.
With Australian presenter Sarah Tout hosting, Copeland was given space to recall his childhood and family life, through to successes in a musical career that has seen him diversify into unexpected areas.
Born in the States, Copeland relocated with his family at an early age, growing up in Beirut.
The placement there was because his father Miles Copeland snr, was in the CIA – and a founding member at that.
Later, schooling meant another shift, to England – where Copeland explained that… all of a sudden I couldn’t take a piss in public, there were perfectly good bushes everywhere for that.
With two older siblings’ musically inclined (Miles and Ian), Stewart was to discover drums and music management through them both.
Learning the ins and outs of the biz as a roadie for Wishbone Ash, Copeland was to later pick up sticks and earn his stripes with Prog-rock group Curved Air. He shamefully but somewhat proudly talked about writing in letters of inquiry about himself to Melody Maker to manufacture his own articles with them.
In full-swing, Copeland’s vocabulary was so vibrant and without pause, he seemed to talk like a drum solo. Tout hit the pause button and waited with interest for an entry point, but it was Copeland’s self-directedness that moved things along.
Embracing the DIY ethic of Punk music, Copeland would go on to have a charted single under the pseudonym Klark Kent with Don’t Care.
Recording the song himself and playing all the instruments, he would liken his application and make a comparison to Paul McCartney. He was wise to not make reference to Stevie Wonder or Prince.
The aforementioned single was to see Copeland perform it on Top Of The Pops, with his newly found bandmates backing him (including Sting and Summers), all in disguise. That success was short and sweet as The Police gained momentum as a unit soon after.
Copeland had plenty to say about Sting – he’s quiet and deep, I’m loud and shallow.
Sometimes the Sting bashing seemed more driven for laughs, as the C word would later be exclaimed in gusto. But Copeland reassured us that everything came out in the wash through band therapy sessions. The culprit was musical differences and rising conflict there. Check some of the food and drink throwing fights between Copeland and Sting online for further out entertainment.
An intermission broke the two-hour conversation, with the request from Tout for questions to be composed by the audience for Copeland to later draw from a headless floor tom and answer.
More Police ditties followed, Copeland giving insight to the declining recording sessions in Montserrat for Ghost in The Machine (1981).
Describing the band’s fabric as like wearing Armani suits made of barbed wire, Summers was sent to entice legendary producer George Martin to help the troubled team.
When told by a hands-off Martin that they had talent and they would work it out, they somehow did.
Tout threw some rapid-fire questions at Copeland, discovering that he is fond of NZ bands Split Enz and Fat Freddy’s Drop.
Just prior to the eventual demise of the Police, Copeland was to enter with world of film scores, beginning with Francis Ford Coppola’s Rumblefish (1983).
I was surprised to learn that Copeland has composed soundtracks for film and television, as well as video games to a total of nearly one hundred.
When asked questions from the audience about his exposure to Polynesian drumming, Copeland referred to one of those – Rapa Nui (1994), highlighting the ethnomusicologist in him (see 1985’s The Rythmatist).
Much like his approach to drumming in the Police – the secret sauce and x-factor was that I made shit up on the spot, Copeland ran with the opportunity to compose an opera in Italy. Adopting a Kurosawa approach with multiple perspectives, it was a hit.
Nowadays Copeland works with orchestras on a frequent basis, conducting with a drumstick using his trademark traditional/orthodox grip (which he explained comes historically from marching/side drumming).
Referring to those musicians as orcs, one couldn’t help thinking of the winking connection between Tolkien, and us Aucks.
Of the Police, Copeland reassured us; don’t believe the papers, we love each other.
After talking in Wellington earlier in the week, tonight’s conversation was the last in the leg of this tour for Copeland. He has more to come though, taking things Stateside next month.
A study in dialogue, just like his drumming – Stewart Copeland has those endless riffs down, that’s for sure.
Mike Beck
