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Her irresistible name had a lot to do with it. But her voice certainly wasn't a handicap. The rise to international success of Dusty Springfield, world poll winner, is a model fairy-tale story. Here, at last, is Britain's powerful answer to the "coloured sound". And happily, her personality matches her professional artistry. Dusty is that rare bird--a singer who knows music well, a singer who has to believe in a song before recording it. A singer with soul. Her dedication to work is amazing. Her reputation in music circles can be summarised in three important words: Anything WON'T do!" Exactly how she thinks of herself as a singer and as a person; why she expects a lot from people involved in making music with her; what she thinks of the state of the pop world--these, and many more subjects, are covered in the first Music Maker Interview.
Are you a part-throwing, fun-loving "goon" as some of your publicity would have us believe?
I don't goon around a lot, and I don't think my private life comes into my public image a great deal. If a rolled drunkenly around the West End it would be a different matter, and I'd expect people to get annoyed and brand me. The press is generally more inaccurate in its stories about me than accurate: one small bread roll becomes a meat pie or a cheese pie. I don't exactly go round all the time hurling cream cakes at people, you know!
But do you enjoy your reputation for goonish humour?
If people think of me as a light-hearted goon, I'm quite happy--they'd be right to think there is a slightly nutty streak inside me. But let's forget it: self-analyis on this kind of thing sounds so pompous.
Are you nervous when you're working?
If I'm on tour I worry a lot about being heard. There are so many bad amplification systems. No, not very nervous as such. More nervous when I'm without my own backing group--when the Echoes aren't with me it's an "Oh, dear--let's get out of this place" nervousness!
Are you superstitious?
Not really, but I always walk under ladders. I have this thing about trying to be different from everyone else. I do definitely believe in the "little people"--odd Irish whims keep coming back to me now and then.
How important is what you wear to your performances?
Probably fifty percent--yes, as much as that. Preparation of dresses, and choosing, takes a long, long time before shows.
Do you choose everything personally?
I select a lot of my clothes, and for really important things, like a TV series, the choosing is done by a pooling of ideas. Actually, I bought all my dresses for my BBC-TV series off-the-peg, and they were all made by Darnell of London (plug!). I'm very bad with dresses--I don't switch around enough. I wear and wear them until they're worn out.
Would marriage affect your popularity?
Probably. I'd never thought about it that way.
Would you appear before racially segregated audiences?
I would never agree to, but if I was faced with a situation where the circumstances were different from what the contract said--in other words, that I'd asked for non-segregation and faced a segregated audience that night--then I'd be really torn apart, wondering which way to go. Refusing to go on would be bad, but appearing would also be bad. It would be wrong both ways. This has happened. It's agony.
What do you think of the statement that you are Britain's answer to Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan?
It's a very nice thing to hear, but it is misguided. I cannot do anything like either of them, because I have no application for it. I'm not a born improviser unless there's a lot of atmosphere going--then I'll rave with the best of them.
Who is your biggest influence as a singer now?
I like to listen to Aretha Franklin, but I could never be influenced by her because her range is so staggering. I'm not a great record player, you know. I still get most kicks out of good gospel, Motown or good Latin-American.
When you consider a new single, or songs for a new LP, what is uppermost in your thoughts--the words, the tune or the songwriter?
Basically the tune is most important. I'm most interested in melodic content, then the lyric--although it's hard to draw the line when you consider that with "Goin' Back" it was mainly lyric. When I hear a great tune, I think first of the chords running behind it--that's what makes it for me. If everything sounds lovely and right, I get a real churning, exciting feeling inside. I know this sounds funny, but it's definitely a personal thing. I also get great excitement out of a good, solid beat, or schmaltz. Oh, let's face it, I'm an old ham!
What sort of performance takes most out of you--TV, concert, recording session?
Recording sessions are the most exacting. I worry most in the studio because I think that nine out of ten times I could have done better and I know I've got to like for ever with what has been recorded. Making records is a very big responsibility for everyone.
When you left the Springfields to go solo, did you deliberately set out to achieve the coloured sound?
I started out copying every coloured voice I heard, but I've settled down a lot now. I'm still influenced by some, especially when I hear new records. Today, I am no longer consciously striving to get a coloured sound. If that's what it is, it comes naturally. The other night Ike Turner was listening to some of my early tracks and I had terrible trouble persuading him that I don't sing like that any more. I felt so awful listening to some of my excruciating early stuff that I wished the floor would open so I could drop through it!
Which recording of yours are you most satisfied with, and why?
It's a split between three. "Some Of Your Lovin'", because I like the words and I've always considered it such a pretty song. "Goin Back", because I love the lyrics and the orchestra was something beautiful. And "I Had A Talk With My Man", from my LP. This could easily be my favourite because it has a nice atmosphere and I was pleased with the sound.
And your pet hates?
Ho ho! "Stay Awhile" and "In The Middle Of Nowhere". I suppose they were right at the time for hit sounds, but looking back, they were probably the worst. They have made no lasting contribution to my career, and I have a real hate relationship with them. I also have a pretty strong loathing for "Your Hurtin' Kind Of Love". It was done in such a rush, but that's no excuse. Records are terrifying things, in a way. If you do a rotten performance, you can try to forget and hope some others will forget. But make a bad record and it's there forever. There's something terribly final about them.
It's said that at your recording sessions, you are very difficult to please--moody with musicians, insisting on take after take. Why are you so fastidious? Do you regard session musicians as inferior when employed in pop?
If it isn't right first time, it just has to be done again. I don't see what's fastidious about that. And I usually find that whatever they say about me afterwards, the musicians admit I have a point. They'll probably grumble like hell in the corner, but the relationship is pretty good generally. I know the boys by their first names, and they know mine. We get along pretty well.
But what is so special about your requirements that makes it so long a session sometimes? Do you find session men in Britain don't have the "feel" for the sounds you're after?
They can become involved, but sometimes it isn't their kind of music. Some of them are backing me because they are out to make a living. There's nothing wrong in this, but sometimes it makes it harder to get what I want. And if they don't want to sit in a band playing pop, they shouldn't be there doing it--unless they're prepared to give what's wanted of them.
Where would you say some of the session men fail, as far as your recordings are concerned?
I would say there's a singular lack of "feel" for what I can only describe as "funk". We can produce the most marvellous big, fat sounds, but we seem incapable of producing the sort of loose, uninhibited sort of funk that, say, Motown gets. But I don't expect we can ever achieve it, because it comes naturally to them. My trouble is that I want Detroit moving to London.
Why is Tamla-Motown having such mammoth revival of success now?
People are wising up to the fact that it is professional, rehearsed and musical. It may be a repetitive sound sometimes, but it is a lovely mixture of primitive beat and real sophistication. I can only assume that Motown's recent successes have followed from the growing interest in soul music generally. It can get a little complicated, and when this happens it's sometimes uncommercial. But to me, there's no better sound in pop.
Can Tamla's sounds change--and should they?
They're beginning to move now--flutes and piccolos on the Four Tops' "Reach Out I'll Be There". It used to be only brass. Motown will change--they're too clever and too talented to stand still. And the fans will stay with them, I hope.
Talking of fans--what sort of responsibility do you think a star owes to his or her fans? Aside from entertainment, do you think a star should try to exert opinions on the public?
An artist's responsibility to fans takes two sides, I think. To entertain. And to keep up a respectable appearance. I think fans try to see you as they imagine you.
What are your thoughts when you are on stage?
I find the best technique is to be immersed in the song. Of course, it can vary--if I'm on a tour, for instance, then doing the same songs night after night I find myself wondering where I should put my hands, or am I standing on the right foot! When you are tired on tour, you have to be on guard against staleness.
Would you like to make a film?
Yes. But not a second-rate musical. I'd like to do a nutty film--something like a "B" film, and something that would make me appear as I really am. If I got a good script, I'd love to have a go. "The Knack" sort of thing--that would be nice.
What is your favourite instrument?
I'll answer that by saying what's the most important instrument to me as a singer. Bass guitar. It's so important these days. Get a good bass guitar and it's the background to a good sound. We can't get anywhere near the sounds you hear on records by people like James Brown, or Ike and Tina, but I'm happy with the bass guitar in my own group, the Echoes.
How do you rate the present state of the pop world--the charts, the scene generally?
It's a very healthy sign that so many good American records are returning to the charts. On the other hand, I hope it doesn't get to the stage where we accept anything just because it's from the States. That's how it was a few years ago. It would be gorgeous to have a lovely mixture. Right now, the best kind of American pop is coming in. You always get bad stuff with it, but the good stuff is so good.
What's your future?
In Britain, one can only go so far. I'll probably do more cabaret. The ideal thing seems to be to model myself internationally in the same way that Pet[ula] Clark has done--walking a very clever tightrope between various countries. I'd like to work both here and in the States regularly, with occasional appearances on the Continent. I'm very happy because the age group of my fans runs from five-year-olds to seventy-year-olds.
How do you know that--do you read all your fan mail?
No, but I read an awful lot of it. I read every press cutting, though--and I'm just wondering what ghastly headline you're going to put on this lot!
Author unknown
Music Maker
1968