INTERVIEW WITH FISH OF MARILLION I am FUGAZI of TAURUS, and this is the third in a series of articles about the glorious art of symphony rock. In the first issue of Buzz I published The Beginner's Guide to Symphony Rock, a first lesson of what symphonic rock actually is. In the second issue was the history of Marillion, perhaps the most wellknown symphonic group of the Eighties. And in this issue I'll present an interview that was made with the singer of Marillion, Fish (who is NOT to be compared with Fish/LSD!). It was first published in the Swedish music magazine SLITZ issue 3/87, just after the release of their last album as an original band, "Clutching at Straws". It was made by the great rock journalist Stefan Johansson, who's known for his very "intimate" interviews with different rockstars. Fish. The great Scotsman. The man who proved that you can actually have the real name of Derek William Dick and still be a rockstar. In the beginning he was a big mouth who liked to impersonate his idol Peter Gabriel. Nowadays Fish and his band Marillion is the biggest band that still is called "Cult". Slitz meets a man who has the guts to believe in himself! I remember that I thought he was a huge man where he sat, at the little office a few stairs away from Marquee on Waldour Street, presenting his ideas. At that time, May 1983, I sat down to interview the singer of a symphony rock band, that had just signed a contract with EMI. But my suspiciousness was like vanished into thin air after just five minutes. - We know what we want, Fish said eventually. This kind of music has never died, and I don't care if it's not very trendy. We had just come to the agreement that "Selling England by the Pound" by Genesis was one of the greatest masterpieces of the Seventies, but hadn't really come to a conclusion about "Fragile" by Yes. I asked something about the future, but Fish just laughed and said with a smile: - It's really great to be running. To have a record contract is really wonderful, and... I just love this business! When I meet Fish, whose real name is Derek William Dick, four and a half years later, he squirms when I remind him of that interview in London. Now he tells me about why he's written an album about the back yard of the music business. - I was dying, Stefan. When the doctor had finished his physical examination, he looked me straight in the eyes and said: "If you maintain this lifestyle, you won't reach 30". - First I just laughed, but a few hours later the shock came. I was terrified. Fish, who is 29 years of age and who got married last summer, doesn't say that he's a teetotaller; instead he tells us that he's trying to appease his conscience, and that he has a responsibility towards his closest. Fish just rushed into the business with the entusiasm of the beginner and an "I-want-everything-now"- attitude, and because of that the bottle of Jack Daniels and the strings of cocaine became "essential". - I don't want to excuse myself or blame it on someone, but I just couldn't cope with the pressure. I had an image as a person to be "the misunderstood poet", who was drinking and taking drugs. A deeper reasoning with Fish about the latest Marillion album, "Clutching at Straws", and about himself as a person, gives the answers to the questions: he is a thinker who sometimes turns the simple into the hard; - Eventually I realised that I couldn't go around with the weight of the world on my shoulders. I'm trying to get away from those senses of guilt and I feel that I'm beginning to find that true happiness now. He and his wife Tamara have just bought themselves a house in Buckinghamshire in England (they are neighbours with Bruce Dickinson in Iron Maiden), and it's probably the simple and truth of a fine relationship Fish has always been searching for. - Perhaps I've thought that I've been a weird person, a searcher and a thinker. But, what the hell, this is what I want...! Fish and Marillion are today in a situation that no one believed them to be found in: they're established, they sell records and Fish is one of the greatest rock personalities in England. After four studio albums and a live album, Marillion have found their identity. But has Marillion got rid off the Genesis complex that was so obvious on the first two records? I'm almost too afraid of asking him the question, because he's thundering out some swear words in a strange Scottish accent. But he also says: - We're from there. Genesis are one of my greatest influences. But he talks just as much about Peter Hammill, and when he tells us what he feels about Hammill's music, he makes it sound like he's presenting the kind of music he'd like Marillion to play: - His music is demanding, it's almost confusing. It's a very fascinating mystery. He's almost pissed off when he talks about the ones who occuse Fish of copying Peter Gabriel's way of singing in Genesis. - I liked Jon Anderson (Yes) a long time before I discovered Gabriel. I played "Fragile" until the record almost disintegrated, and I imitated him in the bathroom... Though I've firstly considered Marillion as a well functioning symphonic rock band - perhaps it's feelings of nostalgica - it hasn't stopped me from being fascinated by Fish's lyrics. They were a little too spaced out on the debut album "Script for a Jester's Tear" (1983), but got sharper on "Fugazi" (1984), where Fish succeded in expressing his depression without sounding overcome with grief. After the interlude with the live album "Real to Reel" (1984) they released "Misplaced Childhood" (1985). Fish had always dreamt about making a theme album a la the Seventies, and actually made it work. "Misplaced Childhood" is Marillion's best album, and it even produced hits like "Kayleigh" and "Lavender". If you listen to "Clutching at Straws" (1987) it's obvious that "Misplaced Childhood" marked the end of a chapter in the Marillion tale; the sound was now more modern, and the rhythms were marked in songs that weren't really of the traditional symphony rock fashion. Fish writes lyrics where he wakes up with a gigantic hangover, trying to find out what he's been doing the past years. - That was a hard period in my life, he says. Now I've realised that I had some real problems to deal with. The other four guys of the band - Steve Rothery on guitars, Mark Kelly on keyboards, Pete Trewavas on bass and Ian Mosley on drums - were all the time trying to conceal their agitation, and Fish now realises that that they were really worried about him. - I didn't listen to them, he says quietly, almost unhearable. Perhaps Fish has succeeded in shaking off the Genesis complex, but his literary ambitions and references shines through. There's a bit of Kerouac in Clutching at Straws; each lyric is a tale in some sort of a travel, where "White Russian" is written on hotel Hilton in Vienna, "Torch Song" on Virgin Airways between Newark and Heathrow and "Sugar Mice" on Holiday Inn in Milwaukee. - Perhaps I've fooled myself, Fish says. I wanted to party on just to get inspiration and experiance. Just like the great authors and poets. And I also thought that I was better than other just because I was writing. - I must have been a pain in the ass from time to time. You can't walk through life thinking like that... Just like Fish in many ways is a serious person who wants to express a seriousness in his lyrics, he is also that nice Scotsman who never is far from bursting out laughing. It can be true that he's been taking himself too seriously, but I never saw much of that at the Marillion concert in Stockholm November last year. For which rockstar have you seen scuttling around on the stage in a Scottish squared suit and a tight T-shirt that more reveals than conceals that perhaps one too many pints of lager have settled around his waist? When I go backstage afterwards, the enormous Fish is jumping around restlessly with a lot of energy left to waste. - Did you like it? - Ofcourse I did. - But it has been better. It always works great in Stockholm. The crowd really knows our lyrics and they seem to be having great fun. Then he bursts out laughing, shouts something at the band, that sits in a large sofa, points at my stomach and says: - It seems that you've gained quite a belly too... - But it's nothing compared to yours. - Hey, wanna measure? OK, out with it... Fish, the Scot who wants to solve all the world problems, doesn't solve this one very good. - Damn it, mine is bigger, he says, and Pete Trewavas sitting in the sofa splits his sides laughing at it. Fish is feeling great. There was a time when he was fooling himself and was close to going under, but now he finds peace and happiness. But when I ask him if he regrets it, he responds: - I'd be happy with my life if I died tomorrow. STEFAN JOHANSSON NEXT ISSUE: YES - MISPLACED FOSSILS FROM THE SEVENTIES?