Guitar master Robin Trower makes a show of learning
From "Sign On San Diego" Interview - 1999
By James Healy
STAFF WRITER
Four decades as a rock guitarist have left Robin Trower, Mr. Bridge of Sighs, with little to fret about. Aside from the loss of his vintage-guitar collection, which vanished in the 1970s ("an inside job," he says), and some albums he wishes had never materialized, the British guitarist looks back over the
ages and practically shrugs. "I like to think about the future
more," he says by phone after arriving stateside for a national tour.
Trower, who confesses an aversion to practicing and says he's "not a very practical person," won't even venture a guess as to how many solo albums he's released since his 1972 departure from Procol Harum, which he'd joined as
guitarist in 1967. "I honestly don't know how many. Too many, actually. There's a few in there that I wish I hadn't made, I can tell you that -- a couple in the '80s that I wish
would disappear off the face of the Earth."
The guitarist, whose 1974 album "Bridge of Sighs"
evoked a gush of comparisons to Jimi Hendrix (a primary influence to this day, he admits), continues to hone his skills in a Holy Grail-like pursuit.
"You're always learning about your instrument. It's a never-ending task, really. I'm just trying to move forward. Like the blues album (1997's "Someday Blues"), which was a real
challenge. I feel like I progressed a long way to get that stuff right.
"I'm always trying to come up with something that tickles me, anyway."
A recent challenge for Trower, who until "Someday Blues" was vocally silent, has been learning to simultaneously play guitar and sing.
It was longtime bass player James Dewar who sang on classics like "Lady Love," "Too Rolling Stoned" and "Messin' the Blues." Although he and Dewar were to reunite in 1983, Trower said collaboration is no longer possible. "I'm afraid Jimmy had a stroke some years back. It's a great shame, a great loss to the music world." Singing, he says, "is a whole new thing I've had to learn. But I'm now a bit more
comfortable with it. Starting so late in life, it's quite a trick to
pull it off."
ITs also added a dimension to his live performance, which
Trower says is the mainstay of his musical career.
(Look for
"This Was Now," a double
live disc on V-12 Records, in
the near future, Trower says;
one disc is from a 1974
concert, the other from last
year's tour.)
"I want to keep up on the instrument, and performing live
is the best way, because I'm not a practicing player. I can't sit and practice at home -- I find that very difficult. And it must be because I'm lazy, fundamentally, that way.
"But you're inspired in front of an audience, you've got to get on with it and there's no prevarication about it."
Back to basics Procol Harum aside, Trower almost always has played in a trio -- including a 1980s stint in BLT, which featured Jack Bruce, himself an alumnus of prototype
power trio Cream, on bass. Trower says he enjoys the challenge offered by a trio's somewhat tenuous framework. "With a three-piece, you're on the edge the whole time of it
working and not working. Because, really, with a three-piece there is a guy missing."
Once spellbound by technology, Trower prefers a simpler approach today. "I use pretty much the same pedal setup as I did then. But I had a period through the middle '70s where I was really into effects, on albums like 'In City Dreams'
and 'Caravan to Midnight.' I was trying to synthesize the guitar sound into something else, basically. But I fell out of favor with that and decided to go more back to the basic guitar sound." By no means does Trower shun the modern tools or toys of his trade. But he's careful with their use.
"I tend to like the sound more of the old- fashioned stuff, tape and tubes. It's more musical sounding. It's possible to use technology, even the most modern, as long as you keep in mind what the possibilities are, and what you're trying
to get out of the sound. I prefer a mixture of the two."
The guitarist, whose smoldering, occasionally mystical, blues-tinged rock was a staple of FM radio's "progressive rock" era
of the mid- '70s, laments the airwaves' now-distorted mission.
"I get the impression it's not so important, artistically. It just turns into something to sell product. It's all about the advertising people, isn't it? Whereas I remember in the late '60s and around that period, a big part of what they were
doing was just putting on music that they really believed in. I don't think it's such a cultural development thing as it used to be.