U2, The Byrds, Cher, Ringo Starr, Frank Black, Fiona Apple, Ry Cooder, Joanna Newsom, The Everly Brothers . . . Is there anyone Van Dyke Parks hasn't worked with? He talks to SIOBHÁN KANE
You come from a musical family; your father in particular seemed very inspiring
He was the chief examining psychiatric officer at the liberation of Dachau, and, later on, integrated the first southern hospital in the United States. He was a man of quiet ability. He had a dance band in the ’30s to get through medical school, Parks and the White Swan Serenaders. I wrote him a song called Come to the Sunshine, which was my first single.
Your first record, Song Cycle, has a cycle of its own: it has been embraced by a new generation, with bands such as Grizzly Bear referencing it. Through it you drew out the darker sound of the swinging ’60s
It is the ultimate project of great tribulation: the death of my brother, the Vietnam war, the racial strife. I didn’t participate in the forced jollity of the psychedelic era, and worked so hard to learn how to make a record – and made mistakes – but I wanted it to be beautiful, even if it had a bitter quality.
You worked with The Beach Boys on Smile. Mike Love seemed quite bitter about the experience – yet you enjoyed such kinship with Brian Wilson
I thought Brian was very courageous to do what he did with Smile. Of course, I was disappointed that it wasn’t just another fast car song with a loose woman in the back seat [laughs], but it turns out that wasn’t what he wanted to write, or what I wanted to think about! I was in trouble for it, though, because everyone had the idea I was working for The Beach Boys, but I thought I was working for Brian Wilson. Now I hear The Beach Boys are finally putting out the original recordings, and I am to meet with the engineer, which is ironic, because I was kicked out the door and slandered, and I have lived with that failure, but now it looks like Mike Love is learning to eat crow.
Your work has taken in so many influences, from Delta blues to classical music, with authenticity the only criterion
What do I need a pale facsimile of American music to thrill me for? I like regional music that has held its ground. I was so honoured to be included in that Paddy Moloney project with Ry Cooder, and my favourite guitarist is Martin Carthy in England, who is without peer – they hold the line, when everything else is homogenised.
The earth moved when I heard Les Paul in 1953. I was mystified and mesmerised by recorded music, so it doesn’t surprise me that I have spent my life huddled in a studio doing jobs no one else seems interested in doing.
But through that you have become a patron of sorts for other musicians
My standards are higher than my ability. My work comes through due diligence. I spend seven to 10 days on every arrangement I do – I think about it when I am washing dishes. My mother once said to me, “Van Dyke, we always thought it was marvellous how you put your retirement in front of your career.” I have been kicked from one door to another, but I have found a way to serve in music, and I am so grateful.
You modestly talk of being ‘behind the curtain’, but you are part of some of the greatest work in musical history and you never stop working
This is all an effort to exalt the potential of the human spirit. I have no other choice. I pity people who have suffered from great success. One of my liberating forces is that I have never been fashionable, and can take risks. I feel sorry for people like Mick Jagger who makes a living prancing around stage – it is rather unseemly. There is a great story about when he met the trumpeter George Melly at a party. George said, ‘How old are you?’ He replied that he was 32, and George said, “Well I’m twice your age and have half the wrinkles.” Mick goes, “Yes, but they are laughter lines.” Melly shoots back, “My dear boy, nothing’s that funny.”
Things have changed so much from the music industry you came up in, but your fearlessness has not
You will never get anywhere grand unless you take the risks of heroism, and I would like to find a way to at least exist in an age of heroism.
* Van Dyke Parks plays Dublin’s Button Factory on Sunday
