1988 LA Times Interview

The Growing Up of Mr. Mellencamp
February 28, 1988

by Robert Hilburn

John Cougar Mellencamp isn't putting up any "adults only" signs at his concerts, but the 36-year-old singer-songwriter says he would feel uncomfortable these days playing to just teen-agers.

Those words might have been commercial suicide in the '50s and '60s when rock performers depended almost exclusively on eager, teen-age fans.

Teens still buy a third of all records, according to industry estimates, but rock demographics have widened enough in recent years for artists like Mellencamp to sell millions of albums with material aimed primarily at adults. His 1985 "Scarecrow" album has sold nearly 3 million copies and last year's "The Lonesome Jubilee" has just passed the 2 million mark.

The fear in the early '70s, as members of rock's first generation moved into their 30s, was that their original passion for raw, challenging music would give way to a preference for the toothless and polite approach exemplified by acts like Chicago and Loggins & Messina.

The reality in the graying of rock over the last two decades, however, is that the shift in demographics hasn't led to the softening of basic rock 'n' roll attitudes.

While much of the older rock audience did eventually spill over into a less challenging area, there is a considerable body of post-collegiate fans who respond to music that applies the independence and questioning of traditional rock to themes that cover a far wider sociological and psychological canvas than was possible during the music's youth-conscious beginnings.

Mellencamp and the other veteran artists who address these themes--among them Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, Don Henley, Peter Gabriel, Sting, Robbie Robertson, Paul Simon, Tom Petty and Pete Townshend--still attract younger listeners, but they seem primarily concerned with addressing their own age group.

Mellencamp--who opens a three-day stand tonight at the Los Angeles Sports Arena--has benefited greatly from this adult rock. He seemed to have found his own artistic voice in what has been described as "heartland rock" (because of the farm-belt imagery in the "Scarecrow" songs and his Midwestern roots), but it really is a sort of examination of his own generation.

"There was a time around 1980 when I started thinking 'I'm too old to do this,' " Mellencamp said, sitting in a secluded house on the outskirts of town that he has converted into a recording studio. "I was even thinking about quitting. I didn't seem very good at this and I didn't feel I had anything particularly interesting to say.

"But I began to think about things that meant something to me. . . . Things about my generation and my friends and what had become of all the dreams and the promises we had made to ourselves in the '60s."

Mellencamp had those thoughts in mind in 1983 when he wrote "Pink Houses." When he played the song for his teen-age daughter, however, she had no idea what it meant, he recalled.

"But I later played it for (a schoolteacher friend) who did understand it and liked it very much," Mellencamp continued. "So, I began to think, 'Who in the hell am I trying to kid here? Why would I ever even want to pretend to relate to a 13-year-old?'

"I'm glad teen-agers do come to the shows and buy the records, but the reality is I'd much rather relate to some people between 25 and 45. . . . I don't know how the Stones and the Who stood it a few years ago . . . playing to crowds that were (predominantly) teen-agers. In a strange way, it must have been kind of humiliating."

Who would have guessed a decade ago that Mellencamp would emerge as one of the most thoughtful and persuasive commentators in rock? At the time, arrogant , obnoxious and derivative were the words most often applied to him by critics and other industry observers.

Even after he broke into the Top 10 in 1981 with hits like "Jack and Diane" and "Hurts So Bad," he was often dismissed as shallow and contrived. His turnaround began with "Pink Houses," a bittersweet song about the gap between the American Dream and millions of Americans.

If it took Mellencamp a long time to hone his vision (he was 31 when he wrote "Pink Houses"), he quickly sensed that he had found something of importance in his music and expanded on the theme in his subsequent works.

In "The Real Life," a pivotal song from the "Lonesome Jubilee" album, Mellencamp outlines what he sees as a contemporary malaise: a lack of purpose. The song tells, in part, about a man who questions himself at age 43:

He said, "My whole life I've done what I'm supposed to do.

"Now I'd like to maybe do something for myself

"And as soon as I figure out what that is

"You can bet your life I'm gonna give it hell."

During an interview in the "social room" at the recording studio, Mellencamp spoke about the song and the album.

"Every song on the album came out of table talking," he said, leaning back on a sofa while relaxing with drummer Kenny Aronoff. "Anybody who knows me knows that you can come over just about any night of the week and there will be four or five people sitting around the kitchen table, drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and talking about all sorts of things.

"Take 'The Real Life.' It was just another night at the table. Jackson Jackson (a character in the song) is a real person, though that's not his name. He said to me one night, 'I'm 40-something years old and divorced and, hell, I haven't done one thing with my life that I really wanted to do when I was young and strong and a world shaker.' But when I asked him what it was he wanted to do now, he looked at me and said, 'I don't know.'

"I think that is a very common thing among people who aren't very directed and I don't think 98% of the world is very directed. We can leave right now and go to any establishment in town where people are working and we are going to hear the same story. . . . They hate their boss or their job, or they wish they were doing something else.

"To me, there is something very disillusioning and alarming about that. That's not the way it was supposed to be when we were growing up. This was going to be a new age, a world where we all did what we wanted to do."

Why did you want to speak about that in the album?

The album is about a generation whose dreams haven't come true, but that shouldn't mean the end of something. It may sound silly because it is so obvious, but the only thing we have to look forward to is the future. We can waste our time by saying "Damn it, I should have done this or I should have done that," but it's all a shallow exercise unless you do more. To me, rock 'n' roll was always about tonight . . . have a good time. But it was also about tomorrow . . . the idea of doing something with your life.

You've spoken of the importance of rock 'n' roll as a "ceremony."

That's where my strength comes on stage. I believe that rock 'n' roll--whether it be some garage band going pa-boom, pa - boo m or a sophisticated musical act--is a way that the audience and performers (energize) themselves.

People my age grew up in an era when rock 'n' roll was the most important thing in their lives. I'm talking about the people who believed in rock 'n' roll, who believed John Lennon when he talked about a revolution, who believed that a better world was possible. When you see a really great rock show, you feel that strength again.

What about those who have already written off the idealism of the '60s?

I agreed with that for a long time, but as time goes on, I realize that was a hasty decision. I think the future is bright. I have faith that these people will make a difference. I realize I'm a little left of center, but I think there are a lot of people who think the same way I do, people who say, "Screw the Statue of Liberty celebration, take that money and put it to good use." I'll be interested to see what happens when people my age start becoming President and take over the Senate.

You seem to enjoy the role of being a rock provocateur. There was an obvious message in using an interracial couple in the "Cherry Bomb" video.

When I noticed some people were upset about it, I would tell them all I asked for was two dancers and they sent a black one and a white one. Then I would ask sarcastically, 'What was I supposed to do, fire the black kid?' But, sure, I did it intentionally. I can't believe there are still so many bigots in this country who get upset over something like that.

What kinds of things upset you about rock 'n' roll these days?

Corporate sponsorship and turning songs into commercials. The band and I were sitting down the other day trying to figure out some old songs to put into a medley in the show and almost every song we thought of has been turned into a TV commercial. The most disgusting thing is those dancing raisins--no, maybe 'Revolution.' I almost got a gun and shot my TV when I saw that.

Do you see a time when you will tire of the "rock ceremony," when you won't want to tour?

To be real honest, the candle is already burning real dim on touring. I enjoy the shows, but I hate having to leave home and a lot of the other things associated with touring. At the same time, this is probably the most fun for me because it is the most rewarding. I can see all those years of work paying off for me. I feel real confident. . . . But, sure, it'll have to come to an end.

Does that prospect make you feel sad?

No, I'm a realist. I see it happens to everybody. I saw John Lennon walk off stage and very rarely come back to it. I've seen Bob Dylan walk off stage numerous times and be gone for years. I've never been real caught up in terms like fame and other (show-biz) fantasies.

If you believe in fantasies, you believe in limos and the Grammys and all the junk that goes with it. Let's face it, we're talking about making records and doing shows, which is a job. As much as I like to believe that "The Lonesome Jubilee" is a real artful piece of work, the bottom line is, it's just another record. As much as I believe in the importance of rock 'n' roll, I've got to keep a perspective on my own role.

I just try to live out the legacy on stage, but I know there were people before me who have done it better and there will be people after me who will do it better. For the moment, however, there is me and six or seven other guys who help keep that thing alive.