Metal Edge October 2003 A Reject Interviews Def Leppard All-American Reject Nick Wheeler Goes Face To Face With One Of His Favorite Bands At first listen, it might be easy to lump The All-American Rejects atop the pile of sugar-coated, power-pop acts dominating the charts as of late, but not so fast. While the Oklahoma quartet are characterized by every bit of seemingly superficial bounce that platinum-peers Good Charlotte, Sum 41 and Green Day have played unapologetically guilty to, more than a cursory listen displays a depth of songwriting character that few of their contemporaries can rival. In fact, after even a few spins through their self-titled Dreamworks Records debut, it becomes all too apparent that there's more to the band than just a few radio-ready jingles. Barely removed from their teenage years, The All-American Rejects transcend songwriting simplicity with orchestrations that are as rich as they are infectious, bringing to mind a bevy of influences including punk rock, glam rock, and a healthy dose of arena rock. To that end, when AAR guitarist Nick Wheeler pledged his allegiance to rock icons Def Leppard in his band's recent video "My Paper Heart," Metal Edge embraced the opportunity to turn the tables on Wheeler, letting him conduct an interview, rather than be the subject of one. Backstage in Tulsa, OK, Wheeler sat down with Def Leppard frontman Joe Elliot and guitarists Vivian Campbell and Phil Collin [sic]... Nick Wheeler: Pretty much everything I know about you guys I learned from digging through my sister's tape collection when I was about seven-years-old and found Hysteria. Was there any band that got you guys into music in the first place, and got you into what you do? Vivian Campbell: Actually, Joe and I were inspired by what was probably the same performance, T Rex on a show called Top Of The Pops in like '71. Growing up over there, everyone wanted to play soccer - football - so you had your football heroes, your little football shorts, and you're out there kicking the ball and along comes glam rock... You talk about your sister, when I saw Marc Bolan on Top Of The Pops, that's when I knew that's what I wanted to do for a living - Play guitar and wear my sister's clothing. Joe Elliott: [Laughing] I had to raid my mother's wardrobe! VC: I had a sister who was a year older than me, so she was a little bigger, and her clothes always fit... Snugly, but they fit. JE: The thing about British glam scene in like '71-'74, it was nothing at all attached to this L.A. glam rock scene in the late '80s - The Warrant, Ratt shit. It was Slade, T Rex, Ziggy Stardust/Bowie... There was rubbish, as well, but even within the rubbish there was a decent song now and again from like Suzi Quatro or somebody - She was like a leather-clad chick that played bass and screamed, and it was deemed pop music. Nowadays, it's no heavier than a Motley Crue record and it would be called heavy metal... Sweet was another one, like guitar based, three-minute songs that we all had access to because they were on the radio all the time, and appeared to be on Top Of The Pops every week. All that "Sweet Home Alabama" that maybe you were weaned on, or your older sister was, they never played that in England unless it was on a Saturday afternoon from like three to five, while you were at a soccer match. So we were always weaned on this commercial pop-rock, that was what we had. I'd always get annoyed when I'd read these articles with like The Red Hot Chili Peppers slagging us for what we do, but if they'd been born in Sheffield [England] or Belfast [Ireland], they wouldn't be making the sounds that they're making now, so it's just ignorance on their part. We were force-fed on that, but at least for every "Tie A Yellow Ribbon" that was getting played on Top 40, we had "Gene Genie" or "Get It On," then, of course, you cold veer off, because Viv grew up with like Rory Gallagher, because he was in Northern Island, and their local radio was playing all that stuff. Sheffield didn't have a local her, except for Joe Cocker, and he didn't put records out to get played on the radio, and he lived in America then, anyway, so we also had a mutual bonding with Thin Lizzy. They were not part of the glam rock scene, because even though they were around in '71, they had this one hit with a cover of "Whiskey In A Jar", then they disappeared for three years. They were a rock band that had hit singles, which is exactly where we thought we could fit in. Lizzy were a cool band - The press liked them, the kids liked them, they had album tracks, and they had hit singles. They weren't deemed as sell-outs to the rock fans, or too heavy for the pop fans, they were right in that middle slot, and it was perfect. They were a huge influence on Sweet Savage and Def Leppard. NW: That's good to hear, I love that band... Talking about music in general, I'm a complete music geek and taught lessons for like four years. I loved it so much, I wanted everyone else to love it. Did you guys have any schooling? VC: The short answer would be no! I had about a year of theory at school, that I could remember next to nothing of. Out of all of us, I'd say Savage [Rick, bassist] is the only one that could recognize a chord, the rest of us... JE: Just know it by memory... Rick [Allen] could read drum stuff, but he was taught properly, by Joe Cocker's drummer. VC: As a guitar player, I remember when I first came to the States, playing with Dio, I was doing interviews with guitar magazines and they were telling me about what "modes" I was playing in, and how you switch to "this mode..." And I still don't know! I'll take their word for it! JE: I think there's a lot more fun in not knowing what you're doing, because there's a lot more you can discover. I remember Elton John and Ian Hunter, from Mott The Hoople, both saying separately in interviews, that they kind of lost the plot when they figured out what the black notes did on a piano... They had nowhere left to discover, because they've been everywhere. VC: I wouldn't diss it, though, because there's a part of me that would love to know what it is I'm doing... JE: We just come up with a riff and backbeat for it, then start thinking about melodies, like most musicians do. Let's not forget that the whole essence of rock 'n' roll was to kind of kick against jazz - "I want to play onstage, but I can't play like Paganini," or whoever was like 400 years old. Then, all of a sudden Chuck Berry comes along and he only knows like three chords, and he can't play for shit, he only knows one thing [humming "Johnny Be Good"]... You could sing that over "Roll Over Beethoven." Musicians really didn't come into it until prog-rock. Everything was like The Kings, The Who... Study Pete Townshend, or Jimmy Page, and these guys weren't that good, but they got really good. They developed a style and that's really important. There came a point in like '84, that you couldn't tell the guitar players apart because they all wanted to sound like Eddie Van Halen. It was like that in the '60s, but they were more naive and had a charm about it. In the '80s, it all became Olympian and about how fast you could play, then you had Yngwie Malmsteen and it all fucking ended! NW: For my playing, I can't wail whatsoever, so I try and make up with it with alternate tunings and chord voicings, and all my geeeky shit, but Jesus, there's some killer solos on your records, and I was just wondering where some of that stuff came from! VC: I don't know! [Laughing] I really don't! As a guitarist, I find it really hard to replicate what I do in the studio, because I don't know what I'm doing! JE: That's inspiring because if you walk by the door when Vivian's doing a solo, you're like, "Wow, that fucking great!" VC: Just don't ask me to do it twice! JE: Yeah, try and do it again, but don't lose that take, just in case! A solo, like a vocal, can be a composite of five or six different attempts. Everyone did that - We were just watching the Beatles anthology, and they did that their entire career. VC: And of course it's easier now, with Pro Tools and all. NW: How have a lot of the tricks and tools developed for you guys? You can take a lot on the road with you, now... JE: We've moved along a lot. In the early days, we had a little one of these [picking up tape recorder[ and someone would play into it for like 30 seconds, and at the end of the tour, you go back and listen to it, and you've got like a hundred or so bits. Phil Collen: But when we're in tour mode, we really concentrate on the tour, which is a good thing. All day is based around the gig, then when we get off we have the six month writing period, then a year of recording. That's a little outdated now, like dinosaurs, because everything moves a lot quicker now. We'd love to get more done on the tour, but we've got to do it first - We've still got that mentality where you can wait between albums, and that's not the case anymore. There's that three year gap where people go, "Where have you been?" Well, we've been touring a year-and-a-half, then writing... I think we can compress it a little more, but it's still going to be two years. NW: In your case, you've established yourselves though, you've got like 10 records, you've got that liberty. With us, our record just came out, and people want another record already. JE: The whole industry has changed. We were discussing this a few weeks ago - The new Linkin Park record's come out, three years after the first album... Over that same period of time, when we were kids, Alice Cooper released five albums. Linkin Park obviously toured a lot more that Alice Cooper did, and further afield, and that takes longer to do. VC: The industry's changed, because Linkin Park, when you have a successful record, have the world market to play for - You go to Japan, you go to Europe, and you go to America and Canada, and all points in between. Then you become a prisoner of that success, because the label's got you out there and you want it to be more successful, and the incentive is to sell that record, not to make a new record, and then they tell you at the eleventh hour that they need new music and you don't have anything yet... PC: And they really don't give a shit about you. They really don't care. VC: And the attention span in radio, and with media and fans, is so much quicker. Your 15 minutes of fame is like 15 seconds - You've got to be right there and you've got to follow it up. Music isn't as important to people as it used to be. JE: No, it's not. We didn't have Nintendo to fight against, or Playstation 2. Nine out of ten kids in my neighborhood wanted a guitar for Christmas, or a drum kit, if it wasn't a bicycle. Now it's something else, and the drum kint or the guitar is really far down the list of priorities. Now, if people want to be musicians, they want to be like Moby, sitting behind a computer doing it all on their own and being a geek. They don't want to stand in the mirror with a tennis racket going, "I want to be a star." PC: The mystique really started to disappear when videos started, which was great for us, but now, you're starting to see the results of that taken even further. Everyone can do it now, and it's not worth as much, so people think, "You know what? This isn't the magical thing I thought it was." That's good in some respects, but then they're stopped by the industry, because they can only get so far without a label, and it's very cliquey. JE: How many albums did you sign for? NW: We were originally on an indie label, Doghouse, and they had us for three, and they sold us to Dreamworks and they tacked two on to that... JE: So you've got a five album deal? That's interesting, because we've been talking about how al these new bands coming through don't have the luxury of a three, four, five album deal like we had, where you're allowed to fuck off now and again! You're allowed to make a record, and there's something that used to be called Artist Development, where your first album wasn't supposed to sell, it was just supposed to lead up tot the one that made you go through the stratosphere. And that's exactly what happened to us! Recently, if your first album doesn't recoup, you don't make a second album, because you didn't make a profit, so fuck off! If you think about our second generation competition, you might want to call it - Live from the mid-'90s, Soul Asylum, Candlebox, where the fuck are they? I thought that Candlebox record wasn't a bad record, and they were on Madonna's record, and they were opening for Van Halen in front of 20,000 people a night. Then the second record came out, which is technically a better record, and they're headlining on their own and not playing in front of 20,000 every night, and the accountant at Madonna's label goes, "See ya..." How many bands from say '91 are still hanging in there and doing what a Beatles, or Zeppelin, or a Stones - or to a lesser extent, even us - did? Very few of them. Nobody really cares about Pearl Jam anymore - You don't see people making a big deal about Eddie Vedder anymore. Counting Crows have been around for ten years, but they're only having mild success, it's a different generation. Sav said something the other week - We're in our 40s, the Stones are in their 60s, and Aerosmith are in their 50s. If Aerosmith become the Stones, and we become Aerosmith, who the fuck becomes us? There's nobody there! Sugar Ray? They've pretty much disappeared! It's just a product. It's like putting out another version of Sprite - It's not like anyone gives a shit. It's so in your face when it comes out, everybody knows about your personalities when you first come out, because it's everywhere. There was a mystique back with Led Zeppelin, but there can't be that anymore. You have to reinvent yourself, but not everyone can be Cher or Madonna. PC: Because of the TV, because of that whole thing... Now you're a rock fan going, "Oh they're not cool any more..." Like Sugar Ray - They were like an alternative band, then they tried to jump on every bandwagon, and it's like a boy band thing, you can't push too far. JE: Once you've seen him hosting the 15th Best Ever Top 100 Videos Ever, you might as well see Connie Chung or Walter Cronkite doing it, because that's all they are. There's nothing to learn about this person anymore. PC: You lose respect for them as an artist. JE: It's really interesting that you've got a five album deal... As long as the record company is still there, and the people that believe in you are still working at that label when your third, fourth, and fifth album come out... That's what we're up against now - Never mind when we signer our deal in '79, there's nobody there from when we recorded Slang. Nobody. People there right now don't even know who we are, but we've got a 500-page contract, so they go, "Oh, another record from Def Leppard... Who are they again?" We're signed to your label, you twat. We paid for that desk you're working on, and that marble fucking floor that you eat your sushi off of at dinner time, I paid for! Not that we're bitter or anything, it's just an observation. [Laughing] We're beyond bitter, because it becomes humorous. Look at Prince... Prince was huge, and he had to go around with "Slave" tattooed on his head for three years to get his point across. NW: Going back to where we were before we got sidetracked, it really is hard to get things done on the road - Between interviews, sound checks, meet and greets, and it all centers around, for us, that 45 minutes that we get to play... What's a day like for you? JE: It's exactly the same as yours... PC: This morning I woke up and went to Starbucks, came back, took a crap... [Laughing] It's good being a tourist sometimes, if you're in the mood, but sometimes you're not, and it's different every day, but it's still about the show, and you can't go too far. NW: Is there anything you'd tell someone like myself, or a band just getting started? Any advice? JE: Yeah, learn to bite your tongue. PC: We actually love being on tour with each other - We've been doing it for 20 years. We started when we barely met, but now it's easier because we can get along. We got beyond everything early on, and that made it a pleasure. You discover each other's idiosyncrasies, you find them out early on... JE: They don't change, but they're a little less, and everyone knows when to back off and when to confront someone. When he jerks off into my coffee, I can just say, "Please don't do that anymore..." We've been on that road to discovery, and we're three-quarters of the way down it. We know enough about each other, where you can tell when they walk off the tour bus or get out of the bunk that there's a problem, and you don't bother them about it. You discover things as you go along, and as you achieve different levels of success, it affects people differently. But if you're all there at the same time, there isn't someone who feels left out because he was taking a shit when the manager told you that you went No. 1, and all of a sudden he thinks he's Ring and isn't as loved as the other three... If everybody's on the same level, it kind of helps, because if one of you starts floating off like a helium balloon, the other three can pull you back. But one of the best things about being in this band is that we can't totally just see each other. Phil and I have certain elements of our lives in common, like we go to the movies, and Vivian and I will discuss football, Sav and I will discuss something else, Sav and Rick will have a different conversation, and those little snippets or pockets that you want to tell someone will mean more to one person than they will the next. It's like a family, you just know. There's no need telling your dad you're in the mood for cherry pie if your mother is the cook in the house, he's too busy cleaning the garage... A good sense of humor - You've got to have a sense of humor to be in a band, that's for sure. Once you've reached that point where nothing shocks you anymore, you can just laugh at everything. People are always asking what advice we can give, but you can't really give advice - What's right for us might be wrong for someone else. The best advice I can give is, "Don't listen to my advice!" Go with your heart, until your heart doesn't know where it's going, then ask someone else... NW: Looking at the writing credits over the years, is there a way you prefer to write? Mutt Lange did a lot for a few years... JE: Pyromania, Hysteria and Adrenalize, he co-wrote every song but one on those three albums. He did some on High And Dry, but not as much. He was there for the other stuff, and he was like number six to us - He would take our riffs and be like, "Try that there..." He was the guy that we wanted to work with, and we didn't want to upset the apple cart - We were young, and we were still students. A band like Foreigner with four platinum albums, they've got an opinion. We wanted to learn from him, he did Back In Black for fuck's sake! If he made suggestions, we were young enough to want to learn from the guy. What's the point of working with someone if you can't learn from them? We don't mind who we work with, though. If Vivian is walking around the dressing room, and he's playing something that I've never heard, but I like, the first thing I'll say is, "What's that?" If he says it's just something he's doing, I'll say it's great... All of a sudden he gets excited because I'm excited, then we pursue it and it gets at least that far. If everyone thinks it's a cool riff, we know we'll work on it for the next record. PC: The funny thing is, usually if the first take goes well, it's better than any other version will be, that's the magical take. A lot of engineers don't get that. In the classic rock 'n' roll sense, it's great when you get that magic, and if you don't, you try and recreate it. JE: More often than not, a lot of the stuff we've done with Mutt wasn't in the first take, but he makes it sound like a first take. It's totally acting. You have to sound real, and that's all he wants from you. You have to get past the boredom factor to the point where it's in your DNA and it's natural. If you're singing, hopefully you've still got your voice at that point. It's like climbing a mountain, you can't appreciate it until you get to the top. NW: We were making this video for one of our songs, and the Director wanted me to wear a Clash t-shirt, but I found a Hysteria shirt and said, "This needs to be in the video..." The weird thing is, [Clash drummer] Joe Strummer died the next day. JE: Don't blame yourself! NW: It's funny, because in the last scene, the guy and girl breakup, and the things he got from the girl he chucked off a cliff - I told them that they needed to use a stunt t-shirt, because I was taking that one home! [Laughing] And, ironically it's the High And Dry tape was sitting on the dashboard of the car... So thanks for putting up with me! JE: It's a pleasure, because you come from a totally different angle. It's interesting, because Bon Jovi interviewed me for something on the Slang tour back in '96, but other than that, this is the first time we've had actual human contact with someone in a band who admits to liking us, and growing up listening to us. We went through the '90s being the Antichrist. Kurt Cobain, Alice In Chains, Soundgarden... If they could have lined us up and shot us, they would have. It's only now that music is becoming more uplifting, major key over minor key, happy choruses and hooks, and humor - There was always humor in everything we did. You listen to a band like Staind, and they're good, but it's like a needle in your arm sometimes. I just read something about them said, "More misery from the boys from Staind." More misery? What's there to be miserable about? They just got an eight million dollar check for their last album, what is there to be miserable about? They've paid their mortgages, they paid for the cars. Even if you're miserable to begin with, that's got to cheer you up a bit! VC: Unfortunately, Def Leppard get lumped into that whole '80s hair band thing, as heavy metal. Def Leppard aren't a hair band or a metal band. Guilty of a few bad mullets, maybe, so was Bono! Ripped jeans? Everyone was guilty of fashion fopas [sic] in the '80s, but that's the only thing you can really pin on Def Leppard, after being associated all that shit music that came from that era. Finally, the band is getting respect because we never quit, we never went away, and we actually made music and went through the '90s and came out on the topside. On top of that, we don't suck, we're actually really good! We do what we do very, very well. JE: And it's really gelling well on this tour. We don't count wrong chords. We have never had post-gig discussions, "Look, you're fucking up too often." If a mistake is discussed, it's in the shower with tons of laughter - "Was that you that played that bum note in 'Rocket'? Fuck that was a good one!" Nobody cares! PC: By the time we get on tour, it's a payoff for all that hard work, and that's how we treat it. It's fun, and it's supposed to be. You're supposed to laugh, you're supposed to fuck things up, because it's fun. NW: I just thank God that bands like you and Bon Jovi, bands that play in major keys and obviously enjoy what they're doing and aren't making kids cry. JE: We're escapism - Come see us for two hours and forget you have a mortgage, or that your wife just left you, or that you hate your boss. That's what rock 'n' roll is supposed to be, escapism. That doesn't mean that we're not intelligent, we've probably got more brains than most of the bands that pretend they're intelligent. We make music to entertain, not to educate, they've gone straight over people's heads - "Rock Of Ages," "Photograph," and "Let's Get Rocked" are going to get remembered before "Desert Song" or "Where Does Love Go When It Dies," which are intelligent lyrics.