Ever since anyone can remember, Irish rock journalist and broadcaster Dave Fanning has been the first person to air the first single from a new U2 album.
Dave has been friends with the band since their earliest days even though, when he first saw them play, ‘there were 5 or 6 other bands that I much preferred’. But, he recalls, ‘they had a belief in their own ability that none of the other crowd had.’
With the publication of his memoir, ‘The Thing Is…’ we tracked Dave down to ask him about the waning power of the DJ, how music has changed and some of his most memorable interviews.
Congratulations on your autobiography! Are you glad you wrote it?
I really am! Originally, I was thinking, “This is stupid. Does the world really need a book about Dave Fanning, written by Dave Fanning?” But I realised there are those who grew up in Ireland in the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s who will relate to it.
But it goes wider than that. Not only did you have a ring-side seat and access to the great artists of those decades, but you played a significant part within popular culture, starting with pirate radio…
I was the biggest fish in a small pond, and that’s why I got so much of what I got. Not because I was good, or bad, but because I was ‘Ireland’ to the PR people. I could offer print, radio and TV. Robbie Williams gave half an hour to each country, and I got the half-hour here because I was able to offer all three. Don’t make me into Sir Dave Fanning. It’s just what I did.
But you were able to do something with it when you got it. You helped to introduce new bands to their audience, including U2…
No question, yes. But the world was different, then.
The power of a DJ like John Peel has completely diminished these days. If you want to find something new, you can do it instantly. You don’t need anyone guiding you through.
I think a lot has been lost. Most bands don’t get time to develop. It was only when U2 got to Unforgettable Fire - album 4! - that they really started moving, but it was to get to that point that was important, because then you get the breakthrough: suddenly it becomes The Joshua Tree.
That sort of thing doesn’t really happen any more, which I find sad. It’s all so ephemeral.
Did you ever have to play music from a play-list?
Never once in my entire life did that happen. Never. We were always meant to be the experts and we were left alone to do it.
How important does music remain within popular culture?
Good question. I do think it’s diminished… Once, if I saw someone carrying a record bag, I had to know what was in the bag, and would instantly decide on what sort of person they were! They were either an idiot or really cool…
Getting your hands on music was so difficult. Even listening to music. BBC Radio 1’s ‘Sounds of the Seventies’ was so important; even more essential than Peel. And I’d listen to the live gig between half 6pm and 7.30, even if the band was boring.
Today there are 40 channels playing music all the time, and if you go into your local supermarket, there’s a TV playing a video of the latest Black Eyed Peas cover band. Jesus Christ! What’s it become? There’s no listening to Radio Luxembourg under the covers any more, waiting to see what they’re going to play next.
Maybe I’m just too old…
Are today’s kids the Generation X-Factor?!
I’m stunned at the number of people who watch X Factor. It’s such glue for the family. Every age group, even hardened rockers… I just don’t get it.
You have Louis, who I like a lot, being pathetic every week. And then you have Simon Cowell saying, “You’re what this show’s all about.” No it’s not. It’s all about you, Simon…
These idiots have hijacked everything that was dear to me: the pop charts. And yet the amount of pleasure people get out of X Factor! So who am I, but an old fogey with my slippers and rocking chair and my Bovril?
What, for you, makes a great interview?
I’m not sure. Sometimes, you just know. The other day I interviewed Ron Wood and it didn’t work. But usually, the bigger the star, the better the interview. They have more to say, they understand the game, and they perk up if they realise you’re not just asking the normal series of questions.
Do you get star struck?
My interview with Joni Mitchell was the biggest one of all for me, because she came into the studio. I realised then that I was a little bit star-struck. For me, she was the greatest thing in the 1970s and to have her come in to do her first interview in six years – I still have no idea why she agreed to do it, to this day.
But there is always something bigger than the star: you’re consumed with having to get it right. Once I went all the way to Cincinnati to interview Peter Frampton, then straight to LA for Fleetwood Mac. It just has to work in those circumstances. And making it work is always bigger than the person I’m sitting in front of.
I usually get a bit bolder towards the end. That’s why I was so annoyed with Lou Reed. He stopped the interview 20 minutes before the end and I would love to have gone elsewhere with him.
U2 weren’t stars when you first met them - and you didn’t see much in them that suggested they would be. Is that right?
Yes. There were 5 or 6 other bands that I much preferred. U2 were trying to do something new that sounded different. And in 1978, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. The Undertones were based on decent pop music; the Rats were stealing from the Stones, and a thousand people were making short, sharp aggressive pop music. U2’s music was ethereal, up in the clouds. And it was like, “Jesus! Who do they think they are?”
It’s easier for someone like Jack White or Jimmy Page to look cool because their coolness is built on the blues, from something in the past. Edge, meanwhile, was trying to bring music into the future; and that’s a much more difficult thing to try and sell.
First part of the interview published in U2.com
www.u2.com
