'I don't like to pick up the guitar and play the stuff that I've already played on the many albums I've done,' declares Todd Rundgren with a grin. 'When I pick up the guitar, I want it to be something of a challenge.'
It's true -- Rundgren's 18th solo effort. Liars, his first album of all-new material in 10 years, isn't exactly what you'd call awash with guitar. Still, for all the intricate, life-affirming electronica on tracks such as Truth, there's still enough six-string magic here to satisfy the legions of fans who've admired Rundgren's emotive way with the instrument ever since he came to prominence with cult psych- pop outfit The Nazz back in the late '60s -- like the Eastern-flavoured middle eight on the title track, the sassy white soul workout on Sweet, and the bowel- loosening guitar growl of Mammon.
Todd Rundgren attained true guitar hero status back in the '70s with his groundbreaking psychedelic album A Wizard/A True Star ('73), plus his contributions to The Tubes and prog rockers Utopia. Then he simply walked away from the whole idea. For the past few decades he has spent his time producing and engineering a whole raft of artists, including Grand Funk Railroad, XTC (Skylarking) and Badfinger -- and he was also at the controls for Meatloaf's uber-selling Bat Out Of Hell. As an artist, Rundgren has continued to embrace new mediums. He was heavily involved in video technology in the '80s, and went on to release the world's first interactive music CD-ROM in '92, New World Order, as well as the first interactive enhanced CD, two years later.
Well, as far as performing live goes, guitar is always my first instrument,' Rundgren allows. But for recording, in terms of figuring out what it is I want to do, the actual studio is my instrument. In some cases, unless I've a conscious desire to do some guitar-based songs, I can find myself at the end of a record without having played that much guitar.'
So is the whole guitar hero thing still an anathema to you?
'Well, there was a time when I considered myself to be proficient on the instrument,' replies Rundgren, with a bemused weariness in his gentle drawl that suggests that he's talking about a world he long ago ceased to inhabit. 'I suppose I've not lost a lot of technique, but at a certain point I decided that finesse was a more important way to approach the instrument, rather than becoming faster than Eddie Van Halen or playing as many notes as Al Di Meola.
'At a certain stage, I decided to choose my moments and to become more unconventional. However, I still enjoying stretching out on guitar, but that's usually in a live context, being inspired by the other musicians I'm playing with. I imagine that anyone who hears me play off-the-cuff can't mistake it for anyone else but me,' he adds, and my influences -- like Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and a whole slew of early rock and blues guitarists -- well, it's hard to break out of that.
'Eddie Van Halen at least performed a service by making people look at the instrument differently. At that point everyone seemed they were going to fall into one of two classes: either they were going to be a Ritchie Blackmore heavy metal guitar player, or a John McLaughlin/Carlos Santana quasi-jazz musician. Eddie Van Halen brought unfamiliar techniques, which everybody then learned and beat to death.
'The influences I picked up in the '60s were completely valid all the way through the '70s; and then, in the '80s, the guitar fell into the shadows and was replaced by a flock of numbskulls -- it was all synthesisers. It wasn't until Kurt Cobain came back with what essentially was Louie Louie that things almost went back to the beginning.'
Rundgren believes that one of the ways of remaining inventive is to always be open to influences from any source. At complete odds with his album's title, he's very happy to admit where his ideas comes from. So when the goth guitar tones of Mammon are raised for discussion, Rundgren smiles in a way that borders on the patronising.
'It's obviously a homage to Sisters Of Mercy in terms of its textures,' he points out. 'It has something of this -- well, I wouldn't call it "heavy metal" because they were going for something more grand, more pomp-rock in a way -- but a much darker theme to it.
'Everyone believes that an element of rock is the "bad boy", whereas Sisters Of Mercy think one of the essential elements of rock is a very evil boy, so they convey more than just being dangerous. I thought it would be perfect for a song about philistines. It's not a lot of playing -- just two licks, really, but the way the guitar comes in a screaming, menacing way provides the necessary kind of intimidation.'
In direct contrast, the guitars on the lighter, more polished Living put you in mind of a Muff Winwood/Mutt Lange style of production. 'Yeah, it was pretty anally constructed,' laughs Rundgren. In fact, there's a few different guitars on there with completely different sounds. One's very clear-sounding with a very clear high end to it, and then you just compress the crap out of it and get something very twinkly and sustainy that's great for little melody lines.
'Then there's the "chunkers" -- that industry-standard "kerchunking" noise that guitars do in the background. Even that was a loop sample,' he admits. 'I just couldn't see the point of playing it over and over -- - it's just a real handcramper in the style of Metallica.
'And then there's a lead instrument that principally comes at the breakdown in the middle. Its main role is to accentuate the melody line ' in an arpeggiated way, and it hopefully makes the song a little more exciting in the fade-out by answering the vocal lines. As I said, it's all a pretty anal kind of production.'
No doubt it was the producer' side of Todd Rundgren that decided that his friend, guitarist Ken Emerson, was the best choice for playing slide guitar on Happy Anniversary -- and Emerson nailed it on his second take. Yet while this kind of spot-on decision-making has made him a sought-after studio boffin, Rundgren reveals that his knowledge of what works -- and why -- has at times been a real hindrance to him as an artist. He claims that during the recording of Something/Anything in the early '70s he 'cracked' certain songwriting and production short-cuts, a breakthrough that allowed him to write songs that he knew would capture an audience in less than half an hour.
'What I achieved back then is what most artists are striving to accomplish,' he states without a hint of pride in his voice, 'which is to be recognisable, to find a formula that allows them to be able to have a tap that they can turn on when it's time to write material.
'A lot of audiences like that -- almost like a favourite recipe they don't want changed. Maybe if they have enough respect for the chef they'll try out something new -- maybe they'll like it, maybe they won't.
'But on Something/Anything I started to realise that things like certain changes -- such as major/minor sevenths in certain relationships -- would always work. Afterwards I had to live with the album and its success, and I started having misgivings. I know this sounds stupid, but I wasn't comfortable with being in any kind of a rut.
'So when it came time to record A Wizard/A True Star I decided not only to throw the rules I'd just discovered out the window, but also any rules or patterns I'd ever followed, just to see if it was possible. I always believe that if the music is exciting for you to make, it'll also be exciting for at least some people out there to listen to.'
Rundgren signs off by telling Guitar how he recently went with his 12-year-old son to purchase the youngster's first electric guitar -- something that he hasn't really touched since he bought it. His dad isn't bothered; he knows the importance of self-motivation when it comes to learning how to play. 'My wife talked to me about giving him guitar lessons, but he isn't yet at the first phase where you take guitar playing seriously -- which is having your hands hurt so bad you start to wonder whether it's the instrument for you.
'There's a big difference between thinking you're going to be a guitar player and thinking guitar playing is cool, and actually having that thing which gets you over the initial hump,' he declares. 'Anyone who became a great guitar player didn't start with a book or lessons -- they stayed in their room trying to figure out Smoke on the Water or something, just playing it over and over until their hands stopped hurting. If you can get past that, then congratulations. You can call yourself a guitar player.'
Liars is out now on Sanctuary. The Todd Rundgren Collectors' Deluxe Edition DVD box set is out 3rd May on BMG