Interview Derek
Parrott (yes, that’s his real name) was born in north London on November
23rd, 1947. He was brought up in the fifties in a typical middle-class English
suburb. He got his grammar school education, took a year of advanced level in
French, English literature and Art. Then everything changed. He left school ("It
prepares you in that most of life is doing what you don’t want to do"),
his father died, and he wanted to become an airline steward. Instead, he wound
up in a three-piece suit working at London Transport (buses, trains, etc.) doing
traffic auditing. "And
then," says Derek, "I realized I’d been duped by the adults. The
outside world was another schoolroom. I’d been fooled." When
a friend from school, who played in a rock ‘n roll band The Syn, lost his
driver’s license and the boys were suddenly immobilized, they tapped Derek
as their driver. The Syn was one of the better undiscovered groups of the day.
Their bass guitarist was Chris Squire and lead guitarist Pete Banks, who later
both left to form the band "Yes." Derek soon left his job tallying commuters
to be road manager of The Syn (‘67-‘68 ). He
traces the beginning of his own musical career to 1970 and the beaches of Morocco,
where he had gone to "find himself". "In
fact, it was Donovan who suggested that I go to Morocco," he recalls. "I
was gonna go down to Cornwall, on the west coast of England, to find myself, and
Donovan said, ‘Well, if you’re gonna do it, then really do it!’
And that was the making of me." He
wasn’t the only one trying to sort things out in those days. "There
were a lot of Americans over in Morocco. A lot of men who’d come back from
Vietnam just sittin’ there starin’ at the ocean, tryin’ to make
sense of what had happened." In
Morocco he lived under a car cover stretched between two trees. "I had all
my clothes stolen the first night I got there. Everything. But they didn’t
take my guitar. Took my glasses, but they’ve got stalls over there that sell
glasses, false teeth, all sorts of things." Fate
had left him alone, in a strange place, with nothing but a guitar to call his
own. And then, he says, "Poems sort of started coming through me." To
eat, he sang. He was the entertainment on the beach, and the songs came straight
off the top of his head. When
he returned to England a few months later he kept up the songwriting and started
playing clubs, bars and restaurants. In 1973 he recorded one of his songs called
"Motorbike Annie" with a producer-friend’s band which was released
as a single. It came close and got a few plays on the BBC, and though it never
took off, he’d had a taste of recording. Then
in 1977 came his "songwriter’s dream" the chance to make an album.
"It was a big one," he says, "with all the best session guys around,
even Huey Lewis on harmonica and the London Symphony Orchestra." Then two
weeks before it was due to be released the distributors were changed and it wasn’t
released. The door that was opening had closed. Disillusioned,
Derek set out on other voyages of discovery. He went to Findhorn, the alternative
community in Scotland. "I just wanted to see what was goin’ on; I had
some amazing experiences there." He then visited the Association for Research
and Enlightenment in Virginia Beach, Virginia, home of the readings of Edgar Cayce.
There he
played wine-and-cheese parties for conventions and weekly lectures on every esoteric
subject under the sun. "People came from all over---Egypt, Atlantis (laughs)
---and at Friday night parties you could tell how good the week had been by how
loose they got at the wine-and-cheese! I’d play my songs and that was fun.
That’s where I met my wife, Jeanie, who was working as a massage therapist
there." Jeanie
was born in Everett and raised in Mukilteo. They were married in Virginia Beach
in 1981 and in 1986 they moved to the Northwest with their two-year-old daughter
Kathryn Rose. After that, says Derek, the story’s pretty familiar: "You
get here and look around and say, ‘Can’t beat this, can ya? This is
it.’ So I started mowing lawns and it’s moved on from there." His
lawn care business was gaining, he was writing new material, and he was performing
occasionally at local spots. It took a while to get back to recording. "I
get pregnant with songs every three years or so," Derek explains, "and
then I have to put ‘em down. I
wanted to give a concert just with voice and guitar, which I did last year here
in town. About 250 people showed up; it was magic." The concert was recorded
and is still available as Derek Isn’t Dead. "They were
all my own songs. That’s the important thing --- I wanted to play my own
stuff." Last
year, Derek felt ready to take the next step --- to do the album he’s always
wanted to do --- a first class studio work with great back-up talent. Island
Independent: The occasion is the imminent release of your CD, My Back Yard.
You were greatly inspired by rock ‘n roll figures and managed to get close
to quite a few of them. How did a "shy one" like yourself manage it? Derek
Parrott: It started with Brenda Lee, actually. I didn’t understand why I
couldn’t meet the pop stars that I liked. I had this naive idea that I could
go up to them and say, "Hello, I like you." I had this real need to
do that, and I was able to, and that taught me a lot --- that if you really want
to do something you can. People tell you that you can’t meet these stars,
they’re guarded 24 hours a day. But I thought, they’re there (points
to the ground a few feet away) and I’m here (points to himself). So it started
with Brenda Lee and went through The Crickets, Peter, Paul and Mary to Bob Dylan
and then Donovan and the Beatles and all of that stuff happening. Island
Independent: You spent time with Dylan during his ‘65 tour of England;
what were your impressions of him at that time? And after you met him, was he
as much of an inspiration as he had been before? Derek
Parrott: More so, because he was very real to me. He was very real. If you read
what the press said about him, he was this angry sarcastic guy, and that’s
just what he was for the press. That was the game. Because the press were just
so.....dumb about him. Just watch Don’t Look Back. But I had this really
innocent relationship with him y’know. "I like you, how many guitars
do you have?", stuff like that. I was no threat, he could take his guard
down, no games. So he put up with me. I’d first met him the previous year,
‘64 when I discovered a fundamental secret of life. I went to the Mayfair
Hotel (he was staying at the Mayfair in London), and I wore jeans and a sweater
and they wouldn’t let me in. The very next day I wore a suit, and the same
guy who wouldn’t let me in the day before said, "Can I get you a taxi,
sir?" So that taught me, at that age, something really profound... Island
Independent: Clothes make the man? Derek
Parrott: Yeah. That’s part of the game. It’s still
the game now. In fact, I respect people who are "anti," who stand up
to be counted. If you stand up to be counted, you’re gonna be shot down.
I see myself more as a sleeper in political terms. You get away with murder! In
fact that’s being British --- the British do exactly what Americans do, they
just donšt talk about it! Island
Independent: How did you come to meet the Beatles? Derek
Parrott: Through my friendship with Donovan. Dylan had written
me a poem earlier that year and I showed it to them knowing they'd be really interested
because they’d just met him --- the legend of the hotel room. So they were
quite intrigued by the poem ‘cuz they were just as much Dylan fans as I was
in those days. Island
Independent: All of your songs seem to have a deeper meaning to them. What
are you trying to say? Derek
Parrott: Yeah. Some people might think that the world is getting’ crazier.
It is gettin' crazier. The polarizations. That’s why I think about gettin'
beyond those black and whites. People are scared basically. Fear runs a lot of
people, and so they have to put you in a certain box, and they need to put you
in a box, and I don’t like being put in a box. If you have black and white
thinking, then you create enemies, and you create right and wrong. And you don’t
go anywhere that way; that’s where we’ve been going forever. In order
to evolve we’ve just got to go beyond that. It has to come down to something
like faith , based on what's happened. Island
Independent: Do you have a sense of wanting to pursue your music further, or
is this album a completion on some level? Is this a milestone that leaves you
at peace with music? Derek
Parrott: Oh no, I’d die, wouldn’t I? I might just as well blow my brains
out now if that’s what I thought. People make records all the time, and some
of them don’t even listen to them. They’ve done it and they don’t
listen to ‘em again. They’re too busy creating the next one. I’m
not like that. But the danger is you can get so self-indulgent. It’s only
music after all; it’s not a masterpiece, although I can consider it, in some
terms, my little masterpiece, and if I died tomorrow I’d be quite happy to
leave that. But I’m already lookin’ forward. I want to continue. In
fact I’m really excited about where I’m gonna continue. That’s
the whole thing about being a songwriter: you cannot stop. If you do stop then
you shrivel up and die, and that’s the most amazing thing. Every time I write
a song, I think, "That’s just beautiful, I can’t top that!"
And then I write another song and say, "Oh, that’s beautiful, I can’t
top that!" And that’s what it’s about. And that’s what it
should be about. It’s alive and so am I. People want labels all the time
because they're scared. If you don't have a label on you, they're going to get
you, aren't they? That's paranoia. Island
Independent: Paranoia, and also very true. Derek
Parrott: But I’m looking forward. I don’t know where it’s going.
See the whole thing about this CD, too, is that I didn’t make it for a record
company. This whole definition of success, of where do you want to go. If I wanted
success in the eyes of the world, I’d be in Nashville, LA or New York, treading
on anybody to get there.... scrambling to get there. Star Search. That sort of
thing. That’s obscene. How can you compare a juggling dwarf with a three-year-old
disco singer? It’s just awful! And, no, I don’t want that kind of thing.
So it’s back to this paradox, y’know? Like in the old acid days ---
I am everything and I am nothing, I am God and I am as meaningless as a grain
of sand! Island
Independent: True. Derek
Parrott: And that’s it. I want my songs to be heard,
but I don’t want to a big staaaarrrr. And then people say, "Oh yes you
do." But I don’t want to enter the machine; I don’t want to become
part of the machine. Island
Independent: So do you have a sort of zenistic relation
to your gardening? Does working with nature like that give you the balance you
need? Derek
Parrott: Very necessary. Island
Independent: With the family as the axis of the triad? Derek
Parrott: That’s something that I think I’m here to learn. I can be on
other planets quite easily; that’s my natural state. But to function in this
world, I need grounding, and that’s about as grounded as you can get. Island
Independent: What else do you want to say now that you've got the chance? Derek
Parrott: Somebody once said to me. "Oh, you're makin’ records, you want
power, don’t you?" And I said, "No, of course not." But then
I thought, "Well maybe. I do want to be able to say what I want to say. I
really need to share this stuff." Island
Independent: Well, you probably feel that in some way
that’s your God-given function. That’s your gift, isn’t it? If
you have something to say that resonates with what should be encouraged and felt
in other people, you facilitate that by bringing it forth yourself. Isn’t
that the role of an artist in some way? Derek
Parrott: Exactly! That’s why I love you Drew, you understand. Island
Independent: In your music I also see you acknowledging
the shadow self; the so called darker side of the psyche. Even God vacillates.
"I am the alpha and the omega." Derek
Parrott: That’s right. And another thing about God. He didn’t just create
the world, and then sit there on his throne, watching soap operas, waiting for
us to catch up, he’s evolving too, he’s part of us. He’s doing
it. Island
Independent: As we go, He goes. Derek
Parrott: Yes. It would be so much easier for Him if it wasn’t
for all these damn human beings! Island
Independent: For Her. Derek
Parrott: For Them. There should be three sexes; have you thought about that? Island
Independent: I was told there were. Derek
Parrott: Won’t even get into that! There’s the men’s movement,
the women’s movement, but it’s all about becoming whole, you’ve
got to become authentic, which is a deeper word than just "honest."
You must be true to who you are. | 
