Had you asked Concrete Blonde's Johnette Napolitano 17 years ago what her life would be like now, it is highly unlikely that even she would have known, much less gotten a straight answer from the Cuban oracle. After all, how many artists could claim a career that spans nearly two decades, three mediums, and still retain a shred of mental and emotional stability? Not very many.

A maverick who refuses to bow to cultural persuasion, Johnette Napolitano has managed to endear herself and her music to millions without capitulating to current musical trends. From her spoken word performance with Vowel Movement, to Latin fusion with Los Illegals, Johnette has bridged musical territories with an ease and curiosity that suits the creative mind.

While Johnette lets her heart dictate her next move artistically she can also be enthusiastic about many of today's pressing issues. Politically outspoken, Johnette has never shied away from what are at times controversial opinions. Take Concrete Blonde's live show for example, it's not uncommon Ms. Napolitano to insert verbal jabs into her cleverly timeless lyrics - everyone from the Los Angeles Police Department to George W. Bush has been the target of her educated derision. Her opinions often falling opposite the views of the majority, she is frequently lauded for speaking out in an era where it's easier to remain silent.

Most outstanding, Johnette has stayed viable in a terribly fickle business. While most aging divas resort to plastic surgery and high priced producers, Johnette has matured both her outlook on life and her corresponding creative outlets. She takes more time to paint. She prefers the quietude of the desert to the hubbub of the city. And she still rocks harder on stage than most of the boys, go figure.

Hot on the heels of releasing a live double album; Dixie Tucker recently had the privilege of talking to Johnette about her music - both in and out of Concrete Blonde, Flamenco cantar, and Gypsies electric or otherwise.





Dixie Tucker: Your new album is a double-disc live effort called "Live in Brazil". What gave you the idea to finally capture Concrete Blonde live and why did you choose Brazil of all places?

Johnette Napolitano: It was our soundman's idea (the lovely Felix Brenner) who thought it would be a cool place to do a live record. Exotic location, like Cheap Trick in Budokan.

DT: Concrete Blonde has been around for over 17 years now. What is it like to still be making music when today's industry sees so many artists come and go?

JN: I think we're either stubborn old bastards or very lucky! This is what we do. We've never been particularly trendy, so we're still around, like your basic black turtleneck or something. Your basic cup of coffee.

DT: While Concrete Blonde has had many drummers, the core always remains Johnette and Jim (Mankey). What are the challenges of having such an in depth and long-running partnership?

JN: Well, no matter how sick you get of each other, and it's just natural that you do sometimes, it's important to keep in mind the positive aspects of that chemistry. There's something bands have when they've been together a long time. You can hear it, it's a natural fit, and it's hard to have that with just anyone. The thing is to stay individually stimulated so that you bring back to the partnership something fresh. Jim's been playing bass on the new music we're working on and I'm playing more guitar. We each approach those instruments in a new way and it works. Jim may have been insecure about that years ago, but he's obviously secure enough in his artistry that it doesn't matter. We're into stretching ourselves and making the most out of our minimal unit. Jim blows me away on bass but I'm proud of the band more than I need to draw attention to myself, or each of us individually.

DT: Which artists were instrumental to you for deciding to pursue music in the first place?

JN: I started playing when I was 8 years old so it wasn't a matter of another artist inspiring me to do it. When it got to forming a band, we couldn't keep a bass player because we didn't have a deal or a following, and I decided to play bass. I think it was probably Sting who inspired me to do that, I figured if he could sing and play bass at the same time, I could.

DT: You've done several solo projects either on your own or collaborating with different artists (Vowel Movement, Pretty & Twisted, etc.). Are there plans for any more projects in the near future?

JN: We recently collaborated with a Native American friend of ours and need to edit and mix that project, and we've recorded a lot with Gabriel, our amazingly talented new drummer. I love the new stuff, it's very psychedelic, and am working on lyrics at this point.

DT: You've never been afraid to express your political views, either through song or speaking out in concert. What do you think of the current political situation and of war in general?

JN: I think this war is illegal, and I think George Bush should be impeached.

DT: Let's talk about the state of commercialism. You recently rallied against a T-Rex song being used to sell pasta. What's wrong with the way marketing seems to be operating today and what do you think we as people can do to change it?

JN: Well, there's nothing really wrong, I suppose. I'm just romantic about some things. I heard Bowie turned down a diaper commercial that wanted to use 'Changes'. I hear Jackson Brown turned down a motor oil commercial that wanted to use 'Running On Empty'.

Music is a soundtrack to your life; I would rather remember a summer in Baja when I hear a certain song than feel I have to buy a Nissan. But we're the demographic that they're after now, and it's only natural that they should target us with the music we grew up with. Hendrix selling cars…that shit's too much for me. Rock and roll was supposed to be the middle finger up to the establishment; now it very much IS the establishment. There is nothing more mainstream than 'rock' music.

DT: You say that these days it's Jazz and Flamenco that gives you the feeling of excitement that Rock music gave you as a teenager. What is it about these forms of music that break musical and ideal boundaries for you? Do you think these elements can be incorporated into rock music?

JN: Flamenco is gypsy music and gypsies have always been persecuted, and there's a history about it I respect and admire. You can make Flamenco music with nothing more than your hands, voice, and feet. It's truly music of the people; the way gospel and blues were sung in the cotton fields. Gypsies made music picking grapes or fishing, and the only way to preserve their history was oral tradition.

Elements of Flamenco has definitely been incorporated into rock music, the purists don't necessarily like it but fusions happen in any art form, and I think that's fine. In Flamenco there are rhythm patterns that are more Eastern and are very challenging. 4/4 is pretty primal, but when the 12 is the 1 it can really turn your head around. I've never considered myself a 'musician', I think that would be an insult to musicians who study and really know what they're doing.

DT: What sparked your interest in Flamenco music and dance?

JN: I've always loved Flamenco. It's just incredibly beautiful and passionate, I've always loved to dance, and nothing else interested me enough to discipline myself into learning it. I'll never be a ballet dancer, I don't have the body for it and classical music doesn't move me enough to want to dance ballet. I am physically suited, however, for Flamenco dance as well as the cante, or singing, and I've seen Flamenco dancers in their 70's that have astounded me. There is a respect for older artists in Flamenco, and you can perform for as long as you can. There isn't the bias that there is in this country when it comes to age. It's very feminine, but very strong. The balance of femininity and strength appeals to me.

DT: How did that influence your decision to open up your tour in the states with a Flamenco group?

Katarina Tomas was my teacher, and Steven Dick, the guitarist, is her husband. I thought it would be great to turn people on to something that turns me on so much, and I loved the idea of being able to hear and see Flamenco every night on the road! When it gets going, it's pretty strong stuff, and I was glad to see how well people received it.

DT: How has your painting been going? Have you had any recent opportunities to show your work in any galleries?

JN: I've been in the studio ever since I got home the other day. I bought a book on Santeros in Sante Fe when we played there recently. Santeros are Saint makers. They work mostly in wood and natural pigments, and create Saints for churches or whoever needs one. I've always liked religious art for some reason, and it inspired the hell out of me, no pun intended! I immediately wanted to work on a Saint Cecilia, who is the patron saint of musicians. I like working with wood, but generally find scraps or used wood, I don't believe in buying new wood for art. I also managed some work in clay yesterday, which is one of my favorite mediums. I spent some time in Mata Ortiz in Mexico with Juan Quezada, who is a legend and master potter, and I was deeply influenced by his philosophy of untilizing natural materials and his sense of ecological harmony. I'm getting some stuff together and would like to open a gallery out here where I live, near Joshua Tree, but I've been through that before and unless I can be around all the time to run things right it can be a real pain in the ass. I have a few mosaic pieces left and have a few ideas about a cohesive show, and will have to work in breaks between touring. It felt good to be in the studio yesterday working with my hands, I was very relaxed.

DT: Besides painting and music, you also write poetry. What role does poetry play in the way you see the world? Does it influence your other artistic mediums?

JN: I don't consider myself a good poet. I write lyrics, which are different, I think. That's a whole different thing. If there's a chord progression worked out or a groove worked out and the only thing that will sing well is a long vowel, then the chorus has to be a long vowel, and I've got to find a word that has that long vowel and not only does it have to sing well it has to actually be relevant to whatever it is I'm trying to say. That's the challenge I like: it has to sing well and make sense, and hopefully somehow be picturesque at the same time. I am a downright bitch when it comes to lyrics: it drives me crazy if they're not written well, if a single word is used more than it should, if phrasing isn't right. When I think of true poetry I think of Leonard Cohen or Federico Garcia Lorca. Someone recently gave me a book of Cohen's stuff and it makes me want to stop writing altogether, it's so damned good.

DT: After spending most of your life living in LA, you decided to move out to the desert. How has this changed you pace of living? In what ways has it affected your creativity?

JN: I think there are different phases of life and by this point in my life I had intended to get back into physical, visual and constructive art. I always admired artists like Georgia O'Keefe and Beatrice Wood. I'm not one of those people who think rock and roll is particularly graceful at 50 or 60. I don't even want to. I had intended to move back to Baja Mexico full time by now, but there are people living in my house down there and I don't want to throw them out! I'm a Virgo and need nature in my life; and I've always liked the desert. I need the space, and it definitely has affected my approach to music.

When I was living in Baja I couldn't write a rock song to save my life, it just wasn't appropriate. The ocean and the hills were serene, eternal. The music on 'Sketchbook', my solo thing, is more along the lines of soundtrack music, ambient suggestions of melodies and atmosphere. I was saying to someone recently that I think Hollywood is a good place to be young. I was in a hotel there and everybody in the bar was in their 20's, and I thought, well I have partied this town to the bone, I mean, I did it better than anyone. Done all the clubs, ran around all night, the whole deal. You can only do that so long and I think when you get a little older you become conscious of what you want to leave behind, and your work becomes more important, the body of work that you'll leave behind.

DT: What keeps you going in life? What pushes you to still create, be it art, music, or dancing?

JN: Good question. I think simply the general amazement I feel at still being alive. A lot of people aren't. I've slowed down in some ways but still have a work ethic and feel like a lazy slob if I don't get something accomplished every day. I realize I'm a very lucky person to be able to make a living doing what I do, and I appreciate it more now than I ever have. I've wanted to be an artist since I was a kid. I saw so many people with dreams who threw in the towel and 'grew up' and got 'real' jobs and all that. Like some alarm goes off when you hit 30 and bam, you've got to go have a family and payments and all these grown-up responsibilities.

The people I've always read about and admired lived very unconventional lives, have done exactly as they pleased. There are no rules at all in life, we can live the way we want to, but I think people have a hard time with the family and social approval thing, the pressure to conform. Fuck that, or as Jimi Hendrix said, 'I'm the one who's going to die when it's time for me to die, let me live my life the way I want to'.