The Orange County, CA, Register featured an interview with Nick in their October 3, 1997, edition:
Duran Duran Baffled, Too, By Tribute
Album
by Ben Werner
It's easy to understand other honorees. Bruce Springsteen. Iggy Pop. Jimmie Rodgers. The Stones. Doesn't take more than a few seconds to come up with at least a dozen reasons why those names deserve a tribute album.
You can even explain something like Regatta Mondatta, on which some of today's top reggae stars planted a big, wet, irie kiss across The Police's catalog. Stretch the boundaries a bit -- and keep in mind all the chatter about this so-called electronica explosion that's supposed to be happening in everyone's car stereo -- and the recent Gary Numan tribute doesn't seem so ludicrous, either.
But a tribute album to Duran Duran? Done by Third Wave ska stars? There has to be a connection -- how 'bout one shallow trend paying its respects to another? But who cares? Isn't this just a tad silly?
Precisely. You don't expect to listen to Goldfinger slamming through "Rio", or Reel Big Fish, itself overly fond of early '80s new romantic nonsense, tearing through "Hungry Like the Wolf" with a straight face, do you? But if you press Duran Duran founder, keyboardist and self-described "keeper of the band's flame" Nick Rhodes as to what he thinks of The Duran Duran Tribute Album -- no joke; that's the catchy title -- you might also conclude that the honorific (in stores Tuesday from Mojo Records) is bafflingly premature as well.
"I don't know whether we were quite ready for something like this just yet," Rhodes said by phone. "I mean, we are still making records. We've far from given up. Usually these sorts of things come at the end of your career when you've got nothing more to say."
Whether groups such as Less Than Jake, Buck-O-Nine, the Deftones and The Mr. T Experience intend their efforts as respectful homages or loving send-ups is hard to discern. Either way, Duran-times-two is prepared to fight for its validity; the band is about to release its first album of new material since its crucial, career-recharging, self-titled effort (commonly referred to as The Wedding Album) in 1993.
The sassy Medazzaland, in stores Oct. 14, is not only a recovery from Duran Duran's own ill-fated and deservedly maligned covers collection, Thank You, but it's a strong indication that, no matter how many thrashing alterna-nuts may wish death threats upon them, the Duranies still have the ability to shape tastes and styles through even the most superficial of means. (Or is it especially because of those superficial means?)
"This is the definitive Duran Duran album for the '90s," Rhodes, 35, said of the new album, its title stemming from the surreal dream-state after-effect of the drug medazalin. "So far, without a doubt, it captures what the '90s are for me."
And that would be ...?
"The underlying chaos and controlled hysteria of life, and especially the extremities of the times and our reliance on technology. Everything has become quite mystical to me, particularly with the whole renewed interest in space -- everything from The X-Files to the Mir station to the flood of alien movies out there these days."
There are elements of all of these topics strewn throughout Medazzaland, its Orwellian overtones pulsing through tracks such as "Big Bang Generation" while a more celebratory embrace of all things odd makes a great leadoff single out of "Electric Barbarella" (the first song from Duran Duran to actually mention the name of the film &endash; "Barbarella" -- from whence its name came).
But from his tone of voice it's clear that there are deeper reasons why Medazzaland is so important to Rhodes. For one, it marks yet another period in Duran Duran's checkered career when it will have to reconfirm its popularity. (Four years between new releases can do that to you.)
For two, it's yet another new lineup for the group. John Taylor, the last of the unrelated Taylors from the original roll call, left the band this year, leaving only Rhodes, lead singer Simon LeBon and latecomer Warren Cuccurullo to soldier on.
Rhodes says the reason for Taylor's departure is "Los Angeles. That's it completely. John effectively moved there before the covers album, he has a place there, his own record label, his own studio, his kid is there. And I think it was becoming too much of a strain on him going back and forth from L.A. to England.
"And it wasn't really working for us, either. We weren't really operating like a band anymore. There wasn't the necessary pulling and tugging that makes for great songwriting. We were all in too many directions to make it work."
That, plus LeBon's recent bout with writer's block, may explain away 1997, but what about the other three years since "Come Undone" and "Ordinary World" re-established Duran Duran in the Top 40? Why didn't the group capitalize on The Wedding Album's success -- it remains their biggest seller -- with a new collection the following year?
Fitting of a man whose band built its reputation on crass commercialism, Rhodes says it's about "quality control" and "maintaining the standard of our production work."
"We needed time, really, to put together a quality album. I really hate buying CDs that are 75 minutes long but have 45 minutes of junk on them," he said. "That wouldn't happen so much if other artists exercised more control. We threw away so much that would have made for an OK album, but not a great Duran Duran album.
"Plus, we like to make our albums events, not just releases."
Now it's becoming clear. A new release coming on the heels of a youth-friendly tribute album. Sounds fishy.
Add to it what should be a headline-making appearance (alongside some of the more prominent acts on the tribute disc) Oct. 12 at the Tower Records on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood and it starts to look more and more like a cheap marketing ploy. That you can get tickets only by either purchasing the tribute album, pre-ordering Medazzaland or by winning them from KROQ/106.7 FM further smacks of manipulation.
Rhodes insists Duran Duran had nothing to do with it. And he doesn't quite know what to make of the tribute album anyway.
"I love that it's so diverse," he said after some hesitation. "I only heard it for the first time a couple of weeks ago and I was astonished at the range of it. Everything from ska to speed metal is there. And I really wouldn't have thought Duran Duran would have interested so many young acts."
He counts Eve's Plum's take of "Save a Prayer" as his favorite but notes that it's difficult for him to hear these reworkings. "I'm so used to hearing our versions that I can't quite separate the two yet."
Besides, Rhodes says, he's not much for looking back anyway. Not surprisingly, then, he says the thought of a reunion of the original five Duranies -- including guitarist Andy Taylor, back now with the Power Station, and drummer Roger Taylor -- is "not something that ever enters my head. I really can't bear nostalgia. It's something I don't ever want to go near.
"Still, I'm one of those people who never says never. But I'd rather be working on new things."
(A fan e-mailed the reporter and told him she thought he was a bit rude, but he told her he actually likes the new album and he meant "crass commercialism" in a good way. He also sent her this additonal quote from Nick: "We are a real sort of multimedia band, that was how we set out to be from the start. I view us very differently than other rock or pop groups. We've mutated along the way, but at the beginning, and still now to some extent, we wanted to be part of pop music, part of art, part of trashy media, part of television, part of movies, we want all of that to be part of us. We use all the bits from all over the place. That, of course, leads us to be somewhat manipulative of all of those things. We're not purists in that respect. It's simply to combine all of these things that are vital to us and continue to create something new out of it.")