"Yeah... I suppose," Jake said. "It's just kind of scary to think about going out there on my own. The music I want to make is not Intemperance music at all — or at least most of it isn't."
Pauline was shaking her head. "Bad idea," she said. "You should really stick as close to the classic Intemperance sound as you can, at least for the main cuts on the album."
Jake raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?" he said.
"You don't want to stray too far from your roots," she said. "Your fans will want to hear you doing hard rock tunes with crunching guitar and classic Jake Kingsley lyrics. We'll hold auditions and get you the best damn guitar player we can scrounge up, someone who sounds similar to Matt, and then we'll..."
"Whoa, hold on a minute," Jake said. "Why would I hire some Matt sound-alike for a guitarist? No matter who he is, he isn't going to sound as good as Matt and people are just going to spend all of their time comparing them instead of focusing on the music I've produced."
"I think you're reading too much into this," Pauline said. "Sure, chances are we won't find someone as good as Matt on lead guitar, but if he's at least close, they'll still enjoy the music as long as it sounds like Intemperance in spirit and execution. They'll be able to focus on you as the singer and rhythm guitarist."
Now it was Jake shaking his head. "David Lee Roth already tried this, remember? He hooked up with Steve Vai, who is a pretty damn good guitarist, but he ain't as good as Eddie Van Halen."
"They went double and triple platinum for those albums," Pauline reminded him.
"Yes," Jake said, "and that was undoubtedly due to a loyal fan base, a few catchy tunes, and a vain hope that the original Van Halen had been recreated. But the illusion didn't hold very long, did it? Look at where they are now. Vai is now playing for Whitesnake as they wind their way downward into obscurity. And Roth... well, his last album didn't even go gold, did it?"
"Well... no, it didn't," Pauline had to admit.
"I don't want to try to put together another Intemperance," Jake said. "I don't want to end up in obscurity in three years because people are tired of me drawing from the well too many times. If I'm going to go solo, I'm going to go truly solo and make the kind of music I want to make. I'm not going to be formulistic. If I want to do a ballad, I'll do it. If I want to do a completely acoustic piece without any drums or bass, I'll do that. If I want to do some kind of heavy metal piece with palm-muted double guitars and screaming solos, I'll do that. To me, that's what being a solo artist means. It's the end of formulism."
Chapter 20b
"Jake, will anyone buy an album like that?" she asked. "I mean... realistically, will they? Will the radio stations play songs that don't involve you being accompanied by distorted guitars and heavy drum beats?"
"I make music, Pauline," he told her. "It's what I do and I'm good at it. There might be some kind of backlash from the hard-core Intemperance fans, but I think I'll pick up enough new fans to replace them. There is a precedent for this."
"There is?" she asked.
"Robert Plant," Jake said. "His solo stuff is very different from classic Led Zepplin, yet radio stations play it and fans enjoy it. There's also Sting. His music sounds nothing like the material he used to make with The Police, yet he's one of the most critically acclaimed artists out there — although I will admit that I don't really care for his solo stuff myself."
"Wouldn't you think that they are more the exception than the rule?" Pauline asked. "Look at Phil Collins. He's become even more popular since leaving Genesis and the two styles of music are virtually indistinguishable."
"Actually, Phil Collins is in a completely different category altogether. He's a singer who was destined to be a solo act and, because of happenstance, played in a band first."
"I'm not sure I see the distinction," Pauline said.
"Well, Genesis was a decent enough band — don't get me wrong — but their strong point was always Phil Collins' voice. They didn't have a strong guitarist, their lyrics weren't all that great, and their music was original, but not outstanding. Collins is the force that made Genesis what they became. They weren't shit with Peter Gabriel and they wouldn't be shit now if they tried to replace Collins. Collins is like Sammy Hagar and Ozzy Osborne. They're talented singers and musicians who do their best standing on their own but, in order to get to the point where they could do so, had to be a member of a band first. They are the force that brought the band to where it was and without them, the band is nothing. When Sammy was with Montrose, they rocked, but only because of Sammy's voice. When Ozzy was with Black Sabbath, they rocked, but only because of Ozzy's voice."
"Hmm," Pauline said thoughtfully. "I think I see your point. Don't you think, however, that you fall into that same category?"
"I think I have that potential," Jake said. "If I didn't think that, I wouldn't even try, but I was by no means the primary talent of Intemperance. My singing voice is associated with Matt's guitar, Nerdly's piano, and the hard rock sound we made — a sound that no matter what kind of talent we dig up, is not going to be matched when I go solo. It will only be a hollow imitation like David Lee Roth and Steve Vai. Not only that, I really need to take a little break from that particular sound and do something else."
"You don't want to do hard rock at all anymore?"
"I don't want to do it exclusively," he said. "I like the blues progression sound I've been playing around with — heavy on acoustic guitar and piano with a strong bass beat. It's something I'd like to experiment more with. I also want to try mixing in some violin and some synthesizer accompaniment, maybe even some sax or a full-on horn section."
Pauline did not look awed by his musical ambition. She looked downright nervous and doubtful. "I'm not sure that National or Aristocrat would be happy with that," she said. "I think they're expecting something along the lines of hard rock with heavy distorted guitar and screaming solos."
"They'll get what I give them," Jake said with a shrug. "Isn't that a part of both contract offers? That I maintain artistic license in full?"
"Yes, it would be," she said, "but if you start throwing horns and violins at them — something markedly different from what they were envisioning when they signed you — they might have a credible argument for breach of contract on grounds of misrepresentation."
Jake's eyes narrowed. "I will not have a record company or anyone else dictate what kind of music I make."
"I understand how you feel, Jake," she said. "I know how important your musical freedom and your sense of artistic integrity are to you, but I'm talking reality here, not perfect world. If you want to avoid conflict with your record company — whoever they might be — you're going to have to make at least half of the tunes on your solo album power guitar based hard rock tunes. That's just the way it will have to be. If you do that, you'll have the other half of the album for experimental tunes."
"I'll do my albums my way," Jake said, refusing to give any ground. "I'm not going to pump out five genre-friendly tunes that will be nothing but comparisons to Intemperance and then have my real work buried as deep cuts that are never played on the radio and never pick up new fans. I'm not going to budge on this, Pauline. If the record companies don't like it, they just kiss my hairy ass."
Pauline sighed. She knew her brother well enough to know that he wasn't just posturing. "In that case," she said, "I think it would be a good idea to disclose your musical intentions when we open contract negotiations. It will hurt our bargaining power, perhaps even to the point where we won't be able to come to terms, but at least they won't be able to accuse you of misrepresentation."