The
Sopranos' Steven Van Zandt preaches the gospel of rock on the radio
every week
by David Fricke
IN
2001, LITTLE STEVEN VAN ZANDT SINGER-GUITARIST IN
Bruce Springsteen's E Street Band and a star on HBO's The Sopranos
as strip-club owner Silvio Dante - met with executives from five top
radio-syndication companies and made them an offer he felt they
couldn't refuse.
"I
said, 'I got a little celebrity capital - I'd like to do a radio
show, playing rock & roll records,'" he recalls. "They
all said, 'Rock & roll? You can't play rock & roll on the
radio anymore."
Van
Zandt's reply: "You're telling the wrong guy." The proof:
He is now heard weekly on more than 130 stations nationwide as the
host of Little Steven's Underground Garage, a two-hour blast of
1960s eaturing Nuggets-era legends such as the Yardbirds and the
Electric Prunes together with new releases by hot revivalists
including the Boss Martians and the Raveonettes. The show is also
broadcast around the world, through Voice of America, and this year
Van Zandt, 53, will launch an "Underground Garage" channel
on Sirius Satellite Radio. Van Zandt, whose chuckling-hipster banter
between songs is a gas in itself, spent $1 million of his own money
getting his Garage on the air, personally pitching it to programmers
and advertisers.
"I
felt I had to do it," he says in his Manhattan taping studio, a
room crammed with CDs and splashed in psychedelic paint. Indeed, Van
Zandt - a native of Boston who grew up in Middletown, New Jersey -
is a true child of garage rock, along with Springsteen. The two
first met in 1965 while playing in combos on the Jersey teen-club
circuit. "We grew up on the Music Machine and the Easybeats,"
says Van Zandt, who was the guitarist in Southside Johnny and the
Asbury Jukes before joining the E Street Band in 1975. In fact, on
his last tour, Springsteen played Underground Garage tapes over the
PA before showtime.
"He's
totally into it," Van Zandt says. "Bruce found me the
Hives. He saw them on BBC TV and said, 'This would be good for your
show.' He was right!"
You've
been on the air for nearly two years. Do you have any idea who is
listening?
We
go by the e-mails we get. About a third are young people who have
never heard anything like this before. A twenty-one-year-old wrote,
"Thank you for turning us on to this group called the Kinks.
We'd never heard of them."
It's a very scary time. That thing we assumed would last forever,
the Ten Corn-mandments of rock & roll history, carved in stone -
forget it. The other day, I was with some people, and the Rolling
Stones came on the radio. There was a twenty-two-year-old girl there,
and I said, "Can you identify that? Who is that?" She had
no idea. When I said it was the Rolling Stones, she said, "Oh,
those are the people who play stadiums."
Are
you trying to save a dying music?
I
believe in this world, this garageland, where everyone is in their
prime. I treat new bands like Reigning Sound and the Greenhornes
with the same importance that I treat Little Richard and Jerry Lee
Lewis, and I play Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis like they're
new kids who just put out their first records. I don't think of this
as nostalgia.
How
do you program a show?
The
format is based on the Ramones. I started off joking about this,
then I realized it's true. I play the Ramones virtually every week.
I also play everyone who influenced the Ramones, and everybody
influenced by the Ramones. It's all connected, certainly in mymind:
the Fifties, surfmusic, girl groups, the British Invasion, the
psychedelic period, punk. I call it fun with substance. No slow
songs - and I rarely play anything over three minutes.
Is
it hard to find great new garage bands? How much ofwhat you hear
isjust enthusias tic recycling?
I
average one song per twenty albums I listen to. And these days, they
put eighteen songs on a fucking album - it'll be the seventeenth one
that I like, But we're drowning in mediocrity. The arts have never
meant less to our culture than they do now, and what's out there is
shocking. If you make a really cool record, you can get it on my
show. But it's gotta be really good as everything else I'm playing.
New bands should do the same thing we used to do, what the Rolling
Stones did: Start off as a bar band doing covers. I'm not sure
people do that anymore, but they should. It immediately raises your
standards. Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes were playing odd
covers in '74: Sam and Dave album tracks, reggae from The Harder
They Come. I slipped in "I Don't Want to Go Home," the
first song I'd written. We said it was a Drifters song and got away
with it. But it was that sort of thinking - you have to write as
good as the rest of your set.
You
have long history of political activism. In 1984, you produced the
all-star hit album "Sun City" to protest apartheid in
South Africa. But your radio show is very apolitical.
I
said everything I needed to say about politics in the Eighties. You
gotta pick your fights, and the most important fight to me now is
bringingback rock & roll for the generations who have never
heard it. Rock & roll is something our society needs. There is
something about rock & roll - more than hard rock, hip-hop or
pop - that creates community and communicates adventure.
What
are you politics now, off the air?
Even
in my political days, I was an independent. Republicans, Democrats -
I see them all as problematic. I'm an issue-by-issue guy When it
comes to human rights and environmental issues I am more on the
Democratic side but taking one dollar out of every two I earn -
absolute tyranny! I gave up relating to presidents on my thirteenth
birthday, when John Kennedy was shot. That was the last time you
could look at a president and be proud of the intellect and
education, the way they spoke, that thing you could trace back to
Lincoln. It's been weird ever since.
When
did you first become a garage-rock maniac?
The
same as everyone else: February 9, 1964, the Beatles on Ed Sullivan.
But I didn't think I could be a Beatle. They were too good. I didn't
feel I could do it until I saw the Rolling Stones on Hollywood
Palace. They were a little sloppier, didn't dress the same. Their
hair was out of place, and their har monies weren't exactly right.
Was
there a garage-rock scene in Asbury Park in the 1960s?
I
got there the year of the riots, 1968. It was already a ghost town
The only thing happening was the Upstage Club - 8P.M. to 4A.M., no
booze, a teenage club just for musicians to jam. We had different
bands every few months. Bruce would be in my band. I'd be in his
band. If you were in a band in those days, you were friends. If you
grew your hair long - for a while we were, like, the only two people
in New Jersey - you were friends. And if you had long hair and you
were in a band, you were best friends.
You
also toured the oldies circuit as a backingpianistfor the Dovells [
Stomp"].
I
was a gambler when I was a kid so when we got to Las Vegas, it was
like Mecca. I got there the last year the mob was there. Man, it was
so much better then. It was very service-oriented.
Most
people don't think ofthe mob as synonymous with service.
You
couldn't spend more than five dollars for food. Rooms were ten
dollars. If you were gambling and your glass was empty, another
drink was there. It was the smart move financially, to keep people
gambling. We paid for Southside Johnny's first album because we had
a good summer at the track. That’s the truth I met all my heroes
on the oldies circuit: Gary U.S. Bonds, Lloyd Price, Little Richard.
I ended up playing with Dion in Miami on New Year's Eve. I came back
with all these flowered shirts, the Sam Snead golf hat. I refused to
acknowledge winter ever again. Everybody started calling me Miami
Steve.
I
vividly remember the white suits and fedoras you first wore in the E
Street Band.
I
never liked that look. I went through a windshield somewhere in the
Seventies [ laughs] - I don't even remember how - and my hair never
grew in right. So I was wearing the hats. Then I switched to the
bandanas. I just didn't feel like wearing a wig all the time.
Luckily, in rock & roll, it's looked on as an eccentricity. If I
was a Supreme Court judge, I'd be in trouble.
Why
did you change your name to Little Steven when you started making
solo albums?
Miami
Steve was so associated with the E Street Band. I didn't want to
exploit that.
But we all had nicknames. And Steven Van Zandt as an artist — what
kind of name is that? As Bruce's mother said to him when he got his
record deal, "So what did you change your name to?"
Were
you surprised when Bruce asked you to rejoin for the E Street
reunion tour in 1999?
No.
We had stayed friendly the whole time, discussed everything along
the way. But I had become an actor in my mind. Six months after I
got the job on The Sopranos, I was rehearsing for the reunion,
thinking, "Where were you five years ago? I finally got a
job!" Every day off from touring, I was flying back to do The
Sopranos.
How
did you get the role of Silvio Dante? Van Zandt is a very Dutch name
for a guy playing an Italian hard guy.
I
am Italian. Springsteen's mostly Italian, too. We're both Italians
with Dutch names, one of the many things we have in common. My
mother remarried when I was young, and my stepfather adopted me. [Sopranos
creator] David Chase saw me on TV inducting the Rascals into the
Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I did my five-minute bit, which David
happened to catch. He called the next day. I had written a treatment
for this character called Silvio Dante, who ran a Copacabana-type
club in modern times. He was an independent hit man who had retired.
David Chase liked the idea but changed it to a strip club.
Did
you have wiseguys hanging around back when you played Jersey bars?
Yeah.
They looked exactly like central casting: the suits, the bulge in
the jacket, the hair greased back. The Beatles haircut never worked
for them. But there was nobody leaning on us. There was no money to
be made from us.
Between
your TV and radio gigs, will you have time to tour the next time
Bruce calls?
We're
back into that cycle of albums and tours. Honestly, I love it. Now
with the radio show, I have an additional reason: to go to these
cities and ask the local record-store guy, "What's happening in
your town?"
Isn't
it a conflict of interest when you play a Springsteen track on the
show?
I
play the garagey stuff, the outtakes on Tracks "Restless Nights,"
"Take 'Em As They Come." It’s not a conflict of interest.
This is my flicking show. Hopefully you'll like it. And if you don't,
wait three minutes. I got another great song comin'.
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