Interviews with Adam (only) ?

The friendliest place on the web for anyone that follows U2.
If you have answers, please help by responding to the unanswered posts.

65980

Refugee
Joined
Oct 2, 2005
Messages
1,059
Could I be directed to any interviews -- video or printed -- with Adam Clayton, alone?

The funny comment about Larry's recent verbosity prompting Edge to turn to interviews with Adam as his only means of getting a word in edgewise (pun intended) made me think -- have I ever seen an Adam-only interview?

The only one I can think of was in the PopMart period, but I think it was just a case of each guy being interviewed separately.

I wish somebody would do an in-depth interview with Mr. Clayton alone, because I usually find his comments the most insightful.
 
"Reluctant Rockstar: How U2's Adam Clayton Learned to Play - And Conquer the World Onstage"
by Gregory Isola
Bass Player: Adam Clayton Interview 11.11.00

Somewhere between Bono (the world's biggest rock star), The Edge (the world's coolest rock guitarist), and Larry Mullen Jr. (the world's baddest rock drummer) stands U2 bassist Adam Clayton. "I just keep the bottom end moving," shrugs the affable 40-year-old. "I'm right on a good day, but there are so many great cats out there. Really I'm just glad to be in the club."

The release of All That You Can't Leave Behind marks two decades that U2 has been in the bona fide rock star club. But while other top-drawer rockers learned to play in bedrooms and dank bars - before friends and forgivable fans - Clayton's evolution as a player took place on the world's biggest stages. Of course, superstardom was never the point. The three Dublin schoolboys who answered Mullen's ad for bandmates really just wanted to see what it was like to stand onstage and bash out three-minute songs - and they were terrible. That is, until they started writing their own songs. "Even up through our first few records we got by on very little, at least musically," Clayton grimaces. "But we were always able to make something of it, just in the way we played together."

U2 created an unprecedented blend of stark, post-punk instrumental textures, spiritual lyrics, and over-the-top bombast that resulted in some of the most majestic rock music of the 1980s and '90s. Along the way, Clayton went from struggling to hold together simple eighth-note grooves to incorporating bass influences from Motown to reggae into his ever-evolving style. As elemental riffs like "With or Without You" and "New Year's Day" gave way to the Jamerson-style bounce of "Angel of Harlem" and "Sweetest Thing," Clayton quietly became one of rock's reigning bass heroes - whether he knows it or not.

BP: Many see 1983's War as a breakthrough for U2. You in particular became a distinct musical voice.

AC: On the early records, it was really just a case of Edge and Larry struggling to keep the whole thing together. We were all surviving on minimal technique, and the formula in those early days was 4/4 bass over a relatively complex beat from Larry, with Edge doing his arpeggios over the top. But by the time we got to War, the songs were more structured, and the bass sound was featured more. Also, I suppose by then I could actually play things in time - and in tune - so I was able to be a bit more melodic.

BP: New Year's Day remains your most famous riff.

AC: That actually grew out of me trying to work out the chords to the Visage tune "Fade to Grey." It was a kind of Euro-disco dance hit, and somehow it turned into "New Year's Day."

BP: What else were you listening to during those formative years?

AC: I was drawn to things I thought were either sexy or aggressive - or both. I really liked the violence of what Jean Jacques Burnel was doing on the first couple of Stranglers records. He had this mighty sound of his own, but it was also mixed with their keyboard player's Hammond organ bass for a very interesting effect. And there was Bruce Foxton of the Jam and Joy Division's Peter Hook, and of course Paul Simonon of The Clash. His playing was more sexy than violent, plus it was a bit more dubby, which I wasn't fully tuned into at the time.

Later on I got in to the classic Bob Marley records with Aston Barrett. I always liked the position the bass took on those records, as opposed to the position the bass is usually given. Same with John Entwistle - he plays remarkable stuff that can be hard to follow, but I love that he refuses to be put in the background.

BP: Is it true you were U2's musical leader in the beginning, back in the late 70s?

AC: Perhaps - but that's only because punk rock had just happened, so it wasn't really important that you knew how to play so long as you had some equipment [laughs]. I'd simply decided I was going to be a musician, so I got this Ibanez copy of a Gibson EB-3 and a Marshall head, and I guess those crucial ingredients made the others figure I knew a bit more about music. I did know a thing or two about my equipment, but I certainly didn't know anything about playing.

BP: What were the band's goals in those days?

AC: The ambition was just to end the song together! We had these interminable rehearsals where we would never actually get to the end of the song. But we also wanted to be part of what we felt was going on. In terms of musical values, it was a time of throwing off the idea that people who played guitars in bands were these rock gods who were to be obeyed and saluted. We got off on the idea that you could play a three-minute song with a few basic chords as fast as you possible could, and that was a good enough reason to be onstage. It meant that you had a life right now - that you didn't have to spend three years in your bedroom trying to figure out how to play "Stairway to Heaven."

BP: Your playing got a lot groovier later on, starting with 1988's Rattle and Hum.

AC: That may have been me getting lucky in a way. It's always depended on the tune with us, so as our songwriting became more developed and there were better chord progressions, I found I would fall into more interesting things. I wouldn't literally know where I was headed when I started out, but Larry's drums have always told me what to play, and then the chords tell me where to go. Because of this, my parts are very much created as the song is evolving.

BP: Does the whole band compose this way?

AC: We do write in an unconventional way, I suppose. If we try to arrange a song that's already been worked out on acoustic guitar, it's hard for us. But if we start with a few bits and then work around each other to develop the song, we seem to go to more interesting places. "Bullet the Blue Sky" is a great example; it's really just one musical moment, extended in time. Larry started playing that beat, and I started to play across it - as opposed to with it - while Edge was playing something else entirely. Bono said, "Whatever you guys are doing, don't stop!" So we kept playing, and he improvised that melody. "Please" [Pop] was another happy accident. One of our producers, Howie B., was playing a record in the studio, and I started to play a bass part over the recording. It created these strange grooves and keys, and my line really began to work only after Howie stopped the record.

BP: How important is your three-piece lineup to this free-form approach?

AC: Three pieces can be limiting, but there's something to be said for learning your chops as a three-piece. If you can hang together that way, it becomes easy to know if the instruments and people you're adding on top are right or not. I'm grateful this was never a band with a keyboard player and another guitar player, because then what chops would I have ever needed?
Still, we've almost always augmented our records with keyboards and other
things. We got a lot of attention with the Pop record, since we'd all become very interested in club music and computer-generated loops. But those were things we'd been using pretty much from Unforgettable Fire onward. Lots of bands in the late 90's were saying, "We use the studio as an instrument" - but we were doing that with Brian Eno as early as 1984. It's not that we don't like what U2 does naturally; it's just that
we sometimes want to stretch what U2 can be, and where it can go.

BP: Unlike much of U2's '90s work, the new record is quite stripped-down.

AC: We came to All That You Can't Leave Behind feeling that the unique thing about U2 is the very thing we do when we get together. That sounds vague, but the idea with this record was to look at the band itself, and to realize that is our strength - that's what nobody else has. So as a consequence the songs on this record are very stripped down. Everyone simply contributed the essence of what they've always done. For my part, it was about finding what was necessary to get the song right, and not consciously looking for any "Wow!" moments. In fact, in several cases we simply kept performances that began as demos from when we began writing for this record, almost two years ago.

BP: Does past U2 music ever get in the way of new U2 music?

AC: For us there's U2 music, and then there's everything else. And between records, we listen to the stuff that interests us; we really don't listen to much U2. We're always re-establishing the fact that we share musical tastes in the same way we did 20 years ago. The music we like now may be different from what it was then, but our shared tastes give us a way of judging things we can still trust. So if everyone in the band is saying they don't like something, you know why, since you know their frame of reference. And every time we make a new U2 record, we bring along that frame of reference.

BP: What has it been like to play with Larry for over 20 years?

AC: After we'd been together a couple of years and we were doing our first record, people were talking about Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts having played together for 20 years. Everyone was saying they must really have it down - but I remember thinking, what are you talking about? At that time I didn't appreciate what they did at all. Now I appreciate it much more. When you've been playing with the same group - and particularly the same drummer - for that amount of time, you don't really need to talk too much about it; you just do it. So in some ways it's gotten simpler over time, and in some ways I'm less reverent about my parts. You don't worry as much; you just know you don't have to overplay.

BP: You still have a way with a simple part. The eighth-note line in "Beautiful Day" changes feel throughout.

AC: I'm sure it does! That's probably Larry making me sound good. When we put that track down I was actually intentionally not thinking too much about it. I wanted to just go with it, because it is really a basic eighth-note part. Sometimes when I'm playing, I get to a place where the bass seems to find its own rhythm, and then it becomes just a matter of which notes to push and which ones to hold back on. It's a discipline, really.
I once read an interview with Tony Levin where he said, "I'm a bass player - I like doing the same thing over and over again." And that's exactly it, you know? For me, that discipline comes from years and years of playing with Larry, and knowing he has a certain rhythm, and certain ways of producing his sound. Our two approaches just get mixed up into one.

BP: Are you still playing your '72 Precision?

AC: I am. It's got a bit less varnish than it once had, but it's still around. I see photographs of it from different tours, and I can see the varnish gradually wearing off. It's a really light instrument, which is fantastic, because it's got this nice brightness without losing any bottom end. I'm always changing something on it, but it's still pretty much the same instrument I've always played. I did put a Jazz neck on it very early on; I find the Jazz neck suits my left hand better. The Precision is a painful, physical thing to do battle with. The Jazz is a bit more ladylike.

BP: You've also played some odd custom basses over the years. What do you listen for in a bass?

AC: I like a clean top end that can cut through, but I also like a big,
air-moving bottom. The Precision has always given me that, so the custom basses I've used have always been selected because they complement my Precision. That big yellow thing - the banana bass - that I played on the Pop tour is a great-sounding example. It was made by Auerswald, the German guy who makes Prince's guitars.
Recently I've actually been playing Jazz Basses, though, because I've been using my fingers a lot more, and I've been after a bit more definition. I recorded the new album with two Jazz Basses - a '61 and a '72. I also used my old Gibson Les Paul Recording bass. It's a short-scale thing with this great, round bottom that just moves air. It's great in the studio.

BP: You've always blended a direct line with a miked SVT rig, but this record sounds different.

AC: This time around I was after something that sounded good at really low volume. I'd like to say it's about tone, but it might just be age [laughs]. So I recorded with an Ashdown 800 head and the matching cab with two 12s and one 15. Also, we moved around a lot in the studio this time, trying different rooms and all, so I used an Ashdown 400 4x10 combo, too. Occasionally we'd add extra bottom end with a dbx 120XP subharmonic Synthesizer - but these days I don't much. I've come to prefer the pure, clean sound of the bass. I like the physical effect of a good bass sound; that's really what it's all about. And that's why the best place to stand when you see a band is always in front of the bass rig!

BP: Which lines on the new record have this effect?

AC: "In a Little While" and "Elevation" both have that physical bass punch. I always think the bass should be much, much louder on songs like that. They're both fairly simple in terms of structure and chords, but the bottom end is moving, and that's what's beautiful. "Kite" is another line that, although it's basic, seems to really talk.

BP: After all these years, what are the best and worst things about being U2's bassist?

AC: Sometimes we get photographed a bit too much, and for the wrong kinds of papers [laughs]. You feel like saying, "I just play bass! You don't need me in your paper!" But it's a celebrity culture, and we don't suffer for it too much. We're good at hiding behind music, but sometimes people do get excited for the wrong reasons.
As for the good parts, we've got great fans. They follow us through all sorts of changes, and in many ways they encourage us to continue pursuing music that excites us. But the best thing really is that I get to hang out with three friends and musicians. And if I get stuck, in whatever way, I've got three guys who are willing and able to help. That's a great thing.
 
Thanks, Registered Dude! I love reading his insights.

It sometimes seems like Larry is too protectionist about the group, Edge is too polite and balanced on all sides, and Bono is too proud and exciteable to really just state the plain truth. Adam suffers none of these things and just says what it is.
 
Thanks, Registered Dude, that was a great interview of Adam. Here is another interview from the magazine bassplayer (see bassplayer.com)


Adam Clayton keeps the world's biggest rock band on course.

U2's Ground Control
By Brian Fox | December 2005

With an engaging frontman like Bono, a crafty guitarist like Edge, and a solid drummer like Larry Mullen Jr., you don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out how to play bass in U2: plunk eighth-notes and hold on for the ride. But there is a deeper story behind the thoughtful approach and exacting precision in Adam Clayton’s style. Streamlined and aerodynamic, Adam’s phrases are what give U2 its lift and thrust. When Edge departs mid-song to explore new ethereal melodic worlds, it’s Adam who takes the helm and steers the songs through their changes. And when there’s space to fill between Bono’s lilting lyrical phrases, Clayton’s clever little countermelodies answer the call. Whatever the tune, Adam is there with the perfect line and the perfect tone.

A kid from Dublin, Ireland who grew up listening to the Beatles, Adam is now more than 25 years into his career playing in one of pop music’s greatest bands, a group of childhood pals who combined forces to rule the music world. Part of U2’s success results from its tireless exploration of new terrain—styles as varied as punk, R&B, and electronica. But while the band may have changed sonic trajectory many times on its path, its most recent release, How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, signals a return to rock.

After two rounds of touring the world, the band recently brought its Vertigo tour back for more U.S. dates. Each night, Adam, Edge, Bono, and Larry prove that the chemistry between them is still organic, even after so many years of playing together. On one of his days off, Adam took a moment to chat about his new batch of tasty vintage gear, the U2 sound, and what it’s like to play bass in the most dynamic band on the planet.

At this point in your career, U2 has hours of material to draw from for its shows. What’s the key to putting together a great show?
We’re generally looking for fast songs. Midtempo is hell—you can’t have a log-jam of those songs. We’ll start with faster tempos and then go into something that’s slow, rather than midtempo. That’s difficult, because fast songs are much harder to write. We try to set a contour—we build the pace, then bring people back down, then power into the encore. By that time, we have a bit of license to play acoustic songs.

Do you get into a zone before taking the stage?
If I am preoccupied with other stuff before I go on, it’s not a good thing. Your emotional state before you go onstage can determine the show’s outcome, and it’s crucial to go on in the right state of mind to project confidence. I wish I could be more specific, but I just clear my head and focus.

When you’re playing, do you think about what notes you’re playing, or do you rely on muscle memory?
I think it’s a mixture of both. I can rely on muscle memory, but if I don’t make myself think about the notes, my mind wanders, and that’s not what I want in the middle of a gig.

Do you try to match the emotional vibe of each song?
Definitely. There’s an element of theater in what we do; getting into character for each song. Call it the Lee Strasberg school of musical performance. It’s knowing how to stand, how to hold the bass, and where to be on the stage. If I’m not in that character, then I’m not connecting. Maybe that’s the big difference when bands play their own songs as opposed to covers. When they’re your own songs, you have a deeper relationship with them—a way of channeling their essence.

How do you monitor yourselves onstage?
This tour is the first time I’ve used in-ear monitors. I used to think they didn’t have enough low end, and I didn’t like the idea of being totally dependent on a monitor mix. I do love the sound of acoustic drums—the way they pump and breathe—and I can’t get that with in-ears. But I get a much more accurate, well-rounded mix.

With all the time-sync’d delay and echo effects Edge uses, do you need to have a lot of him in your mix?
Larry is always locked with Edge, and sometimes it’s better for me not to hear exactly what Edge was doing, because it would put me in a different rhythmic space. I lock with Larry, and whatever Edge does fits over the top. Now that I can hear much more of Edge, I have to be careful, because I need to stick with what I am doing.

Edge has such a distinct tone, with a lot of effects. How does that influence your sound?
We used to have a rule—it’s probably a good one—that only one instrument could have an effect on it at any time. It’s usually Edge. In the early days I’d goof around with chorusing, phasing, and flanging, which I’d sometimes use as a seasoning with distortion.

What is one example of how you use effects?
The bass part on “City of Blinding Lights” is rather high up, so we need more low end to connect with the drums. So we use a Line 6 Bass POD to add a lower octave. I use the POD to give our engineer another sound to work with in the house. [See gear sidebar, page 37.]

Do you and Edge still tune down for some songs?
Yeah, that’s an old hangover from the way we used to do things. We would always tune down a half-step to give Bono a bit more headroom.

Do you also tune down so you can use more open strings?
Exactly. That’s why there are so many instrument changes during the show. I wish I could just put one bass on and play it the whole way through.

When you’re writing bass lines, do you start with an idea, or do you experiment until you find something you like?
I always have a starting point in my head. A lot of times it’s how I hear the drums. When I hear a drum part, I react instinctively: either to push against it, to go under it, or to go around it. Bass and drums need to have chemistry—to talk to each other.

Onstage, are your ears drawn to the drums first?
Yes. The drums tell me everything. Everything else registers a millisecond later.

What are you listening for in the drums?
I can’t say. Miles Davis once said that he likes driving his yellow Ferrari when he gets it up over 70 mph and it starts to hum. It’s something like that. There’s a point—and we’ve only gotten to it from playing a lot—where the forces of Larry hitting the kit and me hitting the bass mesh, and the electronics of both signals blend. Over time we’ve learned how to reach that threshold.
I’ve never really worked with other drummers. But I have done the odd recording session with other players, and none of them seems to have the right foot Larry has. There’s something about where he places the kick drum. There’s an authority to his kick; everything else sits around it. With other drummers, the rhythmic emphasis changes depending on the balance of the kick against the rest of the kit. It doesn’t seem to take Larry much effort. That’s mind-boggling to me, because playing takes me a lot of effort.

What’s the hard part of your job?
I don’t have the kind of technique that allows me to get through ideas quickly and easily. I’m instinctive when it comes to looking for a different sound. I start with the opposite of what I feel has been done before, and often that’s something I don’t find easy to play. Then, from that extreme position, I bring it back to the center and gradually refine it until it’s more normal or conventional. If you start in the obvious place, it’s very hard to get into new territory.

Do you ever try to pull yourself back from playing too much?
No. Sometimes I get a little frustrated by always playing eighth-notes. But at the end of the day, we perform songs live, and that’s what works. Eighth-notes drive the band, they’re propulsive, and they form a foundation for what Edge and Bono are doing. There are only so many different ways of doing it.

It seems like you do find different ways to play eighth-notes, for example, by using either your fingers or a pick. On “Beautiful Day,” which has a driving eighth-note line, you play with your fingers. Why?
[Laughs.] You know, Bono always wanted me to play that part with a pick, because he saw it as a more driving, percussive line. But I found it very hard to play that particular riff with a pick. I could hear it and play it with my fingers, but every time I tried it with a pick, I’d fumble. I don’t know why. Now I think that if I used a pick, it would be a little mundane, because you’d have the bass and guitar just driving the same riff, and it wouldn’t be as sexy as going under the guitar part with my fingers. I get a different physical reaction from playing with my fingers. There’s nothing quite like that contact of pulling the wires. But a song like “All Because of You” is a great tune to pick. I love that crunchiness.

On slower songs like “Sometimes You Can’t Make It on Your Own,” you’re holding long notes. When you don’t have the driving rhythm, how do you feel the groove?
That song was very problematic, because it was a midtempo tune with a descending chord sequence. I find those to be like black holes; you have to go with them! When we were working on that in the studio, Edge was changing some of the root chords to try to break it up, but it was still a descending sequence. It was frustrating, because I couldn’t get a bass part to work over it. We wanted to give it a twist, to go against the predictability and inevitability of ending up down on that F#. The end result is a hybrid. I followed the roots, and then during the playback, I noodled with a figure up around the 12th fret that could run through the whole tune. We tried using just that figure, but then we were missing the chord changes. In the end we put the two parts together. There’s no real way of playing that live, so we’ve got a sequencer that covers the roots while I play the higher melodic part. It’s a beautiful little countermelody. In many ways, that’s as much a part of what I do as the eighth-notes—I’ve always had a desire to pull some melody out, to give a little counterpoint to what’s going on.

What other bass players do you feel are really good at that?
I’ve always been hugely respectful of Peter Hook. He’s always managed to weave a melancholic, melodic thread through Joy Division and New Order. The problem is that sometimes the root isn’t there, and that’s not U2—we need the root for what we do.
I adore anything [Motown’s] James Jamerson ever played on. His playing had such feel, flair, and personality. [The Who’s John] Entwistle is on the edge of being technically too perfect for me. Sometimes it’s hard to see the humanity in that. He’s like an athlete. I’m drawn to R&B—players like Duck Dunn. I like the heaviness of those grooves, and I love those melodies.

On Boy, you played open-string drones like Peter Hook on “Out of Control” and “The Electric Co.”
Early on, we didn’t have very good equipment, and the bass was rarely in the PA. So I always figured if two strings were going instead of one, you get a bit more volume. Also, at the time Edge was playing very minimal guitar melodies, and this was a way of getting more power into those songs. That was great for what we were, which was essentially a three-piece band.

How did that fact affect your own playing?
I’m so grateful we never had a keyboard player until much later, because keyboards just cover everything up. With just Edge and Larry, if there was real estate that wasn’t being exploited, it was very obvious. It produced an economy in my early playing, but it also produced an atmosphere of risk—to try and get something else happening in that space.

But part of the U2 sound is that openness.
Sometimes it’s a big decision to say, You know what, I am just going to do boom–boom here, and nothing else. I’m much more comfortable doing that now than I was back then, where everything had to count. Like “Vertigo,” which is just a riff with nothing else going on: It’s a pure situation; it’s perfect.

Yet you have your own way of phrasing that line.
Those are the things that as a bass player, when you come upon something like that riff, you go, Oh—I can make this a bass part rather than a guitar part. And I think they make a difference. It gives it a bit more dimension.

Do you get emotionally attached to the instruments you play?
Not really. I have a ’73 Precision Bass that I’ve used since day one. I used to think, This is the old work horse—old faithful. I loved it. I still love it, and I play it all the time, but I try to branch out and play different instruments. I’m not so attached to any of the others. I’ll play them for a bit and then move on. But there’s an amazing difference with vintage basses compared to regular stock instruments. I love finding instruments that have had a life before you got them. They bring something to you.
I have an short-scale Gibson Les Paul Recording Bass from the ’70s. I don’t know what it is about this one—it’s a very inspiring instrument. The strings very rarely get changed, and I haven’t changed the way it’s set up since I bought it. But I always have it sitting around the studio. When I put it on, I always go somewhere with it, playing little melodies. That’s what I used to play the countermelody on “Sometimes You Can’t Make It on Your Own.”

What do you look for in basses?
I love bottom end—I’m a low-end junkie. But for these kinds of shows, and for being in a rock band, I need a bit of swagger—the sound Entwistle and [the Stranglers’] J.J. Brunell used to get, where the bass is strong on the upper mids, warm and throaty. I don’t like too much high end—high end hurts me. Especially back when we were experimenting with the dance club sound, I was looking for a big bottom end. I wanted to really get underneath everything.

Is the band conscious of having “a sound”?
Yeah, I think we are, but not because we want to remain true to that—we want to know how far from it we can go. We really push ideas to their extreme to find different sounds. Then, once we’re aware of the different possibilities, we ask what represents us and where we are coming from.

Are you guys usually on the same page when it comes to that?
Usually. Sometimes there’s a bit of a struggle for everyone to agree, but generally, if one person doesn’t agree, they then defer to the other three. It’s quite a good process of protecting the band’s ability to make decisions.
I sometimes feel we’re always making the same record, and what we get at the end of that is a distillation of what’s gone on in our lives up to that period. This is a very complete record. And it’s very fresh, because a lot of the tunes—although we’d worked on them a long time in the writing phase—were tracked very quickly without many overdubs. It’s very direct.

Along with several other producers, Daniel Lanois and Steve Lillywhite worked with you on this album. What are some of their strengths?
Danny’s a music guy—he’s great at making musicians feel comfortable, helping them get to a place where they produce something that has resonance. That’s needed, because quite often we’re not grounded in the studio—we’re up in the air emotionally and intellectually. Steve is great at knowing what the band is capable of and pointing out when we’re not doing our best. Plus, he’s tireless.

How have you progressed as a musician and bass player over the years?
Sometimes I don’t feel like I’ve progressed very much. But I do feel that in the last couple years, there’s a precision that’s come into my playing that wasn’t there before. Sometimes I’m not sure if that economy is growth or atrophy. But Edge always says that notes sound different when I play them. I guess that’s it—without thinking, I just know which notes to play, how hard to hit them, and how long to hold them. Now I just make better decisions more quickly. What I do is probably not that extraordinary or unusual—I’m sure somebody else could do it. But they would make different choices. In the end, it’s just personality.
 
Back
Top Bottom