Chris Isaak freaks about music
by Michelle Nikolai

Chris Isaak is backstage in a dressing room at the historic Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, the "Mother Church of Country Music." Looking a little tired, and dressed in a customized black rodeo-style shirt from Jaime Custom Tailoring and Western Wear, he immediately perks up when he talks about his admiration for the hallowed venue in which he's about to play [the Ryman was home to Grand Ole Opry from 1943 to 1974]. He once met Stonewall Jackson, a longtime star of the Opry while he was in town.

"Playing the Ryman is a lot of fun. My older brother came and we sang 'Don't Be Angry,' Stonewall's big hit in the '50s," Isaak recalls. "He was a real nice man and real nice to me, and just singing that onstage here makes me feel like . . . this place means a lot to me.

"If I could buy a ticket to every one of the shows that have been here, and I had to pay $1,000 a ticket, I think I'd spend a couple of million bucks if I could sit back and watch those shows. Hell, I can think of shows that I'd spend $50,000 or $100,000 to see - that's how much I love that stuff. Everybody's got something they freak about - mine is music," he says with reverence.

Perhaps he'd spend that kind of money to see Elvis, who played the Opry just once in 1954. Tonight, though, he'll settle to have Lisa Marie Presley open for him. The King's daughter has been his opening act throughout the summer, and the irony isn't lost on him - "I'm one of a handful of people who've had a Presley open," he chuckles. "Everybody knows that she's rock and roll royalty, and I too, like everybody else, we owe respect to that family, because we wouldn't be here without him."

The irony is that Isaak's performance style is often compared to Elvis's, and he plays a Gibson guitar with that same swagger. Whereas Elvis often played a J-200 onstage, Isaak strums a white Custom ES-345 with Bigsby vibrato and Varitone. Gibson introduced the Varitone five-way tone control in 1959 on the ES-345. Isaak made some small changes to his instrument to suit his playing style, which he says is more basic: "It's just me whooping and banging on it," he says. "It's a nice, primitive balance - I have a really good guitar player and then there's me.

"I think [the ES-345] is a nice guitar for a lot of people, whether you're beginning to be serious, or if you had a little band and are playing everything from country to rockabilly to God knows what," Isaak comments. "I try to keep it simple like that, I like Chevys, and I like stuff that works day after day and doesn't have a lot of bells and whistles you don't need, but just has stuff you do need. When you're onstage, you can't fool around - it's kinda gotta be on or off, that kind of thing."

Guitar aficionados can looks forward to the Chris Isaak Signature ES-345 model in 2004.

Isaak's first good guitar was a Silvertone, the name he later dubbed his band, which now includes Hershel Yatovitz on guitar (he plays a Gibson J-180, among other guitars), Rowland Salley on bass and Kenney Dale Johnson on drums and backing vocals. He later got a Gretsch 6120, and then he started playing Gibsons. He likes the Chet Atkins Country Gentleman, but his J-200 is the one he keeps by his bedside and plays as he falls asleep at night, which is also his prime time for writing. "You play until you get real tired, and then the last thing you do is lay your guitar down and pass out," he explains.

He is always writing songs, he says, but can't sing too much when he's out on the road. He carries a guitar and paper, and he finds his inspiration everywhere - even in a hotel room bar of Western Pride soap, the impetus for his song "Western Stars" from his 1985 debut album Silvertone. The soaring ballad was covered by k.d. lang on her album Shadowland, which was produced by the legendary Owen Bradley: "Western stars light up the sky/Hear the desert wind roll by tonight/Western stars can break your heart/They keep shining when we're apart tonight/I watch, I wait, how long will my heart ache tonight?/I watch, I wait, my heart is bound to break tonight."

"There's plenty of inspiration out there, it just depends on whether people are in the mood to be inspired," Isaak comments.

His soft-spoken backstage demeanor is a contrast to the affable, quirky persona that he deadpans on "The Chris Isaak Show," his program on the Showtime cable network. Isaak is a study in contradictions - the seemingly easygoing guy who writes haunting, melancholy love songs that stay with you for days; the self-deprecating comedian from TV. He has opted out of a fourth season of his show, saying he's tired from the grueling, often 16-hour long days it takes to put it together. He wants to work on a new album and tour, as well as do more film work.

"Acting is an accoutrement; it helps people to hear about my music. But, if someone's willing to pay me not to act, I'd take it," he quips wryly.

He says his favorite role, thus far, is from "The Chris Isaak Show." "I could always tell them, I won't do that, Chris Isaak wouldn't do this. They couldn't argue with you.

"I like comedies, because it's more important for people to laugh. That's fun if people can laugh at you on the screen."

Tonight at the Ryman, Isaak is all about the music. His suits are a testament to the Nudie Cohn-era of country and western chic [Jaime was Nudie's apprentice]. He spins his J-200 - which has his name on the front - to the back, revealing "Thanks a lot" in taped-on white letters. He is a charismatic performer, swiveling his hips and crooning his atmospheric songs like the great idols of yesteryear. Later in his show, he walks on the Ryman stage decked out in ultimate kitsch - a disco mirror-ball suit - and stands on a spinning disc strumming a Gibson ES-295, so dazzling that he blinds the audience momentarily, who laugh and cheer and clap their hands. This is rock 'n roll, and everybody is along for the ride.