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The Good Humor Man

The legendary Arthur Lee on life, Love, Hendrix, and Tom Hanks' forehead.

Laura Cassidy

Published on July 24, 2002

LOVE WITH ARTHUR LEE
STEW
Experience Music Project, Sky Church, 770-2702, $19
8 p.m. Sun., July 28

Arthur Lee doesn't fuck around.

Make no mistake, life has fucked around plenty with Arthur Lee. But Arthur Lee isn't fucking around with life. He won't plea bargain, suffer fools gladly, or play by anyone's rules but his own. He has no desire to rehash the past or field any questions about guns, drugs, or his recent release from jail. And he doesn't speak to journalists in—where, Seattle?—for any longer than 10 minutes.

As leader of Sunset Strip psych-pop legends Love, Lee has long been regarded as an enigmatic and difficult musical genius.

The band's string of mid-'60s albums—Love, DaCapo, and, especially, Forever Changes—are consistently ranked alongside those of the Beatles and Beach Boys as the greatest records of all time. That was all 35 years ago, though, and Lee doesn't particularly feel like talking about that either.

But for some reason, Arthur Lee and I end up spending the better part of the afternoon on the phone together. We do talk about guns, drugs, and prison. We talk about Jimi Hendrix and the Rolling Stones and Charlie Parker. We talk about the old records and rumors. We talk about Hollywood and homelessness and Jesus being a black man. In fact, there is very little that we don't talk about.

As a conversationalist Lee is contradictory and unpredictable, funny and often deeply emotional. But for every tangent he goes on, for every turn he takes, no matter what old alleyway he disappears down, he always returns with the same conclusion: None of that shit matters. It's all bullshit. It's about the show, about the songs. Don't you understand? Don't you get it? It's about the music.

Only it's not just about the music. Not when you've been unfairly prosecuted—Lee was sentenced to 12 years after violating California's three strikes law for a minor firearms offense; he served six. Not when success in your native country has always been tagged with the "underground" qualifier. Not when stories circulate about you that are scandalous and often untrue.

So we talk about all of it, every last bit.

Arthur Lee is first and foremost a self- assured, vainglorious character:

"I don't give a damn if you say I'm a junkie or a punkie or a dog or a cat. I don't care."

"I damn near created rock music."

"I found out it's not wise for people to talk about religion and politics. It's not wise for an entertainer to do that. But the thing about it is, I don't give a fuck."

But he's also random, hilarious, and willing to talk shit with the best of them. Especially if the subject is today's stars:

"If you want to exercise or lose weight, go see 'N Sync or Britney Spear [sic] or that Michael Jackson's sister who changed her nose."

The Lizard King:

"Jim Morrison wanted to be me. He went overboard, as far as I'm concerned, with how high he thought I was onstage and trying to be like me . . . he was just a poor soul."

America's favorite leading man:

"Tom Hanks? He's a good actor, but he's got a pretty big forehead."

"The King of Pop":

"Michael Jackson? He gave himself the title of King of Pop. He's a great entertainer, but how many times do you want to see the moonwalk? The King of Pop? The King of Pop? What popsicle? If there was one question I could ask Michael Jackson, it'd be a short question: 'What the fuck are you doing?'"

He's also partial to deflating other royal celebrity egos:

"I'm just sorry that Elvis Presley actually thought he was king. Because there are no fucking kings in this world. The only king there is, is God."

Mostly, he's just plain honest, especially when it comes to his music and the new version of Love, featuring members of L.A.'s Baby Lemonade:

"I'll tell you what: This is the best band I've ever had. I've got a full orchestra that sounds exactly like Forever Changes. I planned on retiring when I was 21 years old. And 35 years later, my records [rate higher] than the Beach Boys and Sgt. Pepper's. Those guys are all right. The Beatles were my heroes. The Rolling Stones were my heroes. Beethoven was surely my hero. Jackie Wilson. Charlie Parker was the greatest musician I ever heard in my life. What he did with that instrument—I've never heard anything like it. Except, of course, the songs I've written."

Make that brutally honest, particularly where the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds is concerned:

"Sgt. Pepper and all of that; the Beatles with their fancy hair—they were my heroes. I don't know if they stole from me or if I stole from them, but I haven't written a lyric that has anything to do with Sgt. Pepper; and I sure haven't written anything that had anything to do with that stupid shit the Beach Boys did—that Pet Rock or whatever. But we're the top three, according to the critics. I don't like rap music; I surely don't like Pet Rock. I do love Sgt. Pepper."



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