IT has been three years since his last album, Age Of Miracles, but Chuck Prophet hasn’t exactly been sitting around.

For one thing, there’s his own new album, possibly his best, called Soap And Water.

He has also produced a new album from Kelly Willis (“We jumped off some cliffs together!”), reformed and toured Europe with his former band Green On Red, collaborated with Alejandro Escovedo an a new album, made his big screen acting debut in a film called Revolution Summer, and worked on the soundtrack of the Sundance Film Festival hit, Teeth.

Surprisingly, then, Chuck talks of a “crisis of faith” after Age Of Miracles.

“We toured for a month too long with that record,” he contends. His current touring band, though, which he’ll be bringing to Club Academy this weekend, is, he enthuses, “lighter on their feet than any band I’ve worked with before”.

Speaking of which, a lot of people were surprised when alt-country rockers Green On Red reformed a few months back “It took us by surprise too,” he laughs.

“I suppose we did it as a kind of dare, but I was surprised, I think we all were, at the ease with which it came together. Might we do it again? I wouldn’t be against it at all.”

The project with Alejandro Escovedo also “just sort of happened. He asked me down one weekend to try writing some songs together and we’ve ended up writing a whole record.

“It’s sort of like our joint musical biography. There’s a lot of real characters in there.”

Chuck Prophet knows he sounds corny when talks about what music has done for him. But he says it anyway.

“(Music) kind of saved me,” he said. “So much of who I am is wrapped up in it.”

Prophet left Tucson, Ariz., Tuesday morning after a reunion show with his old band, Green on Red, who made records for eight years in the 80s. But while there, catching up with people who used to be part of the music scene, he saw what had happened to them over the past two decades.

So many of his friends looked zombified. Prophet used the phrase “dope fiend” to describe some.

“There’s a whole lost generation,” he said.

In 1990, he started off his solo singer/songwriter career playing Dylan-esque rock ?n’ roll blended with blues and country. Investing himself in his music kept him off the streets.

“It kept me interested in what I was doing enough to have something to focus my energy on,” said Prophet. “It helped me when I cleaned up.”

Now his music brings him to the Lafayette Brew Company, where he’s performing at 7:30 p.m. on Sunday.

Prophet said the crowd can expect some “juvenile rock ?n’ roll, some real tear-jerkers ... some ugly lies and some beautiful truths all wrapped up in a five piece band.”

He added, “There’s an overall sense of irony to what I do ... as well as some dead on, unflinching, straight up, blood-stained, diary kind of songs.”

The show is presented by Friends of Bob. Singer/songwriter Sally Timms is also performing.

Richard Fudge, president of the group, said that Prophet is a show that he’s personally excited to bring to Lafayette.

“If I were to list my top five favorite performers, Chuck Prophet would be in there,” said Fudge. “It’s exciting to bring somebody to town that you feel pretty sure people are going to be dazzled by.”

Prophet said he looks forward to live shows because they are never static. And while he says there’s more important things in the world than music, music makes him who he is, it connects him to people through his shows or albums, and Prophet recognizes this. His work in music has given him so much over his almost quarter decade career.

“I always found that whatever I put into music, I always got that much more back.”

One of my favorite loopy local SF characters, not to mention fine and friendly songsmith of no small renown, has been Chuck Prophet. I’ve known him on and off for years, from bullshitting in under the influence in the dark backrooms of bars & under the flourescence at the local copy shops, to riding rollercoasters both real and imagined… Uh, I guess you could say, what a long strange trip it’s been…

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Someone really should have told me about Chuck Prophet. I mean, anybody making music this fucking outstanding doesn’t deserve to fly under anybody’s radar, least of all mine. His music is practically perfect for my particular tastes: well-crafted songs composed by a songwriter (in the truest sense of the word), sung by a country singer (at heart) but produced with an ear to what’s going on in the rest of the musical world as well. Over the course of his 2004 near-masterpiece, Age Of Miracles, Prophet comes off as a less willfully eclectic (and therefore more enjoyable) Beck, living with one foot a little bit deeper in country music than Mr. Hansen would probably consider cool. Actually, he’s kind of like the guy I posted on yesterday in the way he takes the arms and legs of different styles and comes up with his own hideously beautiful beast. I think his press sheet sums it up best: “...a world where Dr. Dre and Charlie Feathers would both feel comfortable.” That’s brilliant man, that’s exactly right.

I picked up Age Of Miracles as an impulse buy (read: I liked the cover art) about a week or so ago and I have not been able to stop listening or wishing I was listening to it since. I guess I had heard Prophet’s name before, but I’m taking the pat on the back for introducing myself to his music. Good job bak, you really outdid yourself this time! Now turn to the people at home and let them hear what all the fuss is about. Listen people, you need to hear these songs:

Chuck Prophet - “Age Of Miracles”

Chuck Prophet - “Pin A Rose On Me”

Chuck Prophet - “West Memphis Moon”

Age Of Miracles is good enough to be a greatest hits album, except for the little fact that none of the songs can honestly be called hits and it’s more cohesive than most compilations. Actually, it’s better than most people’s greatest hits albums. “Age Of Miracles” and “Pin A Rose On Me” are two of the best songs on the album, but I would’ve liked to post “You Did (Bomp Shooby Dooby Bomp)” rather than “West Memphis Moon”. “You Did” is a hell of a lot more fun and it features his best incorporation of samples and hip-hop elements, plus it’s one of the songs on repeat in my head these days. Whatever, it doesn’t matter, every song on the album is good and these are the songs that New West Records has kindly made available. Damn you New West, you really think I needed one more person’s entire back catalogue to hunt down!?! Now how am I gonna eat this month?

Pay a visit to Chuck’s website for more information and stuff, like tour dates. Man, I bet these songs are a blast live, but I don’t think I can justify driving back to Denver for another show.

The cover of Chuck Prophet’s latest album, “Age of Miracles” is a William Eggleston photo of a young woman holding a vintage camera sprawled across a patch of grass. The box camera image is repeated in the accompanying CD booklet.

Some sort of artistic statement?

Not really.

“To be perfectly honest, I didn’t have an album title,” says Prophet, noting his affinity for Eggleston’s work. “When I finished the record, when I stood back and squinted a little bit and knew I would have to invent some lies for the bio, I realized there was a kind of a theme running through it, this retro-nuevo general crankiness with technology, and technology not really improving our quality.”

Prophet, who visits the South Side’s Club Cafe on Friday, says he was a bit nervous about applying this theme because it’s been overdone.

He shouldn’t have worried. “Age of Miracles” continues the San Francisco-based musician’s run of superlative releases that dates to 1999’s “The Hurting Business” and includes “No Other Love,” released in 2002. Along with “Age of Miracles,” the discs share a sense of adventure as Prophet seamlessly combines rock, soul, blues, hip-hop and other forms.

Critics and writers often remark on his ability to “mash” or “synthesize” genres; Prophet says he’s sometimes bothered that form seems to be more interesting than content.

“But I can’t help but wonder, in a perverted way, what Meredith Brooks and Burgess Meredith might do if you put them together,” he says with a laugh. “Or what Jimi Hendrix would do if you brought him back from the dead and said ‘Hey Jimi, you might want to check this out, it’s called a Casiotone. This part here you can get a beat going and with your fingers here you can play chords on these buttons and over here you can play melody.’ You just make something up and want to record it. Because inevitably, it would be more interesting than the conventional way that people make records. I guess that’s my own perverted way of keeping myself interested. I don’t think you need an owner’s manual to get through the record.”

He’s right; all that’s truly required is an appreciation of music. Whether it’s the melancholic “Pin a Rose on Me,” the playful electronic pop of “You Did (Bomp Shooby Dooby Bomp)”—a song that asks “who put the ram in the ram a lama ding dong?”—or the wistful title track, Prophet has a knack for creating memorable melodies.

He especially excels at painting the lyrical details: the “extra-special shoes” for “The Smallest Man in the World,” or the itinerary of “Just to See You Smile” in which the narrator walks “20 blocks to your favorite bakery” in order to surprise his lover with her “favorite treat.”

“I have my own value system, the things that I think that are worth wrestling into the form of a song,” he says. “And it changes, because you have to keep yourself interested in what you’re doing, musically and thematically. And to keep yourself interested, sometimes you’ll discard things if they have a certain familiarity. If I had any more songs about lonely motel room’s on life’s highway, it’s not interesting to wrestle with anymore. I’ll just discard it.”

Prophet admits to being disenchanted with his music when he’s finished recording an album. It’s only when he gets a chance to hear it in an unfamiliar environment—a record store or somebody else’s home—that he reconciles with his art.

“It’s a lot like honking your horn in a tunnel and waiting for it to get you off,” he says. “Sometimes, it just doesn’t get you off. Sometimes, it’s just not so cool anymore. You just wait to hear it bounce off the walls and come back at you.”

Lynagh’s was launch pad for cinematic-style singer

There’s a song on Chuck Prophet’s new album, Age of Miracles, called West Memphis Moon that tells you all you need to know about how effortlessly the San Francisco songsmith blends story and style.

The lyrics outline a murder mystery, the tale of a self-described “walking razor blade” detailed in misty shades of black and white. But the accompanying sounds couldn’t be more colorful: hand claps, vintage keyboard orchestration and washes of wah-wah guitar. Suddenly the song’s sense of fleeting menace is big enough to fill a movie screen.

“Actually, I cast a song like a movie,” Prophet said by phone last week. “Every one is different. I work out an arrangement more than most rock guys. But I also like to think I keep my ears open for any kind of strange collisions or accidents that might happen. I like to be well-prepared but remain willing to adapt and improvise. A song, to me, is a way of getting behind an idea and pushing it forward.”

Lexington has been lucky enough to watch Prophet’s musical movies unfold with a series of performances that began at the now-defunct Lynagh’s after the release of 2000’s The Hurting Business. He returns to town Thursday.

Prophet’s early solo records took directions he never considered. Literally. They were released mostly through overseas labels, which meant he performed more in Europe. The Hurting Business increased his stateside notoriety as well as domestic distribution for his music. Lexington soon became one the first touring destinations to champion Prophet’s earthy mix of twang, pop and cinematic-style rock ‘n’ roll.

“Around the time of The Hurting Business, I got a manager,” Prophet said. “We decided it would be a good idea to get a booking agent and a van. That’s when places like Lynagh’s became early anchors for us.”

Popularity for Prophet’s music has mounted since then. The breezy pop single Summertime Thing became a surprise radio hit in 2002. Tours with Lucinda Williams and, more recently, the Old 97s followed. And in June, a version of the title track to his album No Other Love was released by, of all bands, Heart.

“Sometimes I still have a low-level anxiety about where the next song is coming from,” he said. “But I feel more committed to what we’re doing now more than ever. I feel I’m just getting started.”

FORMER GREEN ON RED SONGSTER STAGES STUDIO VERSION OF THE SURREAL LIFE

When Chuck Prophet inadvertently scored a left-field Americana radio hit with his catchy tune Summertime Thing from 2002’s No Other Love (New West), there was some concern that the former Green on Red guitarist might have found his true pop calling and decided to cash in his cult credentials for good.

But listening to Prophet’s just-released Age Of Miracles (New West), on which he tries to rap his way through a cockeyed answer song to Who Put The Bomp? – appropriately called You Did (Bomp Shooby Dooby Bomp) – it’s apparent that some people are just destined to be outsiders.

Anyone can have a fluke hit, but it takes a real fringe artist to squander that rare moment in the spotlight. Soon the cash windfall will be blown and he or she will be back to weirdness as usual. For Prophet, that means assembling a seemingly unconnected cast of creative collaborators – anyone from Kim “Bette Davis Eyes” Carnes to Consolidated’s Mark Pistel – and just letting the music happen. It’s kind of like the Surreal Life approach to record-making.

“I read this interview with filmmaker David Mamet where he was saying how he likes to get together a cast of actors he’s worked with before – even though they may not have worked with each other. That way, he doesn’t need to pass around an owner’s manual. They all know what’s expected. Then he’ll throw in a few blind dates. It seemed like a good idea.

“That’s how I cast my recording sessions now. I’ll call on some old friends so I know we’ll understand each other, and then I’ll bring in a couple of wild cards to fuck with shit and, you know, liven up the party a little bit.”

Having certified eccentric Captain Beefheart alum Eric Drew Feldman come in and give things a tweak certainly didn’t hurt.

It’s interesting to note that over the course of his seven albums since going solo in 90, the frequency of Prophet’s collaborations – particularly on songwriting – seems to have increased since he gave up alcohol. Prophet claims it’s not at all a coincidence.

“Since I quit drinking and cleaned up my act, co-writing has replaced the social life I gave up. Some people are really private about writing songs and try to preserve the mystery and magic of it all, but there are others, like, say, Dan Penn, who believe it’s easier for two people to perform the miracle. I can appreciate both ways of working, and there are advantages to each.”

Prophet’s partnership with Southern soul poet Penn – the man behind Dark End Of the Street, You Left The Water Running, Do Right Woman, Out Of Left Field and countless other timeless classics – led to the understatedly elegant A Heavy Duty, a highlight on Prophet’s new disc.

“When I started going to Nashville to try my hand at Music Row songwriting, I got a gig at the Bluebird Cafe that I didn’t realize was on the same night as the CMAs. Only three people showed up – the bartender, the sound man and Dan Penn. We’ve been writing together ever since.

“Somebody might call up Dan saying, ‘We need you to write a song for Solomon Burke.’ And then we’ll start by just talking. He’ll say, ‘You know, Chuck, when Solomon gives you his word, he’ll stick by it, he’s a man of in-teg-ri-tay! The song we wrote for Solomon, I Need A Holiday, was recorded for Don’t Give Up On Me, but unfortunately, it didn’t make the cut.”

They had better luck placing Penn’s vocal take on A Heavy Duty on the second volume of the Country Got Soul (Casual) blue-eyed soul compilation.

“Someone from the Casual label called up Dan asking for a song, and he sent them a bunch. They wound up choosing A Heavy Duty, which is really just Dan playing guitar and singing and me doing everything else.

“We’ve got a load of songs recorded the same way. There’s probably enough for an album if someone wanted to put it out. Hey, I’d buy it.”

That makes two of us.

Chuck Prophet may be best described as a new traditionalist - or a traditionalist for the 21st century. He works happily within the constructs of American roots music’s structures and sounds, but sets them on their ears with clanking, roiling rhythm sections and lyrics that sketch images in bold outline but leave the details blurry. With his considerable guitar skills, murky grooves and growling delivery, Prophet can twist a conventional song into a gritty, hungover animal that will let you pet it, but may bite your hand off if you ain’t careful. The artist who cut his teeth as guitarist for Green on Red in the ‘80s has grown, over the past decade, into a formidable writer with a distinct vision. As he tells The Rage, ‘The challenge is that you want songs to make sense, you just don’t want ‘em to make too much sense. So, there’s a slightly abstract expressionist approach to it.’

And expressionist he is on his sixth and most recent solo release, No Other Love. With 11 snarling, swooning songs and a no-b.s. delivery, Prophet is at his finest. The sonic corners of the record are filled (but not overstuffed) with wonderfully skewed details - tape recorders, omnichords and accordions peer out from the shadows. ‘For me,’ Prophet explains, ‘records are defined by things like the theremin at the beginning of Good Vibrations or the fuzz guitar on Satisfaction or the fact that somebody was smart enough to tell Roger Daltrey to stutter when he sang My Generation. Those are the little things.’ Laughing, he adds, ‘Sometimes they just appear, other times you gotta go around with a flashlight in the dark looking for them.’

With his gruff delivery calling to mind Greg Brown and hinting at Tom Waits, Prophet’s lyrics are especially effective. At his most tender, Prophet still comes off rough and ready. He also shares much in common with Lucinda Williams, for whom he opens at the debut Miller Lite Uptown Mix on Wednesday, July 3. Both artists manage to be simultaneously conversational and otherworldly in phrasing and in lyrical content. As Prophet explains, ‘I’m a traditionalist at heart in terms of songwriting. I’m a verse/chorus/verse/chorus kind of guy. The challenge for me has always been finding new ways to turn it sideways. My songwriting heroes are still gonna be Carole King, Dan Penn, Hank Williams. But it’s interesting, in a lot of modern music like DJ Shadow or even Moby, how they’ve sort of thrown a lot of traditional structure out the window. I like that from a distance, but I guess that’s the challenge, to find ways to turn verse/chorus/verse/chorus/bridge inside out a little.’

Although Prophet consistently overcomes that challenge, it’s not always easy. ‘For me, right around the middle of [making] the record I feel like one of those Goya etchings with bats coming out of my head. This record was no different. Individual songs ... some of them are more stubborn than others. Some, you try to wrestle to the ground and they end up wrestling you to the ground. Some come on the first take, and others you gotta put them up on blocks and rotate the tires and you gotta cut them 10 times.’

Now the songs that compose No Other Love are back off the blocks and on the road, which is where Prophet, partner and collaborator Stephanie Finch and Prophet’s exceptional band pretty much stay. That’s the strategy for the year, Prophet says. ‘The plan is to go out and play and see where it takes us. Play every last f—king burg and city that’ll have us, and most of ‘em twice.’

After years on the margins of rock’n'roll stardom, Chuck Prophet just might have made the record to break him in the mainstream. Michael Leonard quizes the contrary Californian on cheap guitars, sacking bands and, erm, Frank Sinatra’s trem technique ...

‘If someone tells me to breathe. I’ll hold my breath. If everyone else goes left, I’ll go right ...’ even if there were a manual on being a rock’n'roll star, Chuck Prophet would not read it.

Over the space of ten years and 11 albums, Prophet has made good enough music to embarrass many of his peers yet he remains permanently on the bench in the mainstream league. Maybe as he suggests, he spurns his chances by refusing to play by the rules; maybe the talent scouts have lost their touch. Typically, Prophet doesn’t think that should stop him getting in the team.

‘I do care about record sales, y’know, and this “beautiful loser” image that I have offends me a bit to tell you the truth, I don’t slack with what I’m doing, I’m really trying to make records that hold up against the albums that I like, I want to sell, but doing something genuine, first rate and honest doesn’t really equate with sales. I don’t know if I’m happy with many of my records though. Playing live is where you get to kick the songs around. A record’s just a fuckin’ record.’

Therein, prehaps, lies the rub. Throughout his tenure as one half of Green On Red (with Dan Stuart) and as a three album-strong solo artist, the best place to see Chuck Prophet has alweays been the live stage. Green On Red seemed forever at war with themselves but were always capable of delivering the odd sucker-punch live show. Their albums - a stew of diseased country blues, raw R&B and drunken, after-hours ballads - were hit and miss in the extreme. ‘Genuine and honest’ they always were, but first rate? Even Prophet has quipped that the only thing he learned in Green On Red was ‘how to drink lying down and sleep sitting up’. 1989’s Here Come The Snakes, recorded with Stones and Cooder collaborator Jim Dickinson, stands out even now and even nudged GOR starwards; but then, despite the consecutive guiding hands of Glyn Johns (This Time Around) and Al Kooper (Scapegoats) they blew it. In 1992, Green On Red went on permanent strike.

However, all is not lost. Feast Of Hearts, the follow-up to ‘93’s Balinese Dancer, is Chuck Prophet’s second excellent solo album in three years: the boy’s starting to show a good run of form…

Feast Of Hearts was recorded in California with Los Lobos producer Steve Berlin providing some guidance and, notably, Cracker rhythm section Michael Urbano and Davey Gallagher providing some backbone.

‘I’d met Michael before,’ explains Prophet of his hook-up with ascendent alternative rockers. ‘I have this method of working where I don’t really do demos, I just get my song notebook, go and sit with three people or so in a circle and just start throwing songs out. Michael was there one time, had a pretty good feel and he recommended Davey for bass. It was cool ‘cos I usually go for the regular suspects, the people I’ve used before. You get familiarity that way and people come to understand all my quirks so I don’t have to pass out the manual to explain myself too often… but when it gets too comfortable it doesn’t have that conversational thing you get from people discovering each other.

‘Unfortunately, making records usually ends in grief. When you make records you have this grandiose vision and little by little you let things go. Tom Waits describes it as that fairground game where you have the two levers and the mechanical claw - you’re reaching for the gold watch and you end up pulling the plastic spider ring. Making a record’s just like that - you always end up with something to the left or the right. And it’s a quite intimate thinig and my philosophy is to keep it like a blind date to keep it fresh. Every time, you should look out for some fresh meat, heh heh!’ ‘Discovery’ is another Prophet principle. Whilst his music certainly isn’t iconoclastic, he’ll happily break up bands and start again at the first hint of a rut.

‘A great sense of phrasing is a major part of musical talent. I’d like to put a Strat with a whammy bar in Frank Sinatra’s lap and see how he jams. I reckon Frank’d he pretty cool!

‘Green On Red had some pretty dysfunctional bands,’ he admits (without dwelling on their Spinal Tap-esque turnover of drummers), ‘but that was just our way of keeping ourselves interested. It’s the same thing with me. If it was going real smooth with Green On Red it’d always get shaken up, either by other people or half the time by us. After a year or so with the same band we couldn’t resist the temptation to bring in strangers and fuck around with the songs. I guess I’m the same. I would like to put together a full-time band but uhh… it’s a little hard to find a band these days that’s untouched by all the crazy stuff. I’d ideally like to have a dysfunctional outfit like Crazy Horse or somethin’- it’s harder to do that these days.

‘But playing live with different people and keeping things fresh is what this game’s all about. I mean, I didn’t get into music to play by myself or plan a “career”, I got into into it ‘cos it’s a great way of communicating. It’s like a secret language! - no-one says anything, but you put your fingers here, you put your fingers there, and suddenly you’re communicating with this big noise. It’s a weird thing - sometimes on stage I feel like there’s something going on that’s beyond music, but I don’t think everyone realises or can hear that…’

Prophet’s approach to his muse couldn’t be much less academic, and he’ll spend studio tinie not in searh of the perfect take but of the Happy accidents, what Keith Richards calls ‘the beautiful fuck-ups’. He has a habit of referring to Green On Red as idiot savants, and he loves Beck because ‘he’s kinda like a musical dyslexic - everything’s there but it’s in this weird code, y’know? He looks in all the nooks and crannies of a song, and he takes a very slanted view. Beck’s just awesome.

‘Originally, I took a lot of inspiration from the punk scene in San Francisco, even though - or perhaps because - I couldn’t really play. There were just lots of creative, nutty people going out there and doing things. You’d just sit around with people, write some songs, show up at some place and borrow the equipment and make some noise. It wasn’t industry-driven, it was subversive. That’s what inspired me to write songs. I feel sorry for people today who just don’t have that. I don’t know if that exists in music anymore. Maybe the stage or drama is more like that but, of course, none of those people can get arrested. There’s probably some great work goin’ on out there but you’re going to have to read a whole lot of magazines to know about it. Rock’n'roll is easier to digest; people love reading about it for some reason and you can learn about the “proper” way to do things before you’ve even started. These days, people are fuckin’ process freaks - they love the documentary on the making of the movie more than the movie itself.’

Although Feast Of Hearts’ carries further evidence of Prophet’s stellar Tele twanging, it hoards even more impressive glimpses of a talent completely underutilised in Green On Red - his fast maturing voice. A resonant, tobacco-stained drawl, it’s been described as ‘Tom Waits without the cartoon element or Robbie Robertson if he could carry a tune’. Perhaps surprisingly given his geetar prowess, Prophet claims to be a fan of singers first and foremost.

‘To be honest, I figure I might have actually played another instrument than guitar - piano, drums, anything. But it’s a little late now. But most of my favoufite singers have, a great sense of phrasing which I think is a major part of musical talent, and if they’d picked up a guitar it’d be pretty interesting too. I I love the way Tom Waits sings and plays piano and guitar. And Keith Richards is a great singer, I love him! I’d like to put a Strat. with a whammy bar in Frank Sinatra’s lap and see how he jams. I reckon Frank’d be pretty cool! Yeah…’

It follows that Chuck’s unconvinced that guitar can be taught with any particular success. Not that it’s just the fault of the teacher and pupil…

‘It’s a problem with guitars man! The guitar’s a weird instrument; it’s a European instrument and the way things have evolved has been weird. Chuck Berry-style rhythm guitar is hard to play unless you’ve got big hands - but that’s ‘cos Chuck was trying to play something a piano player should be doin’ on an instrument designed for playing fuckin’ Segovia. My advice is put your guitar in open tuning, though, then it all makes sense. Open G - those strings just ring out man, just move your fingers up and down and you’re flying!’

And was this tuning revelation, as for the Black Crowes Rich Robinson, of Road To Dasmascus dimensions?

‘Err, well yeah, but on a recent Black Crowes single that I heard the first four bars were the first things you would ever think of in open G so maybe he’s not playin’ with it too much. It was totally obvious - it’s what you do from there that makes it interesting. Keith Richards opened up a lot of things, Jules Shere (one of Prophet’s co-writers on Feast Of Hearts) is also a fabulous guitar player - he plays with his thumb in open minor tuning, upside down and left-handed (like Albert Colins then… without the upside down, left-handed bit - Tunings Ed). He mutes one of the strings when he wants a major chord, and when he lets it ring open it’s the minor. He’s got it sussed.

‘With “grudge” music there seems to be a simple rule to just turn the guitars up and I think that takes a lot of mystique out of records. I’m the guy who’s always asking people to turn the guitars down in a mix’

‘You can be taught a lot of stuff on the guitar - but you got as much chance of teaching someone to play like Keith Richards as you have of teaching someone to dance. I reckon you’ve either got it or you haven’t.

‘Then again, I look at guitar playing differently than people might expect. I do know that I have a “problem” with the way I play guitar in that I hear it in more of a Curtis Mayfield or Robbie Robertson-style mysterious way, guitar played “inside” the music, “inside” the chord. Today, with grudge (sic) music there seems to be a simple rule to just turn the guitars up and I think that takes a lot of mystique out of records. I’m the guy who’s always asking people to turn the guitars down in a mix. For a guitar player, that’s really rare.

‘In terms of recording, I’ve just discovered a real eye-opener. There’s a few in-vogue techniques to get a live feel - stop using headphones, get the monitors on the floor - but what we did on Feast Of Hearts was all play in the same room and all have the same headphone mix. That way, you really get the dynamic and you get that conversational thing. Normally you have people detached and people getting off on their own space in the mix - there’s temptations for the drummer to get off on himself and turn the snare up with loads of reverb… In rock’n'roll, you do that and you’re fucked! If you do that, the only way to sort it out is real animated mixing, which is something that should have happened on the floor. It’s manipulation after the fact, trying to create something that was never there in the first place.’

It’s a dictum that Prophet’s tried to apply to all his albums. He’s the first to admit his records don’t always work - ‘some Green On Red albums are just plain retarded!’ he grimaces - but even when things fall on their face, he learns something. ‘Glyn Johns (producer of This Time Around) was completely fearless in the studio. He’s seen a lot in his time, total chaos transcending into music, so with Glyn you can come in with practically nothing - a skeletal germ of a sketch! - and he would not panic. He knew that if you put people talented together it can work. You just gotta take the cotton wool out of your ears and put it in your mouth - shut up and work! A lot of times when you’re working on songs you always refer to other records - “Oh, this song we’re doing doesn’t sound enough like this record, it doesn’t sound enough like that record…” Producers these days come in with a stack of CDs and say, “Well this is what’s happening, this is the sort of sound we want…” There’s too much aping. Glyn never thought about moulding us sound like somebody else, and working with him was cool on that level. Whether we had any songs on that record, whether we were inspired? Well, that’s another fuckin’ story…’

Thankfully, Feast Of Hearts suggests that the inspiration is back. Prophet’s music isn’t going to change the world - after all, how much innovation can still be wrung out of country rock? - yet he is determind to mess with the format.

‘There’s a real strong songwriting tradition in country music that lends a familiarity,’ he says. ‘What makes one guy better than the other is simply the emotional contact they get with the audience and how good a storyteller they are. So I like country music, but the challenge to me has always been to take an unstructured approach to structured music.’

If everyone goes left, Chuck’ll go right… But that’s no matter, because but in a music business where half-arsed trend-chasing is seen as a virtue, this bedraggled Californian has timeless tunes he can wear ten years down the line without being laughed off the stage. ‘I feel a certain kinship with some artists,‘he reflects, ‘Matthew Sweet, The Jayhawks… But I don’t know why it hasn’t happened for me just yet. In America, I think you can still really see the effect Nirvana had on music. It’s kinda the same as the effect that REM had. Don’t get me wrong, I love Nirvana… I just hate their fuckin’ fans. It’s the carpet- baggers that try and take the easy way out, they produce stuff that sounds aesthetically like what’s “happening”. And then it’s over before it’s begun. A lot of guys my age are sorta doing retro stuff, looking back to the great records of the ‘70s and getting inspired. But I don’t know if it’ll ever be the same. It’s probably just me again, but I get the feeling that there’s not as much blood on the floor…’

Strings’n'Squiers - Heavy guitar stuff

Chuck drags on a Marlboro. I hear him exhale over the phone. “Have you noticed how there’s this huge rise in rehabilitation? I hate that, man! As a fan, I’d rather see people burn out. Y’know, rehabilitation and music - I don’t know if it really mixes. I mean, if you burn out, you can get lit back up again. You can light a match twice, man. If you hit bottom hard enough, you’re gonna bounce back pretty high.

Life versus legend. Immolation and immortality. These are the dilemmas Chuck’s been schooled in since he teamed up with Dan Stuart and dragged his beautifully wasted carcass all over the world as quick-flash guitarist with Green On Red.

So Chuck, you keeping out of trouble? “Yeah, y’know, for the most part ...”

He laughs. And well he might because his first solo album, “Brother Aldo”, recorded during breaks in the GOR saga, has been favourably compared to the work of some of his heroes - notably the late, lamented and totally dead beyond rehab Gram Parsons.

“I certainly don’t mind that,” he says. “Gram and Emmylou. God, not a bad place to start. But I’m not comfortable with the notion of a solo record. There are other people involved. Solo, to me, sounds like masturbation and I can’t think of anybody I like who’s really a solo artist”

Chuck calls particular attention to Stephanie Finch’s harmony singing. She has the sort of voice that instantly reminds impressionably romantic young men of truck-store goddesses soothing lonesome long-distance souls and indeed, she was working as a waitress in a San Francisco oyster bar when she first married vocals with Chuck on tape.

“The spirit of the recording was like a demo.” he says. “It cost virtually no money and I wanted it that way. Like, in 1988, when I had the rug pulled out from under me monetarily, romantically and domestically, I figured the only luxury I had left was to work with people I liked. I didn’t really want any professionals involved, I didn’t really want it to be too corporate.

And working with friends, just going to people’s places and putting it down on tape, that’s what I live for. It was exciting and gratifying to write a song and cut it in a day. That was the most rewarding thing about it - I kept the macho guitar thing up my sleeve because I didn’t feel like I was auditioning for anyone”

Talk turns to Bob Dylan, another of Chuck’s heroes. What’s he think of “Under The Red Sky”. Bob’s much-mocked new LP?

“It’ll be his biggest record yet, man - on ‘Sesame Street’!” Chuck laughs ‘No, I dig it. He has a hard time doing anything wrong by me I’ve been pissed at him over the years but, if you stand back and squint, there’s alwoys something there.

“I mean, he makes all these great players sound like shit. That’s his thing. Like, all the records in America are being made by the same people now - y’know, Jim Keltner on drums . . . they’re super groups. But Dylan’s played with them, all - Clapton, The Band, Bloomfield, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and he’s f***ed them all through his intimidation. He’s a dehumaniser, man. He keeps everybody guessing. That’s what it’s all about. That’s music. It’s not the product, it’s the process. You know you’ve got a record when you can hear something going on.”