Van Dyke Parks has a CV the length of your arm. It's full of surprises too. He once sang Silent Night in German accompanied by Albert Einstein on violin. He wrote songs like Heroes and Villains for the Beach Boys and, perhaps most impressive of all, his very first job as an arranger was The Bare Necessities in Disney's The Jungle Book.
As for his other gigs, he writes scores, children's books, produces and performs. And among those to benefit from his surplus of talents are The Everly Brothers, Bruce Springsteen, U2, Little Feat, The Buena Vista Social Club, Tim Buckley, Brian Wilson, The Byrds, Ry Cooder and The Grateful Dead - and that's a seriously edited list. From Hattiesburg, Mississippi, Parks first attended the American Boychoir School in Princeton. He studied clarinet and later piano at the Carnegie Institute and majored in music at Pittsburgh. Almost immediately he signed up with MGM and then moved to Warner Brothers where he began work as a lyricist with Brian Wilson of The Beach Boys. He produced the first records by Randy Newman and Ry Cooder. It seemed a long way from the Boychoir School - but there had long been a love of all music.
"Having met Toscanini and Sir Thomas Beecham and living a disciplined life, the first record that popped my ears, was Lover by Les Paul and Mary Ford. That changed my life. That changed my regard for unserious music. It made me think that that unserious music was serious stuff - that it had a lot of starch. But I liked all music. As my friend Randy Newman says, I'm a musical goat. And I concur. And I think eclecticism is, by now, a standard operating procedure in a composer or a musician's life. I just follow my own conscience. As Kinky Friedman said, `you gotta find what you love, and let it kill you.' "
That said, the musical mind of Parks was whirling with so many genres that one wonders how he ever focussed on anything. More limited musicians sometimes tend to be quite successful because there is a very definite thing which they do. In fact, their limitations create what becomes their style. For Parks, however, as someone who can turn his hand to anything, there has always been a much more open and generous approach.
"It's to do with emotion. All cultural vernaculars carry emotional weight. For instance, to me, Eastern European music is hyper-emotional - with dark, mysterious, sexual, romantical overtones. I think the same thing about Latin-American music. In music, what I choose to use in my lingo, is what I'm trying to evoke in emotion. The medium becomes the message."
Arrangers always have difficulty when asked about their contribution to the work of others. Good manners usually prevent them stating what is often quite obvious - that the arranger has given more to the process than the more celebrated artist. On other occasions, the commissioning artist may have a very clear idea of what is required from the arranger. But for the endlessly polite Parks, he is content to deal with whatever the situation calls for.
"Sometimes someone will just look at me and see what I'll bring to the table. That's what an arranger or an orchestrator does. I've arranged hundreds and hundreds of things for all kinds of different people and I always learn something because, first of all, it's a reactive job. It's made me slightly famous - which is probably all I'll ever be - but that's fine because I enjoy anonymous work. I enjoy arranging. I've found my briar patch. I've found my place where I can exult." Insisting that he "lives in the present tense - like a dog," he is enthusiastic about a current project with Eliza Carthy. He talks about how great it is for a "fifty-six year old codger-rocker to work with people of greater merit". That said, surely there have been times when he has been the real brains behind much more famous outfits. Again, he is slow to judge.
"Well, over the years I have hung around with people who even I felt couldn't do things as well as I did, but I wasn't interested in musical snobbery. It can lead to feelings of superiority which is the mark of a small person. And I always try to remember not to look down on somebody unless I can haul them up. Of course as a producer I can remember, say, Randy Newman's first record. I remember needing to really ignite that project. There was such a dubious reaction to his voice at the time - and don't forget that Dean Martin was carrying Reprise at the time and he was a crooner! But there is always doubt. There was also doubt about Ry Cooder at Warner. But it's not how big the gun, it's how good the shot."
FOR his visit to Dublin, Parks will be joined by two equally extraordinary musicians. Lee Sklar on bass and Grant Geissman on electric guitar. He describes this trio as "the most wonderful and flexible extemporaneous unit I can think of that still has detail and power". For Parks, playing with these "two great Generals - Grant and Lee" is the most fun of all. There is only one tiny fear in the air.
"Music is an abstract situation and it invites a lot of abstract thought. I believe that it takes attention to detail that eludes the casual observer. So I know that nature abhors a vacuum and the greatest horror is empty seats. A lot of people tell you that the show must go on. Not me ! They got the wrong man! I've always had a healthy respect for the conjurors, the rainmakers, the P.T. Barnums - the people who know how to arrange themselves around a room. Boswell and Johnson knew how to work the room. But I don't know how to work the room. I don't do it as a habit. This is a very rare thing for me and an athletic event. Because my fledglings have fledged, I'm going out at fifty-six. I've had a very private life - but I've always yearned to play."
And what of Albert Einstein? On his wall, Van Dyke Parks has a framed autograph of the great man. As a child he had stopped him in the street and asked for it. But the admiration appears to have been mutual because the story is true. Van Dyke Parks can indeed claim Einstein as a former accompanist. It all happened on the front porch when the Boychoir School, out singing for the locals, called at Einstein's house.
"He went back inside when I was singing and I was frightened. I thought I had made a mistake and that maybe my German wasn't good enough. I looked at the choirmaster and he gave me the evil eye. But I kept singing and then Dr Einstein returned to the porch with his violin and played an obligato. And we were just working the neighbourhood! It's just an indication of where music takes a person. I have great relish in remembering this. It's not to be treated like an oddity. I am not an elephant man. I am a fortunate man. I'm fortunate to have survived in the company of great devoted people who want music to have purpose. And that is to elevate the human condition. And that's why I'm making a fool of myself in Dublin."
Van Dyke Parks plays HQ Abbey Street on Thursday, December 16th