A conversation with John Hiatt

The press often characterizes you as a very successful writer and a moderately successful performer and solo artist.

I think they're gauging the success by what they know about. And so they figure, "Oh, 160-some odd covers, wow. This artist did your song? That artist?" And they go, "Oh, that's successful." So I guess they figure, "Oh, his songwriting must be the thing."

But you know, the two work pretty well together for me, and have ever since "Bring the Family," really. We can go out and play and draw a couple of thousand people in a lot of different places, so I feel very successful in that way -- just the fact that people want to come out and hear me.

So you gauge your success by the performing rather than the songwriting?

I've never separated the two. I don't sit down and write songs for other performers. That's a misconception about me. Because I've been covered a fair amount of times, people think, well, he just sits there and writes songs for people. But I've never done that; I've never been able to. I've always written 'em because I'm planning on singing 'em. So the songwriting thing is that solitary exercise you do, which I love -- you know, I have a real passion for it. It's the process of it that I love, and then to be able to go out and play those songs in front of people is the payoff.

Is it also a kick to have someone else record your music?

Absolutely. I mean, put yourself in my place. If you're in your car and you hear a song you wrote on the radio, first off, you're hearing it on the radio, which is too cool for words. And then just the fact that someone thought enough of your song to record it is so totally flattering. How could you not feel good about that?

Is there a song of yours that another artist has recorded that made you see the song in a different way?

That happens a lot. And there again, it's nothing you can really put into words. It's just that you'll get a nuance or a texture that you didn't know was there, either in the melody or the music or the lyrics.

Like the Neville Brothers, when they did "Washable Ink," you know, they put it in a whole different light for me. Or when Bonnie Raitt took "Thing Called Love" and made it so seductive. I guess she can just do that. That redhead!

What's the sense you get from your fans? They're so often described as a "cult following," which is kind of a scary term when you think about it.

I think that's what they call it when you don't sell 20 million and hang around for a couple of years or five years or 10 years and then go away. You know what I mean? That's the more typical kind of deal. I've never had huge sales like those artists.

I'm thinking of people like Neil Young or the Neville Brothers -- although their sales are probably way different, those two acts, I call those people "lifers." They're in it, that's what they do. They'll do it till they drop. And I consider myself one of those, even though I don't have as big a following as some of them.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers are an example of a contemporary act that's having hits right now, but you know, they've got the goods. That Anthony Kiedis writes great lyrics. They always have great songs. They're a great band and they're lifers. They're going to be doing this as long as they're around.

Is there someone you'd like to record your music who hasn't?

Yes. The Red Hot Chili Peppers. [Laughs] But they pretty much do their own stuff. Or Ray Charles. Or, gee whiz, you know who I'd love to have record one of my songs? Rosemary Clooney. She is something.

What has been your greatest musical high?

Having a song cut by the guy who wrote "Layla" is pretty great -- and then having B.B. King singing and playing on it. That's pretty up there. And when Bob Dylan recorded a song of mine for a movie he was in -- what, 10 years ago? -- that was a total kick.

There's a little record that just came out -- a bunch of my songs done by other artists -- called "Rolling Into Memphis." There's some really great blues musicians on it. James Cotton plays harmonica on a song, and Odetta's on it. I loved Odetta when I was coming up. And there she is singing a song of mine. I started crying when I heard it, because I remember what a comfort her voice was to me when I was a screwed-up little white kid in Indianapolis, totally into music and not having too much success in any other area of my life. That was real moving.

What's left? What's the big goal you're still aiming for?

I'm not really goal oriented. That's probably bad, but for me the goal is about the work. It's all about the work -- to be able to keep writing the songs and keep playing the music. The results of my writing and my singing are almost just a footnote to me. It's the joy and the satisfaction I get out of doing it that keeps me doing it. I just want to keep that up.

And I think human development goes right along with artistic development. I think if you stop trying to get a little better as a person, then you stop getting a little better as an artist. I'd like to keep chipping away at the pitiful little sculpture. That's it. That's about the size of it.

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