Photo's from: Silvana Breur
Interview by Bas Kanij

Venice is a so called vocal group from America that is often compared with the Eagles and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, because the music has the same acoustic vibe and is arranged for several voices. The band was formed in 1977 by Kipp and Michael Lennon, cousins to one another, who were joined within three years by Mark and Pat Lennon, also cousins, but at the same time related to respectively Michael and Kipp by means of brotherly bonds. Their official, self-titled debut saw the light in 1990, but it wasn’t until 1997, when the highly acclaimed ‘Born And Raised’ was released, that a little bit of success started coming their way. But unfortunately not on their native soil, where up to now most local radio stations seem to ignore them with almost malice prepense. Out of sheer frustration with this situation the song ‘Radio Game’ was featured on their latest studio-effort 'Amsterdam’. The name for this album is well-chosen, for it was recorded in an old church located somewhere in Amsterdam, a facility recommended to the band by the record company because of its great acoustics. At the moment Venice is on tour in Holland to promote the album. Just prior to one of their shows I found Pat and Michael willing to answer a few questions.

"You’ve been in the music business for almost 30 years now, do you have any regrets?"
M: Being in the music business (laughs)
P: It’s a dubious profession
M: True, but still no regrets really. Just wish we had bigger success. Doesn’t really matter where as long
as it means stepping up.

"What’s the most important lesson the music
business has taught you?"
M: Stay in control of your art. Keep an eye on things. Don’t trust anyone to do anything. I mean, work with people but don’t assume everyone’s doing their job. Stay involved. You always have to be on top to make sure you know what’s going on.

"Over the years you’ve worked together with great names such as David Crosby, Don Henley and Jackson Browne to name but a few. Are there still any people left you would like to work with?"
M: Tons of people. Pink for instance. There are many talented people around that would be great to work with. I could make a dubious list (laughs).
P: Even from the older and new generation. There’s so much music that we like.
M: Our influences are all over the place. Anything from
Led Zeppelin to Earth, Wind and Fire. Working with any of them would be incredible. The list is huge. It’s always great to work with fellow professionals because they appreciate what you’re doing. When I’m playing, I sometimes wish they would sit in the audience, come out and join us on stage. But it’s hard to reach people like that. You gotta be lucky.

"What’s the funniest thing that ever happened to you on stage?"(Pat and Michael start talking together)
P: I’ll tell that story.
M: It’s probably the fogmachine. But you go ahead( turns to Pat).
P: Ok. We were playing in Utrecht one time, Vredenburg. Beautiful place. For me it’s a personal story. It was so daft. We were beginning to walk out upon stage when I turned to my brother Kipp, telling him how cool I thouhgt this place was and that it almost felt as if we were Crosby, Stills and Nash. And as I was saying that, I tripped over a wire and almost fell flat on my face. The lighs were kinda dim at that moment, so I don’t think the audience saw it. I hope. Now you tell about the fogmachine(turns to Michael).
M: That was Groningen. The Oosterpark. It was our second big time there. During one of our songs something happened to the fogmachine. Button got stuck or someone was leaning on it. Can’t say, but it kept shooting fog. It was so funny. All we could do, was laugh. We couldn’t see eachother. There was fog everywhere. We have pictures of it. It was like Spinal Tap, a fake movie. Then someone finally managed to fix the machine and the fog dissipated.

"You also perform as the Pine Mountain Logs,
doing shows that only feature cover songs. Why’s that?"
M: There was a desire to do something on the side, a bluesy kind of jam, to keep things fun and loose. We just started improvising, then realised we knew a lot of songs and slowly we started to put more effort in it, doing shows mainly in California but also at private parties elsewhere, and it just developed from there.

"Looking back over the years to the beginning of the band in comparison with now, are there a lot of changes?"
M: Yeah, definitely. There’s a lot of older stuff we did that I don’’t
really fancy anymore. Keep thinking ‘Should have done it differently’. But, I guess, that’s all part of the growing process. Try to expand on things.

"Is the passion still there?"
M: Sure. That’s what keeps you going. It can’t be there 100% of the time. It’s like a roller-coaster. There’s moments of high highs and moments of low lows. But once the passion is gone, the band won’t be togethere anymore.
P: That’s right. It’s definitely what keeps you going. Writing an album for instance, the passion is there, when you’re finally getting it, when all the pieces fit together, then it comes out.

"Do you still have any goals left?"
M: Of course. Australia, Sweden, UK, Germany (laughs hard).
P: Buy a house.
M: Sell more records, do more concerts, have more woman (laughs again)

"Is there in this age of downloads still hope for new artists to do their thing?"
M: There’s always hope as long as there’s people in the business that are willing to promote the good hope. The talent is still popping up, look at John Mayer, but it depends on the artists whether they make it or not. Everyone’s downloaded. Selling cd’s doesn’t get you there. Right now the music business is in a spin. But change is good. I believe the future of music is live performing. It’s the only thing you can control yourself. So far we’ve been lucky. We’re a live band and we sell our own downloads legally.

"So, if you’re a live band, how do you feel
about working in the studio?"
P: It’s a blast. Especially the last time was great. Normally we sort of built up the record, but this time we sat in a circle and everything happened spontaneously. We did just this and that, hitting keys out of the blue. Controlled jamming. There was this creative atmosphere where everything happens naturally. It’s always easier to come up with good ideas when everyone’s involved instead of just having one mind having to think of it all.

"What’s this strange ritual about that you perform just before you go up on stage?"
M: Well, we usually cut the interviewers’ hair off, stuff the interview papers down their throats, pull their pants down and shuff them on stage (laughs). Is that the one you’re referring to? Oh, you mean the other one. Where we stand in a circle. Don’t really know how that started. Do you, Pat?
P: Can’t even remember when it started. We haven’t done it always. It usually starts with the Flintstones’ theme tune. Whoever puts their hand in the circle, would point to a newcomer and make that person think of a song, any song in the world. But everyone has to know the song.
M: And if not, there’s always the safety. We can always go back to Happy Birthday.

"Is there a funny anecdote you’d like to share with us?"
M: There’s lots of them, but our worst moments have strangely enough been our funniest moments. When it gets as bad as it can be, when it can’t get any worse, all you can do is laugh about it. I remember one time driving to Southern Denver for 8 or 9 hours, showing up at what was supposed to be a college place. But college was out. There was only a cowboybar with three people in it who were drunk and yelling at us. Ended up at a bad hotel that scared the shit out of us. And also our bassplayer had left the
band. It was the worst possible day we ever had, but that night when we played, we just laughed about the whole thing. It was so bad that it was actually funny.