According to John Oates, he met Daryl Hall backstage at a sock hop in the 1960s, after a neighborhood gang fight broke out on the dancefloor. Those auspicious beginnings led to a string of hits for the duo in the 1980s, placing them on a very unique perch in the pop culture birdcage.
I spoke with Oates last fall, and Hall a few weeks before South by Southwest, about their bizarre legacy. They hit the Long Center Saturday night.
On the box set:
Hall: It was exhausting and stimulating, because I don’t listen to my music. So to listen back in one session and pick songs, I had to listen very closely … It gave me a sense of objectivity. Hearing it and saying, “Oh, this is how it grew.” To be able to see yourself as other people saw you.
Oates: It’s a strange review of your life, and our life has been chronicled through music. A lot of people have photo albums, and it was similar but completely different. You remember the nuances of not just writing the song but the people involved, who the band was at the time. So there are many levels of memory. I was particularly intrigued by the early, early stuff. First of all, I never listen to any of our music – most artists never do – so going back 40 years, seeing our youthful energy as opposed to the producer-savvy stuff of the 1980s … I was really impressed by the bands we had in the 1970s. The six or seven live tracks from London [1975] – the playing and the magic that was happening that night, blew me away.
We tried to give it chronological context, then show the evolution. Of course we picked the hits, but we also picked stuff that was more indicative of where we were at the time in the various eras. If you’re willing to go through in order, you can hear evolution. People think of us as disc three, but we were very experimental in our use of technology, and I don’t think we get credit for that. There was also a progressive, avant-garde side.
On doing improv with Flight of the Conchords:
Hall: I wish they’d used more of that footage; we did some extra improv. I’d rather improv than learn lines any day.
On their evolution:
Hall: Anyone who does something creatively wants to span generations. I just write, and there was something in me that caused me to write a certain group of songs. It’s creative evolution. Taking over the production focused it in the 1980s. The 1970s, we had the Philly guys [playing with us] and the California guys, and it was cool but it wasn’t pure. It became pure in the 1980s.
Oates: The 1970s was the singer-songwriter, finding ourself but not being satisfied with what we were doing era. In the 1980s, we started producing ourselves. Our instincts were right, going from the 1970s to the 1980s, we were able to develop a sound of our own. The 1990s was more a period of individual discovery. Then we came back together. Our past is our future. Tapping into what we’ve done over the last 30 years, that’s what we’re about right now.
On the positivity of Hall & Oates songs:
Oates: “She’s Gone” is about being jilted; “Kiss On My List,” that song’s really saying, “You’re just one of the things on my list.” “I Can’t Go For That” is about the bullshit of the music business. So, our songs are deceptively simple, but I think if you delve deeper there’s more going on. But a song like “You Make My Dreams,” yeah, that’s a simple life-affirming statement.
This article appears in March 19 • 2010.