Grant-Lee makes a name for himself

By RUSSELL BAILLIE

The first time Grant-Lee Phillips came to New Zealand he played to about 20,000 people. The second time, it was nearer 5000.

And this Friday night, as he plays guitar and sings songs from a now five-album, 10-year career, the Los Angeles singer-songwriter is performing to less than a hundred in an Auckland bar.

A few hours earlier, while talking in his hotel room, Phillips laughs heartily when it is pointed out that he seems to have become more selective about his audience.

But it's mischievous to plot Phillips' local appeal by those numbers - that first show was as support to R.E.M. at Western Springs, the second was at the legendary 1999 Sweetwaters, where his old near-namesake band, Grant Lee Buffalo , proved the best of the troubled musicfest's rock'n'roll imports.

Now he's back operating under his own hyphenated full name, the band having parted company after four albums.

Which means a two-night stand at Neil Finn's bar Tabac is just the thing to cap off a promotional visit for his debut solo album Mobilize.

Live, shorn of the backing of a band - or the subtle electronic rhythms of the new album - and accompanied by his acoustic-guitar and a violinist, Phillips still delivers a powerful set.

It joins the dots between his sometimes soul-shaped present, his band past, and his influences - the venue-owner joins Phillips on stage for a couple of songs, including versions of the Everly Brothers' Dream and David Bowie's Ashes to Ashes.

But what is apparent is that a semi-solo Phillips is just as good a vehicle for his songs as the former band leader.

The old trio of himself, bassist-producer Paul Kimble and drummer Joey Peters, which first came to notice with 1993 debut album Fuzzy, imploded after fourth album Jubilee and their Sweetwaters appearance. The band's time had come and gone, says Phillips.

"It was more of a gradual state of impasse. In a three-piece band you've only got so many legs to stand on - saw off one of them and the table begins to topple.

"As a songwriter it began to make less and less sense to regard that as a band."

Arguably, while critically acclaimed for their majestic folk-rock, Grant Lee Buffalo were simply the right band at the wrong time during the grunge years.

"Yeah, the fact is that most of the music I have enjoyed was always a little out of its element, always a little out of step with the times and when it wasn't, it was discovering a band that made two albums - a band like Television - which existed in this little mythical world.

"But I doubt I would be in a happier state if Grant Lee Buffalo had developed - into what? The Dave Matthews Band? Nothing against Dave, I've never met the man.

"You have to have the right chemistry to begin with and the thing that's kept us together was the thing that imploded in the end. Band relationships are probably no better than romantic ones - you are drawn to those things that are either going to make you stronger or are going to leave you purple and blue in a bathtub in Paris somewhere."

Ditching the group meant Phillips also had to find a new label and new management. He also says he spent time rethinking his approach to music. Although, by the sound of Mobilize, one major influence - Bowie, again - is more pronounced.

That's something he cops happily: "He's got way too many records for one person that are way too good."

The wide-screen songs of Grant Lee Buffalo often dwelt on America as a semi-mythical idea. But now Phillips says his lyrical focus has shifted to something more immediate.

"In the past I might have been more fixated with wrestling with that legend as you put it. But today I am more intrigued about writing about our malls and all of the other things that overwhelm our American lives; the influence of the media and all little things that account for our existence."

And without a band to hide behind, yes, it's more personal, too. "It's basically a musical version of me - that's what it comes down to."

* Mobilize is out now.