Simple Minds' Jim Kerr on decades of 'following our muse'

As a decade, overall, the ’80s kinda sucked. I remember; I was there. Its music, though, is sacrosanct.

My generation is now vintage enough for tours featuring bands of our youth as they crisscross continents reacquainting us with our dark, fully coiffed, used-to-bes, who’d yet to know true cynicism, when one song could change everything. While I celebrate these acts for wielding that power, I admire their continued dedication to pursuing it. Endless discovery, which keeps us all vital. That’s better than some mythological fountain and its fabled restorative spring.

So, I’m excited for Simple Minds’ Alive & Kicking tour, where they’ll be joined by Modern English and Soft Cell, May 25, at Talking Stick Resort Amphitheatre, not as transportation to ‘better times,’ exactly, but to remind us why they, and maybe we, still matter. One tends to imagine such gods as trapped, immutable. However, minus a hiatus or three, all continue to record.

This may be the Minds’ way of celebrating 40 years of the “Once Upon a Time” album under the flag of leadoff single “Alive & Kicking” (not to mention the American breakthrough of “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” from 1985’s “The Breakfast Club” but make no mistake: Both states, creatively and otherwise, very much still apply. For their complete studio output on CD, minus any anniversary-reissue bells and whistles, you’d surrender $270-plus on Amazon. It’s quite a legacy: 21 albums in four and a half decades. And clear some space, ’cause another is coming.

We recently caught up with frontman Jim Kerr to travel back and forward, to explore why Simple Minds remains unforgettable.

Phoenix New Times: I’ve always been curious about your first two records, “Life in a Day” and “Real to Real Cacophony.” They came out the same year, 1979, within six or seven months of each other, which seems pretty fast even for a young band bursting at the seams.

Jim Kerr: I was just thinking today that we did five albums in two and a half years (“Life in a Day” to “Sons and Fascination” and “Sister Feelings Call” were recorded between 1979 and 1981). I don’t know what we were on, but we were on something. We’d been working toward this our whole lives, and once we got a record deal, all we wanted to do was write, record and play. There was just an abundance of energy and rich imagination. We were desperate to get going.

And you went. You had about seven discs of original material, were charting well in the U.K., and making inroads into America when a man named Keith Forsey asked you to record a song he’d co-written for a feature film.

We were young and nervous. We didn’t really do other people’s songs. To be taken seriously, you had to write your own stuff. And we were doing good, good stuff. We were getting ready to work with “Once Upon a Time” producers Jimmy Iovine and Bob Clearmountain, so we didn’t lack ambition. The idea of covering someone else’s song was alien to us. It was like a chapter from someone else’s book. We were all writing our own, asking, “How is this going to fit?”

When we heard the “Don’t You” demo — not to take anything from it at all — it seemed a little generic and not as exciting as what we ourselves were doing at that time. So there was a wariness. But once we spoke with and met the people involved, we decided to give it a go. It was really nothing more than that. We took three hours, and lo and behold, here we are 40 years later, still talking about it.

We liked Keith from Day One, his energy and enthusiasm. He was fun. Back then, we’d already set up to work with Iovine and Clearmountain, but I suppose it was only going to be a matter of time before we crossed paths with Keith again. It was, in fact, about a decade when we did “Good News from the Next World.” We were lucky to work with some of the great guys, and Keith was one of them.

If you’re lucky to have success at all, you have to appreciate it, and you also have to realize that it can come from the most unlikely places.

Were you already working on “Once Upon a Time” when “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” was recorded and became a hit?

We hadn’t started working on the actual album, but we had started writing and pursuing the notion of working with Iovine and Clearmountain. Then this came out of nowhere. Our label (Virgin in the U.K., A&M in the U.S.) — and what a great label, incidentally — came to us and said something record companies don’t usually say: “We kind of blew it with your last record (1984’s ‘Sparkle in the Rain,’ produced by another great, Steve Lillywhite).” Our previous couple had success everywhere, apart from America. They said, “We really should have done more with the promotion. We’re definitely going to for the next one,” which was great to hear. “In the meantime,” they said, “there’s this teenage movie, and it’d be great for you to be involved. MTV’s going to be all over it. It’ll lay the groundwork for whatever you do next.” And they were right about that.

Was there any pressure on you to replicate that single’s success?

Oh, always. Once you’ve gone through the door of that league, yes. No doubt about it. But we didn’t do bad with [No. 3] “Alive & Kicking.”

This year marks “Once Upon a Time’s” 40th anniversary. What does that album mean to you as a band and as its co-creator?

Well, the fact that we’re even known and still here has a lot to do with things that happened, particularly in 1985. What a year. Not only did it bring “The Breakfast Club,” “Don’t You (Forget About Me),” Live Aid, “Alive & Kicking” and “Once Upon a Time,” it also solidified us in the minds of a lot of people and brought us such tremendous success.

You and guitarist Charlie Burchill have kept it going from the start. Forgive the momentary geek-out, but what I admire most is that you’ve remained Simple Minds to your core, yet you’re always moving forward. For instance, I remember “Street Fighting Years” being a significant leap from “Once Upon a Time” and “Neapolis” being like “Where are they going?”

That was maybe one where some things work out better than others (laughs). I don’t know if it’s better to use “balls” or “gall,” but we follow our muse wherever she goes, and sometimes at the end of it, we’re scratching our heads. We just go on.

Why do you think this partnership with Charlie works, and how do you keep it fresh?

I think there are many aspects to it. One is that we’re incredibly fortunate in that we really like each other and each other’s company. Part of that good fortune is that when we do have a fight or a bit of a blowup, it never lasts more than a day.
The main thing is that we have so much in common, but we’re so individual. He’s a musician; I’m not. He sees the world through music, notes, chords, reverb and songs, so we don’t step on each other’s toes. We’re usually on the same page.
But I think you’ll probably agree: There aren’t many longtime partnerships in music that end up surviving with the partners still liking each other. But we really do. This has given a real purpose to our lives. Don’t ask me to tell you what kind of crusade this has been, but it is a bit of a crusade, one very dear and important to us.

What’s it like to go out with your friend and perform your life’s work to multiple generations who’ve found meaning and resonance in it?

It’s a fantastic pleasure. We relish the challenge, and it’s a challenge every single night. It’s easy to think, “Come on, you’re only human. Some gigs are so-so; some are better than others.” But that’s not an acceptable mentality. We try to be the very best we can be every night, because look what’s at stake: As we’re walking up the steps to go onstage, we’re not just saying, “Hey, this is our new album.” We’re saying, “This is what we’ve done with our lives.” And you don’t want to come up short.

So that really motivates you every single night. There’s never really a feeling of, “Oh, well, it’s one night out of many” or “There’s always tomorrow night.” The previous gig no longer exists. It’s ancient history, and tomorrow night’s a world away. It’s all about that night. As it should be for the audience, because they might be seeing you for the only time in their lives. Perhaps others have seen you before, but they’re looking forward to seeing you again. They’ve made great sacrifices, and you have to do the same.

Simple Minds, Modern English and Soft Cell perform at 7 p.m., May 25 at Talking Stick Resort Amphitheatre. Tickets start at $39.