Sophie B Hawkins, singer, songwriter
I was Bryan Ferry’s percussionist but got fired after two weeks. He very nicely said: “You can’t play the Cuban congas as well as so-and-so who’s coming in to replace you.” I wore dresses then and was trying to be someone else, but after being fired I thought: “Screw it. I’m going to be myself.”
I went back to waitressing and coat-checking, but was still writing songs. One night, playing some chords, my hand slipped to the G. It sounded so melancholy and suited my mood. The lyrics started to come. The first line – “That old dog has chained you up all night” – was triggered by events in my childhood and the people I was hanging out with. Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover really is my life story.
The third verse – “Free your mind and you won’t feel ashamed” – is probably why people have called it a lesbian or LGBTQ+ anthem. I’m glad, but it goes deeper than sexuality and gender. It’s about human issues and, 35 years later, the meaning is still changing as society evolves.
I made a demo cassette in my bedroom but the feedback from friends wasn’t good. I knew they were crazy – and that it was a ginormous song. Finally, after two years, by which time I had 40 songs on my cassette, I played it to Ralph Schuckett, a keyboard player who later did the beautiful string arrangements on my first album. He was more receptive.
Ralph wanted me to remove the third verse, shorten the bridge and remove the word “damn”. I remember we had fights about this in his house in Brooklyn, but I won because I was young and confident. He cleaned the track up and got seven labels bidding for me. He’s not alive any more but really Ralph was responsible for my career.
On the demo, I sang in a low and a wispy voice, but in the studio they suggested I try belting it out. I said: “I can’t possibly belt out a C sharp!” But I did and have done it ever since. Radio stations in the American south didn’t want the word “damn”, but to Sony’s credit they went with it. My mother said, “I love ‘damn’ because it’s like you’re damned.” It reminded her of William Blake.
I was told the video was “too erotic”. I found it dreamlike and sensual, like the music. But we had to make another. Many years later, I found out the real reason was that I was dancing with a black dancer. If I’d known that back then, I’d have done more scenes with him.
Eric Bazilian, guitar
I was in a uni band with Rick Chertoff, who wisely decided that he would be a better producer than a drummer. He produced my band the Hooters and had a knack for finding songs. He found Mandy for Barry Manilow and Girls Just Want to Have Fun for Cyndi Lauper. Cyndi thought it was misogynistic and swore she’d never sing it, but after Rick got me to programme the drum pattern from Come on Eileen and I played my guitar with a wah pedal, she loved it.
It was Rick that got me to meet Sophie to see if we had any musical chemistry. We did. She was a very engaging performer, singer, woman, just oozing magnetism. We had a warm, fuzzy time in the studio together. Usually when I’m involved in a project, I’m in the trenches with every drum beat, bass part and keyboard part. With this I was just a hired hand to play guitar, which is fun. It’s just, “You like that? I’ll play it again. You don’t? I’ll try something else.”
When they hit the record button, I did the part in one take, right from the intro, but eventually they decided to bring the guitar in from the second verse, which was a good call. Sophie programmed the beats and played keyboards. Rick DiFonzo from the A’s played a 12-string guitar, but it lacked rock elements. So in the bridge, I played a rock riff. Rick went: “That sounds like Jimmy Page.”
We never discussed the LGBTQ+ aspect, but the song isn’t really gender or orientation specific. In years gone by, it would have just been taken as a great heterosexual anthem. I’m glad we’re now in times where these things are discussed more openly. It was such fun to do and I’m proud to have played on it.