ANN WILSON AND HER RESUSCITATED HEART

Ann Wilson, lead singer of the rock group Heart, knows how to deal with a declining career.

She’s had a lot of experience with that problem recently. After five years on top, Heart, which also features her younger sister, Nancy, on guitar and vocals, cooled off badly about four years ago.

“It was a slap in the face when we suddenly weren’t hot anymore,” Ann, 35, said. “With all that money and fame, you can get jaded. Your work suffers. You live for today and don’t worry about tomorrow. You think you’ll never hit a bad time. When it hits it’s a jolt. It’s a sobering experience.”

The setting was an empty cafe in her West Hollywood hotel. As usual, her large frame was draped in a dark outfit. Dark glasses hid her eyes, which she said were puffy from fatigue--though she didn’t seem tired. Actually, she was in a jolly mood, considering that Heart was coming back strong, so she could take a light approach to a rather depressing subject.

Wilson admitted something that most celebrities deny. “I got into the glory, the fame, the acclaim,” she said. “It’s fun, I don’t care what anybody says. Having everyone say, ‘I love you, I love you’--that’s real seductive. I got used to that. Then your career gets cold and people don’t notice you as much. You miss the way things were.”

Something positive, Wilson observed, emerged from that slump. “You get a different perspective, a healthy perspective. You see that fame is shallow. You can only see it for what it is when you’ve had it and then you don’t have it anymore. Fame is like food that’s bad for you--but you stuff yourself on that junk food anyway.”

She can gorge herself on fame again because Heart’s nose dive is over. The band has its first hit album in five years, “Heart”--the Capitol debut, which shot up to No. 20 on the Billboard pop chart. The single, “What About Love?,” is a shade outside the Top 10. (The LP is reviewed in Record Rack, Page 68.)

And Wilson is the guts of Heart. She gets capable support from her sister, guitarist Howard Leese, drummer Danny Carmassi and bassist Mark Andes.

On this album, they used a new producer, Ron Nevison, and, instead of the sisters doing most of the writing, relied heavily on outside writers--with laudable results.

“We weren’t satisfied with the writing,” Wilson admitted, acknowledging a frequent criticism. “We used to match flowery lyrics with a rock ‘n’ roll base. We wanted to simplify things and get some different ideas.”

Record companies weren’t eager to sign many women rock singers back in the early ‘70s, when Heart was shopping for a deal. “You should have heard some of the excuses they gave us for not wanting to sign us,” Wilson said. “One company told us they already had one woman on the label, and they couldn’t use two more.”

Heart first had to prove itself on a small independent label, Mushroom Records. The band’s first album, “Dreamboat Annie”--released in early 1976--was a surprise smash, selling 3.5 million copies. Soon the big labels were wooing Heart. In their heyday, the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, they recorded for Portrait and Epic. The band had five albums that sold more than 1 million--three of them sold over 2 million.

Heart’s slow fade began with the 1982 album, “Private Audition,” which was largely a reaction to the death of John Lennon.

“Nancy and I were so floored by his death that we almost couldn’t function,” she said. “All we wanted to do was write about that. The songs were real melancholy. It was what we felt. It was nice for us but I guess it was real drag for people to listen to.”

Sales of the last two albums, “Private Audition” and “Passionworks,” were disappointing. Neither reached the half-million mark, a sign of Heart failure. When those albums didn’t sell, Epic lost interest in the band. The company gave Wilson a chance to desert the sinking ship, but she declined.

“They wanted me as a solo artist, but they didn’t want Heart,” she said. “I won’t be separated from the band by that kind of pressure. That made me mad.” Early this year, Heart left Epic and signed with Capitol.

Though the final Epic album, “Passionworks,” wasn’t a hit, working with producer Keith Olson yielded an unexpected bonus. He asked Wilson to duet with Loverboy’s Mike Reno on the rock ballad “Almost Paradise” for the “Footloose” sound track. The single made the Top 10.

“That hit really helped us over a lean period,” she said. “It kept the band’s name in the public eye when Heart wasn’t having any hits.”

It turns out that Wilson will be recording the solo album after all, but for Capitol. She’s doing it for the same reason most lead singers do it. “I want to do songs on my solo album that aren’t right for the group,” she said. “But I’m not planning to leave Heart. I’d just like to do some R&B.;”

Her shrieking rendition of the old Aaron Neville’s melancholic, understated ballad, “Tell It Like It Is”--on the 1980 “Greatest Hits/Live” album--is one of her few forays into R&B.; She regards that song as possibly her biggest failure:

“I sound so stupidly white, so stiff. When he sings it, with that light touch, it just breaks your heart. Compared to him, I’m a sledgehammer.”

One reason she’s partial to her vocals on the new album is that they’re more restrained and modulated than ever. This isn’t the usual wild-and-woolly Wilson. She credits the mellow approach to producer Ron Nevison, who’s worked with the Who, Led Zeppelin and Bad Company.

“He taught me an important thing about singing,” she said. “I learned not to go all out every minute. He taught me to hold back a little sometimes, to create a different effect. I find it harder to sing with discipline. It’s easier being a female Little Richard.”

Back in the early ‘70s when Heart was forming in the Seattle area, there were hardly any women in rock. Grace Slick, then with the Jefferson Airplane, was the only prominent one. According to Wilson, Slick was also the only one of quality.

“Women in rock were awful in those days,” she recalled. “They were just novelties. They had a bad attitude. It was like, ‘I’m a woman, I don’t have to be good; just being a woman is enough.’ A stupid approach.

“Rock was a man’s world for years. They were the best singers and musicians. Then women came along and expected to be treated as equals right away. Wasn’t that silly? There weren’t many women who were good as men in rock ‘n’ roll then and there still aren’t many now.”

Some, Wilson charged, get recognition merely because they’re female rockers: “If they were men with the same talent they’d still be playing in a garage somewhere.”

Being a female rock singer, she noted, is fun, with one exception--the same one that seems to plague most single women rockers: “Dating guys isn’t easy because some of them are intimidated by me. They don’t see Ann Wilson the person. They see Ann Wilson the rock star. They find it hard to relax. You can’t have fun with somebody who’s too busy being intimidated.”

Wilson’s last major romance, lasting eight years, was with Mike Fisher, a Heart member through the ‘70s. She is ambivalent about falling in love again, but for purely professional reasons.

“I don’t want to lose that cutting edge you have when you’re not happy and satisfied, when you’re still striving,” she said. “Singers lose that cutting edge when they get too happy. I’ve seen it happen. Look at Paul McCartney. He’s too content. That edge is gone. When you’re not content and sated, you can really wail and put this passionate, mournful feeling into a song.”

So singers should aspire to misery?

“I don’t want to seem like I’m romanticizing unhappiness--sweet pain and all that garbage,” she said, backtracking a bit. “Unhappiness isn’t any fun. Being in love is fun. I must be honest. If I fell in love, I’d go for it, all the way, edge or no edge. To hell with the music.”