Reveling in ‘Dick Tracy’ Musical Mix

In stark contrast to the recent trend in which any number of producers are enlisted by a hit artist for a new album, the “Dick Tracy” song soundtrack album instead has one producer riding herd over a daunting diversity of name performers. The range of voices includes k.d lang, Erasure, Brenda Lee, Ice-T, Tommy Page, Darlene Love, Al Jarreau and Jerry Lee Lewis.

Fortunately, producer Andy Paley, who also co-wrote all but two of the album’s 16 selections (not to be confused with Madonna and Danny Elfman’s respective “Tracy”-related discs), is an old hand at variety. Not many careers can claim a scope that includes writing songs for Madonna and touring with punk rock progenitor Patti Smith.

The 38-year-old multi-instrumentalist has also collaborated with Brian Wilson on his 1988 comeback album; produced cult faves NRBQ and Jonathan Richman, as well as touring with the latter; produced the inventive “Shag” soundtrack; drummed with the late guitar wizard Roy Buchanan; had one of his songs performed for Jacques Cousteau by the Annapolis Glee Club; had his own singing efforts produced by Phil Spector, and, as one of the teen-throb Paley Brothers, shared the stage at Madison Square Garden with Shaun Cassidy.

And Paley waxes so enthusiastic about his far-flung experiences that he gives the impression he has spent his whole life having the time of his life. Midway through a recent interview in his Los Angeles home, he played a cassette assembled for him by British folk upstart John Wesley Harding (whose debut album Paley also produced). An audio “resume,” it includes recordings of Jerry Lee proclaiming Paley “a genius” and Brian Wilson calling him “the greatest musician in the world.”

There’s something to Paley’s unfettered glee that leaves one with the distinct idea that, far from indulging in an ego bath here, he is simply sharing firsthand evidence that life can be more wonderful than one’s dreams.

“I never thought in my wildest dreams that I would work with Brian Wilson and Darlene Love, or that Jerry Lee Lewis would one day record a song I’d written with him in mind,” he said. “These are people I listened to when I was a little kid, who meant more to me than anything. I dropped out of high school when I was 15 years old, after the 11th grade. I never got a diploma and maybe I didn’t pay attention in some of the classes, but I definitely paid attention to Darlene Love, and I paid attention to Brian Wilson. That’s what I really cared about. It’s amazing to me to end up later in life working with these people.”

Paley first saw the Beach Boys when he was 10. He was born and raised in Halfmoon in upstate New York--”with a population of 50 and 200 cows.” His older sisters drove him to concerts, enabling him to see the Stones, the Kinks, Chuck Berry and others at an impressionable age.

He’s used to hearing others sing his songs: When he was 7, he wrote a tune about a porcupine that was recorded by children’s singer Tom (On Top of Spaghetti) Glaser. That song came out on a 78 r.p.m. record. Now he’s got a CD full of songs featured in one of the year’s top movies.

Paley knew Madonna “casually” from meeting her in New York clubs. She was a fan of his “Shag” soundtrack, and along with a vote of confidence from Sire Records President Seymour Stein, she was instrumental in bringing Paley into the project. Warren Beatty had never heard of him. Paley took it as a good sign when the director-star called him from London to exclaim over the songs after hearing Paley’s rough demos.

Though Beatty later called or visited the studio often, he gave Paley a broad leeway in coming up with the film’s tunes.

“Beatty asked me to just write 1930s songs. He didn’t say, ‘Well there’s a scene here where a train goes by so give me “Ridin’ the Rails.” ’ He just said, ‘Make it sound like stuff you would have heard on the radio, and I’ll use it however I want to.’ He wanted to avoid beating people over the head with lyrics that fit the images.”

Paley said he’s far from an expert on ‘30s music styles. “I had an affinity for some of it, but I’m not any kind of authority at all on any kind of music. For this project I really listened to a lot of old music: Louis Armstrong, Fletcher Henderson, Cab Calloway, and ‘20s stuff like Bessie Smith. I didn’t have to be an authority on it. I just had to be in the mood.”

To co-write the songs and perform the backing music, Paley turned to a decidedly unfamous batch of friends, such as a cappella singer Ned Clafin and Boston’s White Heat Swing Orchestra.

“There are a bunch of name people I could have gone to, the old standby guys. I just didn’t want to do that. I don’t have enough fun that way. And if this isn’t fun there’s no point in doing it. That’s the main thing to me: It’s got to be a good time or it’s just ridiculous because the result is supposed to be entertaining.”

The Jerry Lee Lewis track, “It Was the Whiskey Talkin’ (Not Me),” was a song Paley had written in the ‘70s with Lewis in mind. “Dick Tracy” was his opportunity to finally connect with the rock and country legend. He recorded Lewis and his piano at Memphis’ Sun Studios, the home of Lewis’ ‘50s hits. (Paley is hoping to produce full albums with Lewis and Love.)

“He’s an incredible professional, brilliant,” Paley said. “There was no problem with him except each take got better and better. He kept saying he could beat what he’d just done and wanting to do it again. And he did, but what he’d given us was already so great I couldn’t bear to erase over it again.

“The guy has no shortage of personality, flair or style. He entertained the people in the studio with a little concert for us. I appreciated that. And I appreciated it when he pulled up in his white 1990 Jag onto the sidewalk in front of Sun. He was parked on the sidewalk, completely blocking it. A cop stopped at the intersection and they just waved to each other like old friends.”

“Everything happened very fast and easily for ‘Dick Tracy.’ Like with Brenda Lee, all she wanted to know was ‘How do you want me to sing this?’ I asked her how she already sang it, and it was already exactly fine. The only direction I could give her was to do her little Brenda Lee growl more, like when she sang “Sweet Nothings.” It was a little more work producing a younger singer like Tommy Page. You can’t say, ‘Well, give me that special Tommy Page whatever,’ so it was another ballgame producing him.”

As a producer, Paley said, “I don’t have a signature thing that I do. I just want the thing to sound good, whatever it takes. The main thing I can say about any project is to have a vision of what the ultimate product is going to be in your head. That end carries over into everything, even to questions like, ‘Should they order lunch now? Should the guy be playing that bass with a pick? Should we bring in another bass player? Is that guy’s girlfriend a distraction? Is this being played back on the wrong speakers? Is that guy too tired? Is that guy on drugs?’

“You have to be five steps ahead of everyone in the room, in having that vision of the finished record. That and the other main thing is to have fun and be open to trying different things.

“That was reinforced for me working with Brian Wilson. He’s got such an open mind, such a great attitude. For someone who’s accomplished what he has, he has every right in the world to be the biggest snob, but he’s not. He loves advice, he loves criticism. He wants to know . The thing to do in this job is always keep asking questions.”