(From the Independent, London daily, 8 September 1995.)
Jaz Coleman lecture, Columbia Hotel, London
by Mat Smith
Dante typified
hell as a place full of people with no opinions. By this reasoning, Jaz Coleman,
Killing Joke singer, or, as he prefers these days, "composer", seems destined
for a place in the clouds. Coleman has a theory on anything you'd care to think
about. His obsessions being reserved for things you'd rather not.
His philosophy is a strangely appealing hybrid of new-age sensitivity and
pull-your-socks-up-man-there's-a-war-on sensibility.
Eyes blazing beneath the brim of an Indiana Jones hat and flanked by burning
candles, Coleman cuts an oddly commanding figure in the Regency Room of the
Columbia, home to generations of bands.
It's impossible not to be impressed by both the sheer magnetism of his presence
and his extraordinary work rate. The past two years have seen him complete one
Killing Joke and six classical LPs, set up a studio, produce Maori choirs,
undertake three European tours and found the Perma- Culture Trust to promote
eco-friendly areas in New Zealand.
Of the 64 attendees, committed KJ fans outnumber the merely interested by two to
one, carefully vetted by Coleman in a display of anachronistic cold-war style
paranoia.
What it was in aid of, nobody seemed quite sure. Contradictions have always been
Coleman's forte. During the five-hour lecture, he counselled those present to
know their limitations on one hand while on the other, urging them to follow
their dreams, even into "the realms of irrationality".
He raged against the short-termism of Thatcher yet cackled at his own recent
economic quick fix - arranging three CDs of Who, Pink Floyd and Rolling Stones
songs for symphony orchestra - effectively dismissing his involvement as a case
of "stepping over stones" to get where he wants. Or in this case, stepping over
the Stones.
Coleman calls upon quotes from Spinoza, Mohammed, TS Eliot and Nietzsche to add
academic weight to the emotional battering-ram of his passionate views. However,
it's Napoleon's warning, "Beware of the man who dreams with his eyes open", that
he seems to have taken closest to heart.
He returned to the subject of dreams constantly. You half expected him to add
the Arthur Askeyesque proviso "Stop me if you've heard this one before". Instead
he asked members of the audience to outline their aspirations on paper while
listening to a tape of his Symphony No 1, due for its Albert Hall premiere on 25
November.
While contemporaries either live it up in LA or down in the George Robey,
Coleman is working on "One enormous masterwork for no other reason than to
glorify existence".
Grand conceit? Surely. But what else would you expect from a master of the art?