By Isa Jones
By Mary Willson
By Brian Turk
By Drew AIles
By Taylor Boylston
By Bree Davies
By Emerald O'Brien
A couple of decades ago, this opinion was widely held. But in the years since Neil Young proudly declared, "This note's for you," artists have discovered that licensing tunes for use in major tube campaigns is the surest way short of payola to guarantee that a single becomes a smash. Ask Nelly Furtado, whose "Promiscuous" track vaulted to the top slot on Billboard's Hot 100 chart due largely to the exposure it received in ubiquitous ads for Verizon Wireless.
As a result, Parton's views make him seem hopelessly out-of-date in today's marketplace, as he understands full well. "I kind of assume that everyone sees it the same way I do, but most people probably don't," he says. "Anyone new, that's not how they'd go about it." Still, he isn't about to alter his position, whether it's anachronistic or not. "If you're making music, then to patch that music through whatever it is -- petrol or beer or something -- changes it in a way. And I want to keep it kind of pure."
Purity isn't the first characteristic that comes to mind regarding the Go! Team. After all, the combo's most recent album, last year's Thunder, Lightning, Strike, is an exuberantly bastardized amalgam of rock, rap, soul and soundtrack music that hardly serves as a monument to homogeneity. But deep down, the Go! Team's offerings are an undiluted reflection of Parton's main ambition -- to create a sound in which low art and high art can peacefully co-exist, and maybe even party together. "What I like best," he says, "is the combination of originality and catchiness. Experimental catchiness is kind of the holy grail for me."
With the exception of having a mother who was a member of a Welsh choir, Parton was exposed to a fairly standard array of music in his youth. The difference, then, is that he absorbed the sort of sounds that tend to bounce off the rest of us. He was so smitten by the theme song to Degrassi Junior High, the late-'80s entry in the long-running teen epic, that he tried to teach himself how to play it on the piano. In addition, he admired the themes to many American TV programs (he specifically cites Charlie's Angels and series associated with producer Glen A. Larson, the man behind Magnum P.I. , Knight Rider and Manimal), and recognizes the mark they've made on his current musical projects. "I always liked the action-packed stuff," he reveals, "and the kind of fanfare-y brass overlays they used."
At the same time, Parton says, he was drawn to a wide range of contemporary styles -- "things that were kind of upbeat and happy," as well as "darker, more heavyweight kind of music" -- and after he purchased a sampler and a four-track and began to make his own music, he consciously refrained from keeping these influences separated. "I've always loved old-school hip-hop, the Jackson 5, funk stuff, blaxploitation stuff, '60s girl groups," he points out. "But then I thought, 'What would happen if you combine that with more of what's traditionally thought of as an art-school approach, where you're distorting things and fucking up the production and things like that?' So I mixed things that don't normally mix, which some people might think sounds contrived or forced or whatever. But I do generally think that there's some kind of middle ground where the two things can meet."
A 2000 EP called Get It Together was Parton's first attempt to achieve this blend, and thanks to the patronage of the late DJ John Peel, he received so much attention that he decided to assemble a band to help him translate his madcap material in a live setting. Before long, rapper/singer Ninja, guitarist/banjoist Sam Dook, bassist Jamie Bell, drummer Chi "Ky" Fukami Taylor and multi-instrumentalist Silke Steidinger (replaced last year by Kaori Tsuchida) were part of the package. "There weren't any kind of Pop Idol auditions or anything like that," Parton says. "I found Ninja on an Internet site, but everyone else got in touch with me or were people I knew in Brighton. It came together in three weeks, and we had a gig, like, three weeks later, so it was a real cram job."
Parton's new Team-mates made significant contributions to Thunder, Lightning, Strike ditties such as giddy opener "Panther Dash" and "Feelgood by Numbers," which Parton describes as "a shameless reference to Charlie Brown-type music." According to him, "There's more live playing on there than people probably think." But loads of other sonics were culled from samples that he used without getting permission in advance. Hence, when Thunder struck the U.K. in 2004, "it was totally illegal," Parton concedes. "A hundred percent of it was uncleared."