"I'm Stranded" just might be the definitive jump around on your bed punk anthem. Unleashed unto the world back in 1976, when punk rock was blitzing London, England, the song slipped nicely into The Sex Pistols and The Clash waters. It was recorded halfway around the world in Brisbane, Australia, by an unruly group of scruffy youths, who were quickly whisked to the U.K. to join the punk scene and cash in on the hype. In one form or another, The Saints have been recording sporadically ever since. After a mellow, folky solo diversion, vocalist Chris Bailey is back with a new Saints record called "Howling", and ladies and gentlemen, it rocks. On the phone from his new Amsterdam digs, Chris talks of Saints past and presents, and all points in between.

Will there be a full moon tonight?

CHRIS: No, just a wonderful sliver of an Arabic moon.

The reason I'm eluding to this....

CHRIS: Will I be howling this evening? No, I doubt that.

Quite a surprise to see a new Saints album. How did all this come about?

CHRIS: For the few people in North America who may be familiar with the checkered history of The Saints, every so often for the past two decades or so, I've been the singer of this group. And every so often I run away screaming, thinking I've had enough of rock'n'roll. I want to be an actress. I want to record Bolivian folk music. Without going into the nasty litigation in the U.S. at the end of the eighties which screwed us all up for a while - a few years back I was writing with a friend from California who wanted to make a noisy record. That got me very interested. I had been languishing in acoustic folk land for a while - it got me interested in going back into the ranks of a noisy rock band. So I credit this one person.

And who is this person?

CHRIS: Johnette .... Johnette Napolitano.

Sheesh, her name seems to come up quite a bit. I only count one of your collaborations ("Good Friday") on Howling though.

CHRIS: That's by a happy default. We've known each other for a long time. "Good Friday" was the first song we ever wrote together. She hadn't used it and it fit very well with the Howling album. I met up with her a year or so later and we wrote another batch of songs.

Johnette's name came up when I recently spoke with Steve Wynn, with whom she has a long history. She's a very busy person, how did you meet up with her?

CHRIS: She's quite a remarkable woman. Many years ago I was on tour with the Saints and we shared agents. He mentioned that there was this American girl who wanted to meet me. We met backstage before a gig in a shower cubicle, and we had a photograph taken - which is rare for either of us. We've been buddies ever since. We also share a common interest in Paris and the fruit of the grape.

Is Amsterdam your new home?

CHRIS: I've been knocking about Scandinavia quite a bit and given that Europe is shrinking, I thought I'd like to be more central. You can't get more central than Amsterdam. It's also a very beautiful and cultured city. For me it's a subtle irony because I'm the only person I know, besides my girlfriend, who doesn't smoke pot. As you know Amsterdam is very liberal about that.

I'd like to talk about your long time association with Paris label New Rose. How did the Saints wind up with a tiny, upstart French company?

CHRIS: The Saints were the first act on that label. EMI had just dropped the very early incarnation of the band. I was living in London, and received a letter through a journalist at NME. He said it was a note from a mad French person. I read it and responded. It was Patrick who ran the label. He was quite surprised that I had responded cuz I had done it on a whim. He came over, we met up, drank a huge amount of wine, and now seventeen years later, we're still good buddies, though I don't have anything to do with New Rose any more. We just spoke the other day actually. Essentially Patrick was a fan of the Saints, and we've had a very volatile and interesting relationship ever since. Iggy Pop described Patrick as a lovable rogue. I share the same opinion.

I know that New Rose went under. Has it been resurrected again?

CHRIS: No. Patrick has a new label which is even more esoteric. His big record this summer was a Cuban tribute to Che Guevara.

Do you have any idea as to how many records you've released?

CHRIS: I think there are eighteen or so.

I have an odd one from New Rose - the only copy I'd ever ran across: What We Did On Our Holidays.

CHRIS: Oh that horror!

What is that record all about? There is no information given. No liner notes. And the track listing is all mixed up.

CHRIS: many years ago I did a bunch of demos. I think it was about the same time Bruce Springbean [sic] did Nebraska . I was on the other side of the world in Australia when a friend called up and asked me if I knew that I had a new record out. I said "No, I don't recall having made a record." Patrick had put out my acoustic demos as a proper album. Of course I was very angry because you should be consulted about such things. Once Patrick and I kissed and made up, I thought well there's a dodgy sort of record. Might as well do another one. That was back in '83 or '84, and I had taken my first sabbatical from the Saints, and I was travelling about like a troubadour. I was being an ass basically. Over the course of a couple of months I taped all these dodgy performances with this dodgy three-piece rockabilly band. We were doing some very bad soul covers, and that's basically what I did on my holidays from the Saints.

You know I quite like your version of "I Heard It Through the Grapevine".

CHRIS: It has a rough, boyish charm, I'll give it that. I've actually listened to that record recently and had a good laugh. It brought back some fairly interesting memories concerning very fine cognac, but that's another story.

Before we leave that record, I must ask you about "Cherokee Dance". Just exactly what is that song?

CHRIS: It's something I've plucked out of my memory. For the life of me, I have no idea who wrote it. I have no idea where I heard it. I have this terrible knack for remembering songs at the wrong time. When the audience got drunk and aggressive, we would drag it out and play it very loudly for a long period of time. And it seemed to soothe the savage beast.

Let's go back to the beginning. What was the original incarnation, and when was that?

CHRIS: Oh Christ, the first album was basically a demo that EMI did because the single ("I'm Stranded") got a lot of play in England. They sent out their reps to sign up this band who sounded like the Sex Pistols. That was late '76. Before that Ed, Ivor and myself, with a legion of different select members had been playing for two or three years.

You were pigeonholed right into the punk scene, but did you really consider yourselves a punk band?

CHRIS: Not really. What we knew about punk was what was happening in New York - the legacy of the New York Dolls and the whole art scene. We were teenagers living in Brisbane, Australia which is a very parochial spot, and the kind of music we were listening to was much more blues, R&B, soul, which is the basis of both the New York scene and subsequently the London scene, even though they weren't quite so reverential about the past. A lot of the early Saints records were basically Eddie Cochran riffs that we sped up. The punk thing struck me as more of a marketing thing.

Did you move to London straight away?

CHRIS: Pretty much. That's where the money was. Once you get a bit of hype it doesn't take long for record companies to come along. We were given high power management which was a terrible mistake, and went wrong very quickly. I think we had done about a half dozen shows in Oz before going to London.

How were you perceived back in Australia, being a hot shot punk band and all?

CHRIS: Nobody noticed back then. It was quite amazing. Our gigs were badly attended and we managed to offend everybody, which was not hard to do in the conservative surroundings back in those days. We went back in 1980 for what I considered the first proper tour, and most of the audience thought that we were an English group.

Back then image was certainly a key in the music biz...

CHRIS: We failed the image test rather dramatically.

Was there any pressure from the record company to adopt a certain look?

CHRIS: In fact they went one step further. In collusion with management, they designed little Saints suits for us. If you remember Generation X, a group that threw up Billy Idol - it was the same guy who designed their outfits. Now, I'm quite a large man, and wearing multi-coloured little peppermint, day-glo psychedelic ripped t-shirts is not my idea of how to look my best. So the idea of the mythical Saints suit never really made it off the drawing board. That was just after Vietnam, and we naively took the notion of revolution rather seriously. So the whole notion of commercialization and selling out was a no go area.

What was the rest of the London scene like back then? It must have been quite exciting.

CHRIS: I loved it. The punk rock revolution was awfully, awfully lovely darling. It might have been great for a couple of weeks, but by the time we arrived it was all very corporate and designer.

It's funny because in North America punk seemed very dangerous, frightening, exciting, and way out there. People were genuinely afraid of it.

CHRIS: I think your average line dancing bar is further out. But don't get me wrong, a lot of my contemporaries are very nostalgic for that period. I don't understand why, but I don't want to be a party pooper. It's only common sense, EMI are not really an arts foundation. They're just there to ship units, and I don't think they give a fuck either way of what those units are. The whole notion of this being a brand new rebellion that rock'n'roll was originally is more orchestrated by marketing than music. The music of that period has dated terribly. I don't think there was as much commitment as was proclaimed in the press releases. I've always mocked show business, I'm still involved, but I think it's one of the most stupid fucking human endeavours. I love music, but it has nothing to do with the music business.

What do you think of these old punk farts reuniting these days - like The Sex Pistols and The Buzzcocks?

CHRIS: It just proves a point I made many years ago, that there is a fine line between cabaret and revolution rock. I've been asked this question a lot because there's a correlation with The Sex Pistols, even though in mind there's never been much of a similarity. I have to laugh. If folks enjoy it, then fine by me.

If you feel this way, aren't you apprehensive about releasing albums as the Saints?

CHRIS: I think they were saying that back in 1983. The beauty is that whenever I do something in the genre of rock, it'll be the Saints, cuz quite frankly, I don't care. It's obvious that we are not finance driven. Either the catalogue stands or falls, and the fact that you can still get the records in most parts of the world counts for something I think.

Do you see yourself cranking out Saints music ten years from now?

CHRIS: When I was asked this question at twenty, I said "I don't know." When I was asked this question at thirty, I said "I don't know." Now that I'm forty - I hate to sound like I'm not making any progress, but I have to say "I don't know." I've never been a big fan of the road, but this tour has been a shitload of fun. There's something about the jungle beat that gets me going. It's the second best thing next to sex I've discovered. Literature, rock'n'roll, sex, good food, good wine - what more would you like?

How were you treated in the early days. Were people fawning over you or was it tough being a so-called punk band?

CHRIS: I was drunk most of the time. I wasn't paying much attention.

Is there one musical highlight for you?

CHRIS: Discovering the jungle beat. I don't want to be overtly intellectual about rock'n'roll. Is it the poetry of the latter half of the twentieth century? Is it the folk music of the end of the millennium? I don't know. When I first heard noisy music as a kid, it had a resonance that even Lord Byron couldn't muster up. I can't imagine a life without turning on a stereo or picking up a guitar. It's a damn fine thing.

You mentioned your drinking past, and your [present pot abstention. What is your addiction of choice these days?

CHRIS: The Nouveau Bourgelais was not bad this year. I have a passion for wine.

Do you wait in line on the morning of third Thursday in November?

CHRIS: Oh no, I can wait until mid-day.

What exactly happened between you and Ed Kuepper (co-writer and guitarist for the first classic Saints records)?

CHRIS: That's going back to 1979 - Good Lord! A lot of things happened internally and externally. I think he was more depressed than I over how we were treated in London. I think he's a little more sensitive or conceited. I've never been able to work out which. When EMI dropped the contract after the third album, management dropped us like a hot potato. He and Ivor ... funny how Ivor never gets mentioned, but he was very important to that early line-up. He and Ivor went back to Oz, and I stayed in London. It was all very amicable for a while, but we've grown apart with each year. I worry about him cuz he seems very bitter and twisted in his old age.

What do you think of his post Saints work?

CHRIS: Generally it's been really good. Like everyone, he tends to get repetitive. Some of his albums suck the big one, but generally speaking I've always been quite a fan. He does good stuff. His lyrics confuse me, but he was always smarter than I was....?

Who's idea was it to include horns with the basic guitar, bass, drums set up?

CHRIS: I think it was Sam and Dave.

Okay okay, I'm talking about the Saints.

CHRIS: That was on the second record. We thought horns would sound good with my soulful voice. Which is quite funny cuz listening to that stuff now, I think I sound like Mickey Mouse. Ed and I used to sit around listening to a lot of music. The first record sounded the way it did because it was supposed to be a representation of what we sounded like live. The ambition was never to be just that first record. The second record has horns on it, it has hammond organ on it, it has tambourine on it for Gawd's sake! It was just part of an evolution process. We were quite young when we started. Not quite as young as handsome though.

Do you see any money from those early records?

CHRIS: It's funny, I've never been fascinated by my nostalgia, but a couple of years ago when I got new management they started to investigate, and apparently I still owe EMI money cuz they own all that stuff. The second funny thing I discovered was that whatever royalty checks I should have been getting were going to Ivor. I don't mind cuz I love Ivor a lot. But in answer to your question, you'd have to ask Ivor whether I'd been making money off the early records. EMI has reissued everything and that is flattering. I'm sure management will ultimately get to the bottom of it if there is money laying around.

The old and new releases are available over here on Amsterdamned Records...

CHRIS: Isn't that an amazing little coincidence?

Quite. Is there any new band out here that you like? Do you follow MTV?

CHRIS: Actually there's shitloads of stuff I like, but I don't watch music television. I'd rather watch porno movies, or girls without much clothes dancing around. I quite like some of the Sub-grunge stuff. I thought Beck made a couple of interesting records.

Though we're just seeing Howling in North America, isn't there another record on its way?

CHRIS: Actually Howling came out in Europe in late '96. We did a fairly gruelling support tour for that. The new Saints album is done, mastered and ready to go.

What is the album going to be called?

CHRIS: I'm putting forward "Llama", because I have a very nice photograph of a llama. But nobody likes it. I've also offered up "The Daily Llama" just to prove I'm still politically correct. But people like that even less....?

I'm all out of questions.

CHRIS: Well it was a very pleasant chat, and if me & the band are ever in town, don't hesitate to come backstage and help us drink the rider...!