Interview 4

Another Tony Stewart Interview in NME but from May 12 1973

Midnight was our cue to quit the Swiss restaurant and return, like five Cinderellas, to our hotels. It wasn`t a case of trembling at the thought of changing into kitchen maids, but more of over-indulgence and weariness. The meal was over and the booze flowing; record company executives swapped yarns; managers made merry; Focus and Stone The Crows lent back and rubbed well-fed bellies at the banquet held in their honour. Our Mercedes Pullman drew up in the Montreux drizzle, and Focus’s Jan Akkerman, his lady, two others and myself climbed in. The chauffeur doffed his cap, clicked the engine into a whisper and warned us not to flick fag-ash on his pile carpet, while Akkerman continued with a vicious attack on America. He growled: “America? Bah. I was glad to go home. You know, they’ve got no culture”. Akkerman is not a gentleman to understate. But during the 10-minute drive he crystalised his thoughts on the so-called American way-of-life, and reluctantly decided that it’s a necessary evil. The next morning bass player Bert Ruiter told me the same thing: “Everyday for five weeks we just played, stayed in hotels and slept on planes. It’s not my way of living, but we have to do it”. As yet there are no signs that the experience has benefitted their music. And maybe it never will. As we passed the time in the splendid lobby of the Hotel Suisse, Bert stated: “No country could make us better than we are. Maybe it’s strange, but we’re into each other for the music.” This, good people, is the Focus reaction to success, at a time when “Hocus Pocus”, “Moving Waves” and “Focus 3” are hitting the American charts (achieving that on their first tour is nothing short of bloody incredible). “Do you understand it?” Akkerman asks. “I don’t. Like `Hocus Pocus` is just a send-up; nobody can change that. It’s just a send-up of those rock groups…

Focus’s return to Europe was not as triumphant as it could have been. At Montreux the band encountered innumerable hassles with their equipment. It resulted in them walking off stage, later returning to do a set that was purely for the audience — because by this time the telly crew had knocked off.

Then in the Dutch daily papers it was falsly reported that Focus has broken up. To top that, says Ruiter, quite a few people believed it.

Nearer to us, they opened their British tour at London’s Rainbow last Friday. And frankly it was a disappointment. They were too loud with no middle range, the music seemed untogether, and it was only during “Eruption” that they settled down.

Neither did everything go well in Holland. Akkerman says candidly that he “blew some gigs”. One eyewitness – we’ll reveal no names and tell no lies — reckons the guitarist was a mite unpopular. The audience called him “houndelul”. Translated, this refers to part of a dog’s anatomy…

This is success.

“Houndelul, spits Akkerman, “I hope it’s the last time I play there.

“We loved to play in Holland,” he continues. “We didn’t feel high or low, we just wanted to play. But if people say things like that I don’t care anymore. We’d better stop. Because it wasn’t my fault I was so late.

“Mv cat had a kitten.” he explains. “I came back from Montreux on an early plane. When I got home it had been born on the floor, so I was just in time.”

Actually, I remarked, I’d been told one of his ducks had broken a leg.

“Oh no, Akkerman retorted. “The other cat had broken a leg. I’m concerned about that. I don’t care about…”

He hesitates, and then recalls the gig in question. “There were something like 15,000 people involved. But still, I said to myself, I’d take a few hours less sleep. But the people don’t care about that, and just call me names.

“And I played well, very well. To me it’s a challenge if they start booing,” he continues with a hint of mischief. “I think, oh, I'll make you shut up.’

“But I don’t have these feelings here. In Britain the audiences are very straight. If they don’t dig it, forget it — they don’t bother. But that crowd of 15,000 started booing, and it was as if they were going back to their childhood. I have enough booing on my farm with all the cows. It’s the same thing.”

After Montreux I met Akkerman at the Post House Hotel, Haverstock Hill, London, and once again we got back to the subject of America.

“It’s not that the people aren’t friendly,” he explains, “but they’re so extrovert. I am too in a way – but when it comes from all sides it yells at me, and you have a feeling it keeps you down. Like if you make one mistake, they’ll kill you. That’s fear. In New York especially — it’s so depressing.”

Cracking the American market is a big feather in Focus’s cap when you consider they were only a support band to acts like the Beach Boys, Zappa and Santana. Thus, most of the time, their set was considerably shorter than usual.

In Montreux Bert had described the difficulties quite vividly.

“Sometimes it was like a boxing game. There were so many aggressive people, and when we played we had to hit them. After that we had time to play a little of what we wanted — but it was usually the hard stuff, like ‘Anonymous’.”

Akkerman elaborated on the best policy to adopt:

“I think you must forget all about making the right music for America, and just do your stuff, then leave at once. That’s what we did, and it turned out to be successful. But the next time we’ll play for two hours and longer.

We played a short version of ‘Focus III` then ‘Anonymous’. After that we did ‘Tommy’, the single, and then “Hocus Pocus”. By that time everybody was crazy and yelling for more. “America,” he adds, “is still into rock ‘n’ roll really. Oh, they want boojie, woojie. Edgar Winter, you know, is a beautiful musician, but he plays this all the time…” And Jan hums a cliched boogie riff. He continues: “They better hire Micky Mouse if they want that, but not me”. This aspect made Focus a slight downer for American audiences on first hearing. Having heard the single “Hocus Pocus” they thought the band were another gang of rock ‘n’ rollers. “That’s what they said,” says Akkerman, “and it was audiences on first hearing. Having heard the single `Hocus Pocus’ they thought the band were another gang hard to get going. But they really got into it – faaaar out,” he mimicks.

“If I should read one of those young kids’ diary’s I’m sure on every page it’d read, ‘far out’. Really.

“Our music swings, but it’s not rock ‘n’ roll; it swings, but it’s not jazz.

“But there’s hope for America,” he decides, especially when a group like Yes do a very good job over there. They’re probably one of the only white groups who’re really interesting.

“Rock ‘n roll, which is white blues, makes no sense. Alex Korner did a good job for the blues — but now the blues has had it. You know it’s still here, but for me it’s had it. I was playing it when I was ten… and they’re still living in that.

“And the only group who dare to make music without that are Yes. It’s the only answer to the black music and rock ‘n’ roll.”

Akkerman believes that the initial difficulty for the Americans trying to understand Focus’s music is that Americans have no real culture. However, he does concede that in 200 years time the blues could be termed “classical”.

America’s culture is mainly from the Continent,” he says. “Because most Americans are Europeans. They’re English, Balkans, Italians…”

But culture or no, Focus have been accepted and are now big business in America. There’s no two ways about it. And with recognition come some rather sad human behaviour patterns. Groupies.

“It’s so strange in America. Ten times a day some chick calls you up, and sometimes my girlfriend Lamie may take the calls.

“They say, ‘yeah, can I speak to Jan? I’m a girlfriend of his from LA’. And Lamie says, ‘he doesn’t know you, forget it.`”

Raising an imaginary receiver Akkerman adopts a mock American accent. “Hey shit man. I get that ten times a day. Myself, I’m not such a romeo.”

But on a more serious note, he continues: “But anyway, we’ve found our recognition now, and that seems to go with money. At least we’ve earned it; we worked for it. But I don’t know how many people are earning a lot of money off us just by doing nothing. And that’s always frustrating.

“Sometimes I feel I can’t go on anymore, and that’s bad. Because business people, and so many like them, make their game out of it. Business is already more important than the group itself. We just continue playing.”

Fame also means there’s petty, senseless bitching from some other bands Focus appear with… sneaky little roadies screwing up a gig by twisting a few mixer controls the wrong way.

And there’s an equally abominable game played by buck-drunk business moguls, called blood sucking. Or, to put another way, releasing product years-old and pretty dire.

On the first matter, Akkerman tells of a US gig they played supporting a well-known American rock band, who, to save them embarrassment, I have not named anywhere in this article.

“We had their PA system,” Jan recalls. “We were on stage five minutes and everything was whistling and we had 10,000 people screaming and yelling at us. So I said, ‘come on guys forget it, I don’t want to play any more’.

“So the other band went on. Within two minutes of them going on stage everything was beautiful — perfect. Before, the organ only had half power because they took some bulbs out. It seemed to me they had switches marked, ‘distortion, distortion, distortion’. Then some with ‘sabotage — off/on’. And it was actually that way.”

You should also have noticed the recent release of an Akkerman solo album, “Profile”, here in England. Now I welcome it, because it’s a good set. On the other hand, Jan complains about its initial release on artistic grounds, maintaining he was not considered.

He says: “I did the A side and some of the lute pieces one-and-a-half years ago. They just wanted a product, but I didn’t realise that at the time. And they took those pieces and put them together, and then they had a product. Here’s the Jan Akkerman solo album.”

You don’t agree with that?

“No. Would you? The A side is all right, it’s autobiographical… but at least they should have given me time to change some of the things. Even if I don’t have a contract with them, to me it seems a matter of ethics.

“The B side is going to be completely re-done for America in LA or Hawaii. And it’ll just be the lute with a classical orchestra. And on the very long part of side A there’ll be tablas and I’m going to fill in some harmonics and add some new ideas. The music itself is O.K.”

By comparison, “Profile” is not such inconsiderate record company action compared with the story of a certain Dutch import album. By the now-famous Akkerman, it’s called “Guitar For Sale,” and is just nine years old.

Jan recommends: “It’s better if you don’t buy it at all.

“When I was still at school, every Sunday I went into the studio and did some takes. And that’s the solo album.”

Come on, why buy it when you should be saving your pennies for the next Focus album? Already they’ve nearly completed another piece which they say is similar to “Eruption”, and which will be recorded after the British dates.

“Then,” Akkerman elaborates, “we’ll put the thing together and do something with the new material and also with new equipment. Yesterday we had a new PA, but we’re going to have some new things on stage.

“For instance I’m going to electrify the lute in a very special way… so it sounds natural. But as clear and as loud as my normal guitar.

“And Thijs might have a mellotron and that’ll add something to the sound.”

Reflecting, he adds: “We’re just beginning now. We’re exhausted in many ways, but we’re going to have a six weeks vacation. By that time, I`ll be jumping at the ceiling so I can play.”

Interview 3

Tony Stewart talks to Jan Akkerman

In a small office at the Manchester Hardrock, reeking of stale beer and dirty ashtrays, Jan Akkerman is struggling to light a cigarette. Outside, where half an hour earlier Focus had closed the final date of their British tour, the Hardrock discotheque was in operation.

Hesitant dancers are making for the office, young guys hustling their way in, arms thrusting paper and pens at the guitarist. Akkerman is detached and a little moody as he scribbles illegible black lines, which will be undoubtedly, be pasted on a bedroom wall next to the "Moving Waves" sleeve.

One guy wants to shake his hand. "You", he tells Akkerman, "must be the best guitarist I have set eyes on." A wry smile curls the guitarist's lips.

"Where in Holland will you be playing next week 'cause I'll be over there?" inquires a 17-year-old, meticulously folding a signed cigarette box. "Ask him" retorts Akkerman, indicating the manager. "He knows all about it."

Peter Banks once nominated Jan Akkerman as his choice in the NME Guitarist's Poll and I sniggered, unaware of how good he was. But now, as Focus score four British chart positions (two albums and two singles) and the memory of two big crowd drawing tours remain fixed in the mind, few people in Britain will be unacquainted with Focus and the man who picks out beautiful lines on a black Gibson Les Paul.

But even though the rest of the band is over the moon about the British tour, Akkerman plays it cool. "I played several times good, but most of the time rotten. Just because we were working too hard. Four weeks in a row every day, with one day off."

Yet in Holland, I point out, Focus does three-hour sets. Akkerman nods in agreement. "But that's just three, four or five times a week. At least the other two days in the week we have off, and you need that desperately to come to your senses again and rebuild whatever needs rebuilding."

Whether Akkerman admits it or not, the challenge of such arduous roadwork gets him high. He is a proud and determined man who, like Thijs van Leer, sneers at glam rock and all its connotations.

His interest is purely for the music, and another challenge in that field is his current preoccupation with the lute.

"To me, with 13 strings, it's the most difficult instrument," he comments, before going on to talk about 16 century music he loves. "It's music in its most primitive form but, to me, it's the most honest music."

"There are also a lot of commercial tunes in other people's stuff, strong melodies. Julian Bream, for example. Everybody knows I love him, the way he plays, his approach to the lute and guitar. I especially like his lute playing."

"It's just incredible what he does. Get any pop guitarist and put a lute into their hands and they can't do anything with it. Because the guitar is easy compared to that instrument."

Akkerman is a rarity, if not unique, in that his style is not derivative of the blues, jazz, or pop - even though they are all influences. He is one guitarist who has his own style completely. In years to come Akkerman's technique will be copied by a new generation in the same way that Clapton's is now.

When I put that to him the hard mask of confidence drops to show a glint of incredulity in the eyes. "In Holland they are doing that already, but I think the only comparison with Clapton is that I also have the warmth in my playing like he has. That's all."

"Technically, I'm far better than him, musically we are probably at the same level. But still I make my own music, and he is a blues guitarist. There's a difference. And I don't say it's worse or better. Clapton's the God of guitar players. He doesn't need that from me, but he's one of the few guys who I would say are good guitarists."

Elaborating on his stimulus for creativity the guitarist says it comes only from his own ingenuity, his head. "I stopped looking at other guitarists round about 18 or 19. I knew what was going on in the world with the Beatles and things like that. Suddenly I said to myself 'shut up'. I don't want to listen to anything except good music. Just practice my own thing."

It is just this attitude of mind which has enabled Jan Akkerman to emerge from a European country previously disregarded here and in America as our poor musical relations and be acclaimed as a great. There are many fine players waiting to come through in his wake, says Akkerman, although he feels many of them are on the wrong track.

"They're still hanging themselves up watching the outside world. If they'd do their own thing they'd win, but they don't. That's the fatal mistake they make. There are beautiful musicians coming out of the Concertorium and going into pop music, and they're going to play Burt Bacharach stuff in a pop way."

In spite of his reputation Akkerman's 'Profile' solo album, which has only seen Dutch record counters, didn't sell well back home. Which is stranger still when Akkerman agrees that he's regarded as the Dutch guitar God.

"I am a name, I am a legend. But the problem in Holland is that they want the Sweet (a British glam rock/pop band) and stuff like that. I agree that doesn't stop me making my own music, outside or inside Focus, which is what that solo album is all about."

"Actually I should give you an explanation of that album. I lived in Amsterdam, and had a very hard time being run out of that group and this group, and I didn't eat and things. And that's what is exactly on the first side of that album. Then the other side is the classical thing, which I love very much."

The style of the set is different to Focus, more abstract and technical. Akkerman insists: "That's actually my part in Focus. I don't care if people are raving or not. This is me. See? Expressive."

"When you listen carefully to it, you see clouds, you see water, you see grass grow. It's answering a question: am I happy that way?"

His conclusion is that he is. And he's content with his contribution to Focus' music: "Otherwise I wouldn't do it. I'd stop writing at this moment if I didn't like it, even if it was going well. Brainbox (his previous band) was going very well financially. There is a certain mentality you've got to have: all or nothing."

To him Focus is an inspirational source for music and playing. Despite performing the same stage numbers for 18 months, it's refreshing and rejuvenating each night. On this basic Akkerman will explain concisely what the group is aiming at.

"It's just like an aeroplane which needs something to take off from," he says. "After that, we take off and go on. That's how we use the tunes. Every night is different. It is actually like building a new word or a new language out of the words you know.
If people have heard us four or five nights, it's all right, because they will still hear new things."

This article was originally written by Tony Stewart and appeared in the NME on 24/02/1973

Interview 2

(Only the beginning of this fairly lengthy interview is here, the part where Jan talks about Tabernakel.  For the rest see here)

Interview with Jan Akkerman - from “Radio 538 magazine”, 24-11-1973

(Text and interview by Hans Beckes, 1973; Translation and additional notes by Wouter Bessels, 1999; Final editing by Irene Heinicke, 2000)

“The eldest familiar string-instrument is in fact the lyre, or lira, which is some kind of little harp that was used a couple of thousand years ago. That instrument originated from the “bow and arrow”, by the trembling of the tendon people could hear a tone …. kranggggg…… Musical souls continued experimenting on it and a wide variety arose. Through the harp, the lute came to attention during the Middle Ages. It originates from the Middle East and was played a lot in Arabia and Persia. In Greece they were playing the Githarra and during the crusades, lots of things were transported ‘over here’. A traditional lute didn’t have any frets, which caused the well-known jingling. Since then, the instrument became more and more adjusted to ears in the Western world and around the year 1500, the lute was most popular. After that period, the virginals were introduced and people discovered that playing the lute was much more complicated than playing the virginals. My own lute has 13 strings and in those days they had 32 strings. Tuning such a ‘bitch’ costs me at least half an hour and by then I can play it for ten minutes, after that I can start all over again. So you can imagine that musicians in the past had difficulties with that aspect. That’s the reason for its disappearance, because the use of a keyboard is much easier. That caused the end of the multi-stringed lute. Music written after that period is no longer that important to me, with the exception of Bach and some of those other big guys. I feel myself a bit stranded in modern guitar music, that does not move me any more. But the real medieval lute music, that is what I find extraordinary. It attracts me, especially the melodic aspect. Composers like John Dowland, Anthony Holborne and Thomas Morley are one of a kind in this type of music. They composed and performed a lot at the House of Queen Elizabeth I.”

“Well, I recorded some of my favourite pieces from that time for my album “Tabernakel”. There are some Gailliards on it, which are dances from the Renaissance, at a time of ¾, played in a very joyful way. There’s also a Pavan, a piece at a time of 4/4, done slowly and calmly. “Courant for Mrs. Murcott” is a piece from the 15th century, which was written by order of such a dame. A noble lady, paid a composer lots of money to write a piece especially for her.”

“In return for a possible extra payment, composers gave such compositions titles like “To the most honourable Earl of Derby”, “His Gailliard”, or “The most perfect musician, Thomas Morley, to the Queen’s Sacred Service, her Pavan”.

On the album, the well-known “House of the King” is also found. Why?

“I thought that there were many possibilities in this song, so I revised it for this new album, in a completely different arrangement. In the States, I discovered the electric sitar, which I rented immediately to use it in “House of the King”. It’s a Coral and I was so moved by it that I took one home with me. People who attended our (Focus, WB) recent gigs in Amsterdam and Rotterdam, could have seen me playing it. But during the recording sessions of Tabernakel, I used a genuine sitar as well, which can be heard on the song “Lammy”.

How did you come up with that title?

“Lammy is my wife (Jan divorced her in the early nineties and left Friesland, WB) and I dedicated this to her. It consists of several parts in different moods and the concluding part is called “Last Will and Testament”. With that, I try to express how I want things to be. I’m playing the lute on that part and was accompanied by two flutes, a harpsichord and a string-quartet. It ends with “Amen”, in other words, 'I have said’”.

BOGERT & APPICE

“On some parts of Tabernakel, Bogert and Appice assisted me. It’s absolutely wonderful what those two men are capable of and we worked very nicely with them. They will also perform on my next album, that’s what we planned immediately after the sessions”.

So I assume, that you already made plans to do another album ?

“No, I don’t know a bloody thing about that yet. There probably will be some lute playing on it, but I think I will do some heavier stuff as well next time. Maybe I will do a double album, one record full of one experimental piece, in which I can go completely out of my head and the other one featuring the lute playing”.

Why is Meditations subtitled Javeh?

“Well, that is the biblical name for our Lord. When I wrote it, and that happens to me very often, I had the feeling I wasn’t actually writing it myself. It was on my farm in Friesland, among the animals and flowers, in full spring. The song starts in very frustrated way, because when you look around you, you realise you are in trouble after all, that’s why it’s called Javeh”.

A couple of hours before this interview, I sat in the rehearsal room when Bert Ruiter was playing Jan’s electrical sitar. Bert allowed me to play it as well for some time, which was quite a nice experience. I told that to Jan and I asked him where the strange sound comes from.

“You can compare it with a sound coming from a badly built guitar. As a result of a bad position of the neck, the strings hit the frets, which give a shrilling sound. I have tuned it like the normal sitar, in Dmol, because I want to use it as a normal sitar as well, however with less possibilities. You can slide much more on an ordinary sitar, you can pull the strings much easier which gives the whining sound. This is caused by the bridges on the neck. With an electric sitar, the other strings are disturbing the space to do that”.

For the guitar addicts among the readers, the above means enough, however Jan keeps on talking about that subject. Jan’s lute is made by Theorbe, it has additional bass-strings. A chord in between a line or at the end can be sounded along with a bass-string as a confirmation. The instrument has a deeper, warmer sound compared to an ordinary guitar. Enough about the technical aspects. To my question why the album is titled “Tabernakel (Tabernacle)”, he answers that by using the word “Tabernakel” he means the music , as it appears on that record. The Covenant Ark plays an important part in that, he says, while the lager arrives on the table and we are smoking our umpteenth roll-your-owns he adds:

“During the studio sessions I’ve tried to create such an alliance among the musicians, the big orchestra and the choir…. anybody that came in and who was capable to contribute something, everything was pretty cool out there. It was in the Atlantic Studios in New York. Gene Les Paul, son of the famous Les Paul, was behind the mixing desk and my producer happened to be Geoffrey Haslam from England, who was directed to me by Ahmet Ertegun, the big boss of Atlantic. I was waiting on New York airport soon after my arrival and suddenly someone behind me said, Hello I’m Geoffrey Haslam, your producer….. All of a sudden I saw this very small character with extra small glasses on….I wouldn’t give him a penny actually. Even shabby is not the right word for his looks, haha! Well, when we had finished recording the album, I wasn’t very satisfied with it and then did some controls at the mixing desk, and said ‘this is how I want it to be’. By then, Geoffrey looked at me a bit drowsy and stammered something. There had to be done some cutting in the tapes. Some pieces were cut out and some others were placed instead. I am really used to a lot of things and am able to do something in that field as well, but how he treated those tapes, man, I was shocked! They almost flew over our heads and I thought: There goes your LP, Jan. Well, he made a mess in there for a couple of hours while I did some sweating. Afterwards, we played the tapes. Well, I can tell you that Haslam is a genius, I couldn’t believe what I heard.

Then there was this drop-out from Columbia University. His name is George Flynn. We were planning almost everything in the studio and this so-called electronic composer walked in, someone who was specialised in producing electronic music, a friend of Ahmet's, also a Turk. He heard my music and said: You must ask George if he wants to do something with you, he is a teacher, but recently took a degree in medieval music.

OK, said this character and then took all the demo tapes with him and rushed into a taxi to meet him. Well, George heard the first tape and soon afterwards he joined us in the studio. He saw me working with the New York Philharmonic, because I already started recording the first track. He added a lot of beautiful items to it, he went completely wild. We did the arrangements together, but working on the solo lute-pieces took me almost a year. I owe George a whole lot, we have become friends ever since.

That Ahmet Ertegun is a nice fellow. Thanks to him, I recorded the LP. I didn’t feel like making another solo album at all, but happened to have some time for it and also some materials, so I did it after all. I can’t incorporate the lute-music into Focus. I don’t think that a single should be drawn from Tabernakel. Some people suggested that, but I don’t feel like doing it. (House of the King was released in most parts of the world as a single, backed with Javeh and was a small hit in Holland and the UK, WB)

Interview

"TABERNAKEL" - SONGS OF SELF PRAISE

By Ellen Mandell

CIRCUS RAVES ARTICLES - JUNE 1974

It was an unusually damp and chilly day, even for the northern farmlands of Akkrum, Holland. But as Jan Akkerman, the Dutch guitar-master of Focus, toiled over a new composition, he was far too engrossed to remember to put on a sweater. In his arms he held his own special source of warmth - his cherished lute. On the sturdy table in front of him was an equally prized possession, a tablet of fingering exercises for the ancient instrument. He tenderly stroked the strings of the treasured lute, growing lost in its lush, lulling sound as it etched his musical thoughts. It must have been at least a quarter hour before Jan became aware of a frenzied rapping on the front door.

His unexpected visitor was a ruddy Yde de Jong, the hearty tour manager of Focus. Yde, (pronounced E-dah) had driven all the way from Rotterdam, and could hardly restrain himself from blurting out the news he had come to personally convey. "You've been voted number one in the Melody Maker poll!" he exploded in his native Dutch, anxiously waiting for his newly-crowned friend's reaction. But Jan merely nodded his head in confirmation, as if he'd known all along. "Oh, really" he replied in a less-than-enthusiastic monotone, and then set back to work.

The travel-weary manager was flabbergasted by Jan's response - or rather, by his lack of one. But what Yde couldn't possibly have understood was that the award wag no surprise for the quiet yet cocksure Jan. The virtuoso guitarist had no doubt ever that he was the best in the world; the Melody Maker poll merely acknowledged that fact. Moreover, the poll recognized only a single aspect of his great talent - rock. From that moment on, Jan worked ever more furiously to achieve new musical heights. Interweaving classical and contemporary music, and exploring the magic of the lute that had become his forte, Jan felt that he was one notch closer to his artistic goal. On 'Tabernakel' his solo album on Atlantic Records, Jan proves it.

"I see a solo album as an artistic act which you cannot get rid of in the group itself," Jan revealed to Circus as he relaxed on his farm the day before joining Focus in England to record their next LP. 'You have to do a solo album just to relieve your mind."

Rock vs. class: Only several months earlier Jan had insisted vehemently, "Focus is nothing more than a rock band. If we were classical musicians we'd go on stage with violins." But although Jan was reared on the street blues of Amsterdam and achieved Dutch superstardom with the rock band Brainbox, it was his years of classical study on scholarship at the Amsterdam Music Lyceum that struck the strongest note in his early influences. His solo endeavors have been the only place he could express his classical inclinations without imposing on the other members of the band. In that respect, 'Tabernakel' has been the fulfillment of a secret dream.

The ruggedly handsome Jan explained, "I was always interested in the history of music. When I first went to England in about 1966 or '67, I heard the original music from the Elizabethan times played by Julian Bream. It was then that I first became interested in the lute." By the time Focus's first yodel was heard this side of the Atlantic, Jan was like a man obsessed as he sought information about luteplaying technique and the instrument's history, devouring all that crossed his path.

Lute, flute, shmoote: The lute, for those, not up on their music history, is and always has been a bitch to learn to play; it is quite obsolete. for precisely that reason. Its taut twenty-three strings are made of tough animal sinew, take 3/4 of an hour to tune, and stay in tune for only ten or fifteen minutes. But the sound is as mellow as an afternoon in the English countryside, and worth the endless hours of practice the ancient instrument demands.

Jan's own lute is a perfect facsimile of one that might have been played in the court of Henry VIII. It was the last piece built by Amon Meinel, a 65-year old rheumatic East German world-reknowned for his excellent reconstructions of classical instruments. Headstrong Jan had to outbid the Museum of Copenhagen to get hold of it.

"I've only played the lute now for 1 1/2 years," the talented Dutchman admitted. "I finally had to teach it to myself because nobody can teach it to you."

Jan travelled all over Europe to locate instructional materials and squandered a small fortune photocopying archaic books in museum libraries. In London he obtained, at no bargain, a deteriorating but priceless tablet printed in 1610 entitled 'Variety of Lute Lessons'. "If you can play those 'lute lessons', I think you're a pretty good guitarist", touted Jan. The book became his constant companion on tour.

"At first, they all thought I was crazy", Jan smiled as he described the other members of Focus's reaction to his new interest. "Nobody thought I was serious. But on tour, when I came in after the drive from the airport or after the gig, all I did was sit down and practice out of an old book." When Jan's lute practicing began to take precedence over rehearsing with the band, his Focus friend's began to worry about their guitarist's pastime.

But the classical-rock star's intentions were only the best. He confessed, "The idea was to get young people to like 15th Century lute music without their knowing it. "As for leaving Focus to accomplish that end, nothing was farther from his mind.

Solo Flight: 'Tabernakel' is Jan's second solo album. His first, 'Profile', was recorded at a time when his enthusiasm, but not necessarily his playing, was at its strongest. For Jan, Profile has become a tremendous source of embarrassment, and he told 'Circus' that he implored Focus's American label not to release it (although eventually, they did). It was not that he felt his playing on it was bad - just that it could be far better. He decided to bring out another, better album, and felt that perhaps it might be wise to release it on a label other than Sire, the label that Focus records for.

Unlike the yodeling mogul Thijs van Leer, who negotiated a solo recording agreement on his own, Jan Akkerman left the business wheeler-dealings to Focus's manager, Hubert Terheggen, who also happens to be the highly influential director of the acclaimed Radio Luxembourg. Terheggen discussed Jan's concept for 'Tabernakel' with many high-placed friends at American record companies, and finally signed an agreement with Ahmet Ertegun and Atlantic Records. George Flynn, a young music professor at the prestigious Columbia University, and a specialist in 15th Century music, collaborated with Jan on some authentic arrangements. Songs like "Britannia by John Dowland" and "Javeh" are mixtures of Baroque charm and modern appeal. "Lammy" moves through the moods that are Jan's life - and death. And "House Of' The King" rocks with an Arabian flavor.

'Tabernakel' was recorded over a period of two weeks in the midst of a sweat-drenched New York summer. Jan led almost an ascetic existence during his stay in the glitter-scarred capitol of new-decadence. "Don't get loose or don't go out even one evening if you have an idea", he advised. boasting that it's a piece of wisdom he has lived up to. Each morning he would rise to his only meal of the day, scrambled eggs and toast. Then he'd head for Atlantic Studios, where he'd move from lute to sitar to electric guitar to bass, exhausting anyone who dared to watch. At about 5 A.M. the next morning, Jan would finally call it quits, return to his room at the Holiday Inn, and "go a little bit dead for a couple of hours, "only to be jarred out of bed soon afterwards by a wake-up call to get him back to the studio on time.

On Jan's very last day in New York he began mixing 'Tabernakel' at 7 A.M. after hardly an hours sleep. By the time he was through it was early evening. He returned to the hotel for another stolen hour's rest, then hopped aboard a jet bound for Canada. Jan had a gig there with Focus that very night!

He later confided, "You see, Focus still has the priority. On the solo album I was able to express things that I could not with Focus. But Focus still comes first."

Although Jan views 'Tabernakel' primarily as an artistic relief, just the same it is a brilliant piece of work. 'Tabernakel' has made the other members of Focus even more proud that Jan is one of them - and gives them even more reason to work harder than ever to be better!