End of The Line?

LARRY Heard looks uncomfortable. In a darkened hotel room on the edge of Memphis, the originator of house music's most soulful, emotive and spaced-out classics doesn't seem bored so much as exhausted by the effort of explaining why - after more than a decade of making records that flirt with undiluted genius - he has decided to quit the scene he helped create. He's here, but he's not here. His hands fidget, fingers tapping out an irritable rhythm on an empty cassette case. He shifts uneasily in his seat but never once lifts his eyes from the floor. Maybe he sees another galaxy there, some kind of parallel universe where all you need to be happy in life is the ability to make beautiful music. "I'm just a regular guy," he repeats for the third time that evening. It is his mantra of reassurance.

Seven months ago, Heard packed up his belongings in Chicago and moved south towards the Mississippi and Memphis, close to where his father was born. He got a job for the first time in ten years. Heard has already sold his recording equipment and is planning a career as a computer programmer. "I needed a calmer backdrop," he insists, citing what he describes as "the craziness and violence" of Chicago as the reason for his move. But it's not clear whether he's trying to convince me or himself. He still hasn't unpacked properly.

Memphis, he says, is a nice place to be. "They're big on family values here," he maintains. "Even in the poor parts of the city where they're selling crack, it's the whole family selling crack together..." But you sense that it's only partly meant as a joke. "I'm a conservative person, generally," says Larry. "I may have a way-out mind but I'm basically conservative. I come from conservative people, regular old conservative black people who work every day, and will probably work the day before they die too."

What he means, of course, is that he's tired of all the superficial shit that surrounds the music industry. He doesn't understand the need to dress music up with videos, larger-than-life characters and, of course, interviews. And, in fact, this interview almost didn't happen. A few months ago, Larry blacked out while swimming and sank to the bottom. The medication he was on had reacted adversely to the chlorine in the water. He nearly died. Luckily a friend discovered him and pulled him out in time. He's made a full recovery, but his doctors expected permanent damage. At the least, they said, he would suffer from some loss of memory. The medical term for it, they explained, was amnesia.

Larry Heard cont...