| John Oates' apartment
in the Village is three blocks west of Hall's, with the same skyline view. He is stretched
out on a blue modular sofa. "How does it feel?
Good. It's no great shock. I knew it was going to happen. Nobody's ever said I was bad.
Ever. And I've worked my ass off for it. So I just take my place gracefully. Remember, I
didn't pick up the guitar when I heard 'She loves you yeah yeah' and say, 'Wow, I want to
be a rock star.' I was already playing guitar five or six years when the Beatles hit.
Whether that happened or whether I ever had a hit single, I'm a musician. That's the
bottom line."
As with most duos, Oates is quite unlike his partner. While
Hall is 6'1" and cream colored, Oates is 5'5" and swarthy, his Mediterranean hot
looks coming from Italian / Moorish ancestry. While Hall reads three books a week and
shops for antiques, Oates goes for sports - car racing and filmmaking. He's working on a
screenplay now about an automotive pioneer. "Actually," he says with sudden |
seriousness,
"I'm a better race-car driver than I am a musician. Funny thing about duos is that they work at all. Earlier in the day. Daryl Hall
told me: "'I'm more manic than John, more of a pusher. I have this higher energy
level and John is more passive."
Onstage, the spotlight dwells on Hall, even when he is
behind the electric piano. He catches the eye with the swish way he moves, the petulant
toss of his hair and the quick shimmy of his shoulders, more sexually ambiguous than
Bowie's or Jagger's posturings. By contrast, Oates remains in shadow, supporting Hall like
macho ballast.
Musically they fit together like two spoons. And maybe
because they've been studio session men for so long, they seldom choose to look at each
other or at the audience, keeping eyes half-closed, gauging the sound. The show is
musically lush, theatrically spare. No flashpots. No blood. "Our music is visual
enough," says Hall. |
Daryl Hall and John Oates
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