The Painful Irony of Mellencamp : Rock’s champion of small-town values turns on himself

It is unusual for a recording artist to begin an interview by mentioning someone else’s music, especially when he’s got his own new album to promote. But this is an unusual time for John Cougar Mellencamp.

“I just made a record with a kid named James McMurtry,” the 37-year-old rock singer said even before the first question was asked in a Beverly Hills hotel. McMurtry is the son of novelist Larry McMurtry, a long-time friend of Mellencamp.

“And you’ve got to understand that the last thing I want to do is go into the studio and work on someone else’s record. But this kid is such a wonderful writer. He’s just 25, but he writes like he’s 50 . . . like he’s seen so much.”

Without prompting, Mellencamp (who co-produced the McMurtry album, due this summer) described one of the young writer’s songs.

“You heard my new record? Well, there’s a song on James’ album--’Song for a Deckhand’s Daughter’--that makes ‘Jackie Brown’ sound like a joke,” he said, dismissing a cut on his own LP. “It’s so touching. It’s about a woman who loves someone regardless of what a (jerk) he is.

“In the song, this guy is out mowing the grass one summer and he just heads down the road. The song goes, ‘Came back at Christmas, never said where he had been, just presents for the children, just stories for the men.’ ”

A few minutes later, Mellencamp--still raving about McMurtry--was interrupted by a knock at the door. An assistant handed Mellencamp a package filled with photographs of his own paintings. He thumbed through them as he returned to his chair.

“Here’s how I’ve been spending my time recently: painting,” the singer said enthusiastically, holding up a favorite photo. “It is so satisfying. My mom used to paint when I was a kid, but she used to take forever to finish a painting because she also had to raise us kids.

“But I found it’s just like songwriting. . . . Sometimes it takes weeks to write a song, then other times it just pours out. I’ve done 80 paintings since August.”

If you get the feeling Mellencamp’s mind isn’t solely on his own music these days, you’re right.

He’s at the peak of his career in terms of critical and commercial success--his last four albums have sold an estimated 14 million copies worldwide. But Mellencamp appears disenchanted with much of the rock world.

In some ways, it’s the old story of chasing success for years, only to find that the money and fame don’t bring you happiness.

Some of Mellencamp’s mood may be burnout. He’s one of rock’s most celebrated performers, but he doesn’t like touring, and those nearly 150 concerts last year took their toll.

Yet Mellencamp is also unusually introspective, and his malaise apparently goes deeper than the usual complaints about the hectic pace on the pop merry-go-round.

After championing traditional values and small-town life in his recent albums, Mellencamp finds himself, uncomfortably, battling aspects of his own behavior--tendencies such as selfishness and infidelity that are aggravated by all the hero worship surrounding rock stars.

In the angry, self-mocking “Big Daddy,” the title track of his new album, you can feel Mellencamp wrestling with his own emotions.

You used to chase your women right into your home

You used to tell them you love them over the telephone

Now they all see through you and you’re sinking like a stone.

No one’s knocking at your door

No one calls

How does it feel to be the big daddy of them all?

About the song, Mellencamp said: “Being a big daddy doesn’t mean you have to be rich and famous. There’s a little bit of big daddy in everybody, whether you’re the head of the kitchen at the restaurant or the head of a big record company.

“When I first started writing that song, I thought I was writing about that part of everyone, but I eventually realized I was writing the song about myself because if you’re a rock star, it’s real easy to take advantage of people by being a big daddy 24 hours a day.”

If there is any anger in the lines of “Big Daddy,” there is a sadness in “Void in My Heart” that mirrors equally Mellencamp’s state these days:

Been a parent, had three children

And a big house on the hill

Hundred dollars in my pocket

And it didn’t buy a thing

Now there’s a void in my heart

And a hole in my dream.

Mellencamp still lives in Bloomington, Ind., 45 miles from where he was born in Seymour. He sees his second wife, Vicky, and their three daughters almost every day, he said, even though they have been separated for nearly two years. He lives alone behind the imposing walls of a two-story home on the edge of town.

The rock star’s separation was recently splashed all over the pages of the National Enquirer, which suggested that he was a womanizer. He frowned when the story was mentioned, but he acknowledged he has to work on certain areas of his character.

“There is still somewhere in the back of my mind that little boy out behind the barn smoking a cigarette trying to get away with something,” Mellencamp said.

“I’ve got to deal with that or I’m going to end up . . . like the song says. . . . Being the big daddy of them all, . . . being 70 years old and just floating, . . . not being committed to anything or anybody except yourself, and that scares me.”

It’s ironic that Mellencamp is down on himself at a time when he has convinced once-doubting critics that he deserves a leadership role in rock.

There was a time when “arrogant,” “obnoxious” and “derivative” were the words most frequently applied to him by critics and other industry observers. Even after he broke into the Top 10 in 1981 with such hits as “Jack and Diane” and “Hurt So Good,” Mellencamp was frequently branded shallow and contrived.

The critical breakthrough for Mellencamp began in 1983 with “Pink Houses,” an ironic, bittersweet look at the state of the American Dream. His “Scarecrow” album in 1985 also signaled an increased maturity. Despite some minor moments, the album touched on a warmer, personal, socially-conscious tone.

Mellencamp gained more new admirers with 1987’s “The Lonesome Jubilee,” an album that had an even more original “heartland rock” tone. Along with such other veteran artists as Bruce Springsteen, Don Henley and Bob Seger, he seemed to be addressing an older rock audience: his contemporaries.

“Lonesome Jubilee,” he said at the time, was about a generation whose dreams haven’t come true, but that shouldn’t mean the end of those dreams. “We can waste our time by saying, ‘Damn it, I should have done this or I should have done that,’ but it’s all a shallow exercise unless you do more,” he said. “To me, rock ‘n’ roll was always about tonight. . . . Have a good time. But it was also about tomorrow, . . . the idea of doing something with your life.”

Instead of reflecting on the world around him, Mellencamp seems to be looking inward on the “Big Daddy” album.

“I don’t like to listen to a song like ‘Big Daddy,’ ” Mellencamp said. “When I first played the song to a couple of guys in the band, they just kind of went, ‘Do you really want to make this record?’ They knew exactly whom I was talking about.”

Rather than go on tour in support of his new album, Mellencamp is going to spend time working on his painting and thinking about his future. He’s planning to drive around the country, taking photographs for future paintings. That’s a dramatic move in an industry where touring is considered a key to selling an album.

“I really understand what John Lennon meant when he said ‘I’m not in this race anymore,’ ” Mellencamp said. “Ten years ago, they were words, but I relate to them now. It’s how I feel.

“It’s not important for me to be in this magazine or that magazine. The important thing is getting my life together and that’s what I’m concentrating on. I followed the rock ‘n’ roll dream for a long time and it has given me a lot of rewards, but it also distracted me from the things I need to work on . . . in my own life. I think it’s time now to start paying attention to them.”