He's picked his way through American music's backroads for years. Now he's arrived, via Paris, Texas, in Hollywood. Iain Blair trapped the six-stringed soundtrack man

The Chaplin Soundstage: outside the famous studio on the A&M lot in the middle of Hollywood it's hot — thanks to an unreasonably early heat wave. It's also busy — sweaty grips are unloading bits of film equipment while anxious-looking production assistants scurry in and out of a door marked "CLOSED SET — ABSOLUTELY NO VISITORS."

Inside, it's even hotter and busier — thanks to all the lights and an impromptu jam session led by guitarist Ry Cooder who's killing time in between takes doing what he loves best — singing and playing. He's here shooting the title track video for "Crossroads," the new Columbia Pictures release about the blues and its legacy, and Cooder, who scored the entire film, is enjoying himself immensely — as are all the crew members and extras.

The guitarist lets rip with a few burning slide licks and everyone present stops to watch and listen. Famous ghosts may still haunt the Little Tramp's former stomping ground, but right now they'd have a hard time finding anywhere to stand and tap their feet, let alone rattle their chains, as everybody crowds around the stage.

"The moment I read the script, I knew I had to do this film," explains Cooder later. It's easy to see why, for "Crossroads" — the title is taken from the classic Robert Johnson number — is that rarest of Hollywood creatures, an intelligent, sensitive and unsentimental tale about a dying artform that ironically fairly crackles with vitality and life thanks to some inspired direction from Walter "48 Hours" Hill, two fine performances from its stars, Joe Seneca and Ralph "Karate Kid" Macchio, and a haunting score from Cooder himself.

Seneca (who scored big with his work in "Silverado" and "The Verdict" plays Willie Brown (a.k.a. "Blind Boy Fulton"), an ageing Delta blues man, explains the guitarist. "He's reputed to be one of the all-time great harmonica players and singers to ever emerge from Mississippi, and an old friend of the legendary Robert Johnson. But like the long-dead Johnson, Willie has found fame short-lived and when we first meet him, he's languishing in a New York nursing home having been imprisoned years earlier for having killed another bluesman in a fight."

"He's befriended by an aspiring young bluesman played by Macchio, who eventually helps him escape back to the Delta in exchange for teaching him one of Johnson's lost songs," continues Cooder. "And that's how it all begins. There's a lotta humour, drama, folklore and feeling in this story, and that's what really appealed to me, along with the obvious fact that "Crossroads" deals with music I personally love, and opportunities to score this type of project just don't come along very often in Hollywood today."

Cooder should know. The celebrated guitarist and composer is a veteran of both the recording and scoring industries. Born and raised in Los Angeles, he's spent a lifetime studying and assimilating the entire spectrum of American music, from blues and country, to cajun, R&B and rock 'n' roll. Along the way, he's played with such diverse performers as Taj Mahal and Captain Beefheart, and recorded with everyone from The Rolling Stones to Arlo Guthrie and Randy Newman. And in between, he's released some ten solo albums, among them "Paradise and Lunch" (early gospel songs), "Chicken Skin Music" (Hawaiian slack-key and Tex-Mex accordion), and "Bop Till You Drop" (vintage rhythm and blues), adding up to a comprehensive and eclectic exploration of America's musical roots.

You've been doing soundtracks for quite a while now.

"Yeah, it all started way back in '69 when I worked with Jack Nitzche on "Performance". I played a lotta slide, and that was really my very first experience of doing a soundtrack, and I've enjoyed doing them ever since, and the freedom they give you to try out all sorts of things. Jack taught me a lot about how to write for film. He'd say, "Just look at the scene and play what you feel." Then I'd dig around in all my roots and let something float to the surface."

How did you get involved in "Crossroads"?

"Through Walter Hill. We've worked together on a lotta projects, starting with "The Long Riders" in 1980. Then I scored "Southern Comfort," "Streets of Fire" and "Brewster's Millions." I think we work well together, so when he called me about this one, I just jumped at the chance. It's rare that you get a film like this where the music plays such an integral part — it really is a main character, as opposed to your normal type of 'Hollywood' movie where you're busy trying to keep out of the way of all the talk."

Was it hard work, because there is so much in "Crossroads"?

"Yeah, it was a labour of love basically. For a start, it took over a year to do, 'cos there was a lotta music to wrangle up and a lotta songs to write. But I had a lotta fun doing it and it was pretty challenging."

I see you co-wrote some of the songs with Steve Vai (who appears as The Devil's guitarist and who is now with David Lee Roth), and Joe Seneca.

"Yeah, it worked out really well, 'cos Joe's also quite a songwriter himself you know. In fact, we all got real lucky with him, 'cos he turned in an incredible performance that, to me at least, totally transcends the usual Hollywood type role of the old black man, Uncle Remus stereotype — whatever you want to call it. He's just so natural in the role — not at all over-dramatic or corny — just very real. And that makes Ralph, who's also a very naturalistic type of actor, even stronger."

Macchio looks pretty convincing as a guitarist (he plays a prodigy studying at the Juillard Music School when we first meet him) — did you help coach him?

"(Laughs) Yeah, and it was a lotta work for both of us. I mean, he couldn't even play when he got cast, so we had to not only teach him how to play both blues and classical guitar, but how to look comfortable and natural with the instrument. I think he did an amazing job, and for a non-musician he's very convincing to me. It's a tough role, as a lot of the classical pieces at the beginning and end are extremely fast and very demanding 'cos they're so precise — and it all has to look precise. And obviously you can't use a double or totally fake it throughout the film. The blues bits were easier to fake for the cameras 'cos they're more kinda like a smear."

There's so little done on the blues in film today that it must have been quite a brave move on Walter Hill's part.

"You're right, and he's given the film a lotta depth, a lotta resonance. And that's real important when you're dealing with something as emotional as the blues. It's a tricky thing, 'cos the public's basically totally uninformed about blues, and Hollywood can't figure out how to make it commercial and sell it. But Walter's been very smart by taking a simple story about two people on a journey — and everyone can relate to that — and then making it work on several levels. Yes, it's a road story, but it's also about hero-worship and the story of the blues as well as being an intriguing metaphysical story. As one character says in the movie, "it's about good men feelin' bad." And that whole subtext of the blues is Walter's handle on it, which allows him to create a situation you can then call "A Hollywood Movie." And that way, hopefully it'll reach a wider audience."

Does it sadden you that blues is largely so ignored today?

"It used to, but not anymore. The sad truth is that it's practically dead of neglect anyway, but you also have to realize that it barely existed in the first place. It pretty much died off after the 20s and 30s, and now it's just a museum thing. You can tell that 'cos we all honour it culturally today. Everyone's quick to say "Blues is a great part of our native American culture," and shit like that. It's our third world sort of music. But then it's inevitable, I suppose, since the conditions and way of life down south that produced all the music have largely changed. Except Mississippi, which is still the same sort of place it was back then. In fact, it's even worse since there's no cotton industry anymore. What you won't find is blues that really lives. Frank Frost, who appears in "Crossroads", is probably the only guy left who stays in this little town and doesn't give a shit. He makes $10 a night playing in Greenville, and that's fine as far as he's concerned. Now, I don't think it's fine, and I'm sure he'd like to do better like everyone does. But then he's not on the folk circuit or the blues circuit or these showcase circuits guys like B.B. King got into. He's a throwback, and while there may be a few more like him buried out there somewhere, there sure aren't too many. It's sad, but you can't change it, 'cos conditions change, people change. Man, there just isn't that scene anymore."

How did you set about scoring "Crossroads"?

"Well, that whole background helped for gettin' the right feelin'. For a start, there's a lotta blues and music that you see in the film, so I tried to write a score that was also very impressionalistic and abstract — the problem was keeping a balance. I didn't want to make it exclusively the blues, on top of all the songs, or it'd just be too much. So I aimed for something that's more a reflection of the blues. It's a tone or feelin', and not just melancholy, but kinda quiet, so that when you go from a real intense scene to a more restful, lyrical moment — and there's a lot of scenes played out in the countryside — you get that blues vernacular to illustrate what the flashbacks are like, or what a sunset is like. I think it's quite a simple score, like the music itself, and hopefully it's equally effective for that."

Haven't you also just completed another soundtrack?

"Yeah, it's called "Blues City," and I was offered it during a slack period on Crossroads," and I thought it was such a different type of picture that it'd make a nice change. It's what the industry calls 'a youth picture,' though I hate that phrase, and it stars Ally Sheedy and Judd Nelson."

What sort of film is it?

It's an adaptation from an old Ross MacDonald detective story about a young kid who comes back home to the town where his father, who was the mayor, has been killed. Of course, he has to find out whodunnit, avenge the death, and prove himself along the way. So it's a pretty interesting movie for me to score 'cos it's a real, modern contemporary action piece, and so the music can't be what I'm used to — the atmospheric, moody, swamp kinda thing. So it gave me a chance to really stretch out in a score that's more direct like rock 'n' roll, like sad and happy. It's a very busy, lively score, and I'm pretty pleased with the results."

You seem to be doing more soundtracks than anything else these days.

"Yeah, it's my job now. I take it as that 'cos I've earned a living for the first time in my life over the past three of four years, and I don't have to go crazy doing it, or have to blow it all on hotels and planes etc. on the road."

You don't sound like you enjoyed the road very much.

"I didn't! The road was a total drag for me. I never made a dime and I lost a lotta money. I loved to play for everybody, but I honestly just can't make a living at it. But scoring movies is not only great fun, but far more interesting and stimulating for someone like me 'cos I'm used to using music as a tool, and taking the various elements and then making something completely new out of them. And writing music for film is the perfect opportunity to do that, 'cos you look at the visuals and just let your imagination soar. You can see what it is you're dealing with, like a puzzle, and I really like that."

Don't you miss playing live?

"Oh sure, but I like this a whole lot better than playing for two hours and then throwing away the other twenty-two — which is exactly what you do every damn day on the road. Yeah, I miss that onstage thing, but Man, it's no way live!"

Would you ever get another group together and start performing again?

"I don't know. Right now, my regular rhythm section is scattered all around doing different things, and it just doesn't seem possible to perform too often. The drag is I love to jam, work with the cats, hear 'em sing and play together. And that's something that doesn't happen too often nowadays, people really playing together, ensemble music. But I have a feeling that times are changin' and public tastes. Perhaps we're emerging from that whole era of drum machines and electronic stuff, and back to handmade music — 'cos people will always want to see live music. And it hasn't been around much lately. I mean, heavy metal bands don't play together — they wear hairstyles and clothes together, the same as trendy new-wave bands who appear in videos together. They're all more concerned with image and competition, and playing huge arenas, than the music. I mean, I've played those big 20,000-seat gigs, but it's really more to do with spectacle — people come looking for the same thing they've seen on TV. It's like tourism! But nothing beats the sheer magic of a few live musicians working out together in a club or small hall, and if people don't see it, they forget what they're missing. And most people don't see it. They'd rather stay home, watch TV, and listen to some hi-tech record untouched by human hand, and I think it's a great shame."

What about your own recording plans?

"Well, I'm thinking about going back in the studio to do another solo album. Maybe it's time to try again, but I'm in no real hurry right now, especially as I've got a few more film projects waiting in the wings. The great thing about Hollywood is that they make movies all the time, and with the emergence of the rock 'n' roll soundtrack, it's suddenly Big Business with many more styles of scores coming out today. And that's great for someone like me, 'cos someone's gotta score these movies, and it can't always be John Williams!"