Maybe some things are better the second time around. You have to believe that that's the case for Julian Lennon, who embarked on a career in music in 1984, only to be compared relentlessly and mercilessly to his martyred father, John, whom he mostly knew from afar while being raised by his mother. After a Top 10 hit with "Too Late for Goodbyes" from his debut album Valotte, Lennon ran into a critical brick wall that sunk subsequent albums like The Secret Value of Daydreaming, Mr. Jordan and Help Yourself.

Lennon quit the music business and repaired to his home in Northern Italy, where he reflected on his life and pursued other interests, including architecture, interior design and cooking. Eventually, he began playing again, and decided to take another run at music -- but this time on his own terms. He recorded his new album, Photograph Smile, at his own expense and released it via his own indie label, Music From Another Room.

The album finds Lennon staking out his own territory at last on songs like the Eastern-influenced "Crucified" as well as some lovely ballads and the cheekily Beatlesque "I Don't Wanna Know."

According to Lennon, the best thing about Photograph Smile is that it offers him a chance to square his position in music history a bit, and perhaps even settle a few scores: "The gratifying thing about this record is the reviews -- which have been the best I've ever had in my life -- it's very much like a bonus," he says. "Like being able to stick my finger up at all those friggin' assholes back then who held me back."

He is, when all is said and done, his father's son.

You made a run at the music business in the Eighties, but then disappeared for most of this decade. Did you always believe you'd get another chance, or did you think maybe you'd had your day?

I wasn't sure I was gonna get back into music, because I thought it was an awful nightmare business, and had nothing to do with music whatsoever. The experience I had of doing albums, which was coming off the road and being ordered to go into the studio and record a hit album in two months, when I'd just come off a world tour -- I was not a happy camper. After my demise with the second album, which I totally blame Atlantic Records for -- which now they admit to, a little friggin' late, if you ask me -- it was ten years of playing catch-up to try and get some respect back. There was so little time to experiment, so a lot of that was done on albums, and that doesn't favor well with the public or with critics when they want to see some consistency in what you're doing.

So what changed to make you decide to have another go at it?

The approach I'm taking now is far from the routine of the music industry. These days, I'm the yes-no man. It's about me and my career and my life, which is the way it should have been in the first place, really. I can wake up in the morning and look in the mirror and know that I've made the decisions, and know that I haven't stabbed myself in the back or lied to myself. I believe in what I'm doing, and I'm gonna support it 100 percent, unlike the music industry.

The other thing that happened, though, was, because I had so much time to think, I just looked back at my career, and I didn't want to leave the last couple of albums as my legacy in the music industry. It's just not good enough. I wanted to do an album I was wholly proud of, one that I had total control over. I have to be thankful I got the chance. If I hadn't done this, I probably would have regretted it for the rest of my life.

The other night when you were on Letterman, you were wearing a T-shirt that said "Lennon and Proud Of It." Have you become more comfortable with your father's legacy?

Abso-friggin-lutely. As far as I was concerned, most of the shadow was a media thing. And the critics always took it to another level. For me, I felt like an alien, rather than "the son of," although I was being promoted as "the son of." And the problem was, every album that I released was being compared to the Beatles' entire catalog rather than where they were at the same age and level of experience I was in my life. I felt that was unfair to say the least. It's like when people ask me about Oasis -- it's very obvious there are comparisons to be made, but at the end of the day, do you like the song or don't you?

It seems unfair that everybody else can draw on your father's music, but you can't.

Right. That's one of the reasons why I did a song like "I Don't Wanna Know." After I felt like I'd proved my own self worth as a writer with the rest of the material, I said, well, maybe I'll have a bit of a giggle with this, and write something that's so Beatlesque, and so mid-Sixties, and sing it as close to dad as possible, and just wait for those guys to say, "Well, you sound so much like him." It was time for me to finally say, "Well, yes I do. And now that we both agree, can we move on from this laborious point that you've been droning on about for fifteen years?"

For years you had to battle those comparisons with your father. Do you feel like now the public has set up a sort of competition between you and Sean?

No, that's all media crap as usual. What happened was, that sort of burst out in Europe in so many of the tabloids that we were in this artistic battle of the Lennon sons, and who was gonna come out on top, and all of this. There was none of that. Sean and I were, more often than not, having a cup of tea or a drink down the road having a great chat about life while all of this stuff was going on. It's just the usual thing to start aggravation and to sell papers.

So now that you've got the record out there, what are your other ambitions?

There are so many talented people out there, and unfortunately, they get thrown to the wayside because they don't have a chart-topping hit. And that's wrong in my eyes. Hopefully, with the success of the album, and hopefully, the company, I'll be able to introduce other artists who I feel are incredibly talented on their own terms. And let them express themselves. I don't feel there is enough of a forum for them. As with myself.

Hmm ... I've got one word for you, Julian -- Apple.

Yeah, I know about Apple, thank you very much. Listen, that was run very badly, and screwed so many people over. But my point of view is that there is a niche out there for me and for people who write serious songs. If I can make that happen, then I'll certainly try.

DANIEL DURCHHOLZ
(February 24, 1999)