FRANKIE MILLER: HE’S ROUGH & HE’S READY

When Paul Simon pays homage to the boxer, "a fighter by his trade," carrying his years with raw honesty, I am reminded of Frankie Miller. It's no coincidence that Simon's pre-"Rocky" hit is set in hostile New York. As Frankie listened to the playback of Double Trouble in the Record Plant's Studio B in the heart of Times Square, he, too, belonged here. Though it's after 4 p.m. on a cold winter weekend, to Miller the time is still morning, and he will drink nothing stronger than orange juice, at least for now. He appears to have drawn a clear line between hanging out in the studio and working there, and as his album nears its completed mix under the production eye of Jack Douglas, Miller's thoughts rest soley with his job.

Jack Douglas' blastomatic rock guidance superimposed on Frankie Miller's Scottish soul comes as a shock, albeit a pleasant one. For the first time in his five albums, Miller has allowed someone else to impose some outside control, and he's delighted with Douglas' decisive hand. "Jack was the most positive producer I met," he said in an accent thick enough to cut glass, "and his whole vibe was right, his whole outlook on music, especially American music. Finally, I've come across on an album as being a full person instead of maybe just a voice over something else. I think probably the songs I write have been the same all the time. But he's pulled them out to where they should be, especially for the many different types of people that like rock 'n' roll. Maybe I've had too much to say in a lot of what I've been doing before. I'd rather have had everyone in the studio and. said, ooooh-kay, letttt's go, ba doop doop [Frankie Miller's wire-tight reflexes will never allow him to accurately parody laid-back, but you get the picture]. If Jack can pull out more aggression than I can and get it out of meself, then I'm a happy man."