You were born in Chilliwack but grew up in Vanderhoof. What were your musical influences growing up in a small northwest B.C. town?

I only spent a few years in Vanderhoof. Our family moved a lot, and Vanderhoof was one of many stops along the way. That’s where I joined my first band, at age 13.

As far as influences, Bob Williams, the school-band teacher was very supportive. There was a shop on the main street where you could buy records, and the radio station played “rock music” for a whole hour, every Saturday morning! Other than that it was pretty slim. Maybe that was a good thing, because you had to work hard to stay motivated.

Did you have an ear for music from an early age or is it something you had to work hard at to learn?

I wasn’t interested in music as a child. I was into comic books and the New York Yankees. But everything changed when The Beatles arrived in ’64, when I was 11. I learned to play guitar, bass and drums by listening to Beatle records.

Was it always a desire for you to be a songwriter or did you also share aspirations of playing and performing on stage as well?

I played in a few bands over the years, but bands are too “democratic.” I don’t like how the weakest member has an equal say. With songwriting, it’s not about pushing your idea, it’s making sure the best idea wins. That’s how you write good songs.

You have played a major role in Canadian songwriting history over the past 20 years but you live in almost total anonymity. Why have you chosen to stay out of the limelight?

Songwriters don’t get a lot of attention, which is fine by me. I’ve been with Bryan (Adams) and Ozzy (Osbourne) when they’ve been accosted by paparazzi. Just awful. Who’d wish for that? But once you put yourself out there, once the genie is out of the bottle, you can’t just say, “OK, I don’t want to be famous anymore.”

Where do you look for inspiration when writing the lyrics/music to a song?

Writing lyrics is like connecting dots. If you can come up with an opening line then the next line will often be obvious, and so on. Inspiration is rare. It’s plain hard work. You just keep drafting and re-drafting until you get it right.

Is it hard to write a song lyric and then step aside and let someone else write the music, or do you like to be involved in the total creative evolution of a song?

There might be one or two times when I’ve worked exclusively on lyrics, but generally I’m involved with music and lyrics, right from the start.

Both you and record producer Bruce Fairbairn were part of the musical team behind Prism’s original album, which produced several classic tunes such as Spaceship Superstar. You played drums under the pseudonym of Rodney Higgs. What was the thinking behind using a different name other than your own?

Rodney Higgs was a complete cop-out and I’m still embarrassed by it, 30 years later. The Prism album was the first time my songs had been recorded. I was terrified the album would fail, so I used a “stage-name.” That way they could blame Rodney Higgs instead of Jim Vallance. As it turns out, the album was quite successful.

Why did you choose not to stick with Prism when that first album was met with commercial success?

Half the members were serious about getting the arrangements right, but the other half refused to rehearse, they just wanted to “jam”. As the main songwriter I was caught in the middle. The bickering was so incessant that I quit the band.

How did you come to meet Bryan Adams and forge a writing partnership?

We met by chance at a music shop in Vancouver in 1978. I’d just quit Prism and Bryan had just left Sweeney Todd, so we were both “unemployed.” We traded phone numbers and got together a few days later.

Did you have any sense at that time that Adams was going to be a success on some level in the music business?

He was 18, he had no money and he was living with his mom, but he had loads of talent, energy and ambition. You just knew he was going somewhere.

Do you have songs you wrote with Adams that have special personal meaning for you or are just particular favourites?

I’ve written more than 100 songs with Bryan. Never once did we sit down and say, “Hey, let’s write a bad song today.” We always tried our best, but naturally some songs are better than others. I think Run To You is pretty good. We spent a lot of time getting the guitar riff just right, and I like the interplay between the bass and drums. Summer Of ’69 is another favourite. I think it tells a good story.

How did you and Bryan work together when writing songs. Were you apart, in the studio together?

Adams: These days we use Skype and email, we’re seldom in the same town at the same time. But back in the ’80s, we’d sit nose-to-nose in my studio and hammer out ideas, 12 hours a day, seven days a week.

What’s your take on how Adams has managed to remain a worldwide music phenomenon for such a long time?

If you’ve seen him perform then you already know half the secret. He’s an amazing singer, and he works really hard on stage. He doesn’t expect the applause, he earns it, one song at a time. And he has a substantial catalogue of material. He can play a two-hour show and the audience knows every word. Not many artists can do that.

Why do you think Vancouver was such a creative hotbed for new up and coming bands and musicians in the late 1970s and early ’80s?

There were excellent school-band programs in Vancouver in the 1960s and ’70s, which produced a generation of top-notch musicians. Sunshyne, the band that became Prism, included some of those grads. There was also a vibrant club scene on the west coast. Hundreds of musicians working six nights a week, all over town. We all learned from each other.

After your split with Adams as co-songwriters, you became a song doctor for many other artists. Talk about your experience working with Aerosmith?

I don’t really like the “song doctor” thing…I seldom “fix” songs, I write them from scratch. That’s how it was with Aerosmith. We wrote most of Rag Doll the first day we met. It was awkward at first because they didn’t want to work with outsiders, but their record company forced them into it. But once they heard the results they actually asked to come back for the next album, a year later.

What is the attraction of collaborating on writing songs with other artists as opposed to writing your own tunes?

Some things are more enjoyable when you do them with someone else —dinner, a movie…and songwriting!

Seriously, when you have another person to bounce ideas off, and to contribute ideas as well, it can only get better.