Ridgway - "Success is a relative thing."

When I call singer Stan Ridgway at his Southern California home, he's literally packing the van that will take him on a two-week tour to celebrate the 25th anniversary of Wall of Voodoo's 1982 album, Call of the West. Ridgway formed the group in 1977, and Call of the West was its most significant album.

"That's what we're doing, man," says Ridgway in a matter-of-fact tone. "This is the time where you don't know if you're bringing too much or too little."

It's also the perfect time for Ridgway to reflect on a career that's been surprisingly fruitful, even though Voodoo was really only known for one "hit," the novelty tune "Mexican Radio."

"I just thought it was a good time to - and I say this with a sense of humor - feel nostalgic," Ridgway says. "It's a good time to look over our shoulder and get to the top of the hill and sound the trumpet and bring the old crowd back together. We've all had a number of things happen to us in the past 25 years, and it's time to march into the future, arm-in-arm and hand-in-hand. [There are] two guys [from Wall of Voodoo] who passed away, so that's not good. But the music can be celebrated. The album contains more than what a few people bargained for if they thought it only contained "Mexican Radio.'"

Indeed. The disc held the seeds of what would become Ridgway's infatuation with the Southwest, something that he'd develop further on his various solo albums and with his noise sideproject Drywall. It also introduced his lyrical style, which came across as something like a combination of crime novelist Jim Thompson and country legend Johnny Cash, all the while referencing small towns and strange characters.

"I have always thought there's so much space out there," he says of the West. "People go out there to get lost to find themselves. There's a lot of mystery out there. I'm often scratching my head and wondering what's going on in that tin shack. It has a lot of draw for me."

Ridgway promises this tour, for which he'll be backed by his wife Pietra Wexstun on keyboards and vocals, Rick King on guitar and bass, and Joe Berardi on drums, he'll revisit Call of the West as well as his solo records. And you can plan on hearing some of his pulp fiction-inspired spoken-word material as well. And if his solo stuff isn't as familiar as that first Wall of Voodoo album, it doesn't bother Ridgway, who says he's just happy his career has lasted as long as it has, even if he does still have to load his own gear.

"Success is a relative thing," he says. "I consider playing music all this time a rare thing. I'm happy to be doing it and grateful to be playing music. I'm not good at anything else. I could maybe do a talk show or something. But then, most of those people have failed miserably. Anything in art you put out is all hills and valleys, like anybody's life. "Mexican Radio' is the way a lot of people got introduced to us and we were kind of done then. But performing solo has allowed me to continue."

Ridgway says he has good memories of playing Cleveland over the last two decades and fondly recalls shows at the old Peabody's and at the Phantasy.

"I'm hoping that everyone shows up," he says in closing. "Cleveland can be a little sleepy."