Interview by The Watergirl

Here's what happens. I answer five questions. The first person to comment requesting an interview gets on talor-made by me and I'll come up with five questions for THEM to answer. And so on, and so on...

The questions below were sent to me by the inimitable Watergirl and think she did a smashing job. I mean, what great questions…


The interviwer helps the interviewee get a leg up.
(NOTE: Big white leg not to actually to scale.)
1. What are your top-five, all time, desert island albums?

Jesus, this is the toughest question ever. I guess I'll tackle it from the vantage point of which five albums have impacted me, the most thus justifying their journey to that desert island. The first would have to be something by Bowie so I'm going to cheat and say the Sound+Vision box-set makes the cut (the original Ryko version due to sentimental reasons even though it has less tracks than last year’s re-issue.)

Next would have to be Jane's Addiction's Nothing's Shocking since that album was the flash-point for me as far as my musical tastes were concerned. It sort of distilled everything I liked, from punk to classic rock, into one sound. I so used to want to be Perry Farrell.

Now it's getting tougher but I think Pavement's Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain would have to come along to sate the snarky black-rimmed glasses-wearing indie kid in me.

Next we’d have to include something by The Who and I won’t cop out with a greatest hits package although Meaty, Beaty, Big and Bouncy would be appreciated. No, I’m going to go with Quadrophenia since that was the disc that showed me a rock opera didn’t have to be about Jesus Christ in order to be epic.

Oh man, I’ve only got one left don’t I? Crap. I just don’t know. I remember old funk and soul used to have a huge influence on me but I don’t really know if I’d want something like that on a desert island with me. I think I’m going to forgo the rule about an album having to have had an effect on my development and go with something filled with layers that would unfold and never bore no matter how many times the disc was on “repeat.” That helps narrow it down to groups like Spiritualized, Mercury Rev or some of The Flaming Lips stuff. But I’m going to go with something a little out of left field and say the fifth disc would be the Sigur Rós album Ágætis Byrjun since it never sounds the same no matter how many times I play it.

Of course next week the five albums would probably be completely different but there you have it for now.

2. Most embarrassing drunken moment -- describe.

There are just so many I don't even know where to start but I'll give you two early ones that formed the template for behavior I tried hard to avoid in the following years.

Number one would be that first time I got drunk on a bottle of Southern Comfort in college, kept passing out in people's lawns on the way home, puked all over my bed and fell asleep in it and woke up to my friend Dave just going, "oh man...what DID you do to yourself?" To top it all off it was parent’s weekend so my Mom and little brother showed up later that afternoon. Mortifying.

The other would've been a Halloween party where my girlfriend Laura got pissed at me for being too drunk so she disappeared with another guy. I still don’t know what happened there. What I do know is I made it home, puked all over my bed, fell asleep in it and then was woken up by my friend Nancy, who took off all my clothes and put me in the shower while she changed all my sheets. I just hope the Little Tank made a good impression but something tells me the chilly dorm air didn't do me any favors.

3. You can have dinner with any author, living or dead. Who do you pick? Why?

David Foster Wallace is too obvious. Also, 'm not sure how much we'd really have to talk about. Just because you like someone's prose doesn't mean they'll make for scintillating conversationalists. Shakespeare is too hokey. I've already fucked it up with Kurt Vonnegut. So who?

Hunter S. Thompson. Even if I didn't like a single thing that came out of his mouth I'd have a blast (ha!) getting all loaded and blowing things up. And if I did get him to talk coherently? Gold, baby...gold.

4. If you could change ONE THING about your past, what would it be?

I would have stayed in town the weekend my dad died instead of going on the road with a band. I know that he told me to go and there was no way to possibly know he was going to pass aways that weekend. I also know I don't regret any of the good times I had on the road and I still hold those memories as some of my favorites in recent years. That still doesn't change the fact I wish I could have been there when my dad actually did die.

5. You are magically able to live one year of your life over and over again for eternity. What year do you pick and why? (We will accept one birthday to birthday year as an answer; for instance, age 23 or something).

This question may actually be tougher than the desert island discs one since each year definitely had its unique strengths. I mean I miss the wonder and seemingly unlimited energy and idealism of my younger years like when I was twenty and kissing lots of girls and singing in a band and writing all the time and pining over countless girls and so on and so on but then I think of the (limited) wisdom of later years and the friendships I've built. This actually ties in nicely to the dilemma that's been facing me in my personal life for a couple months now. How do I grow up without giving up the childish things I love? Can I? Is it possible?

So I'm going to choose nineteen as the magic year. I had finally escaped the high school where most folks thought I was a freak and had entered a college where I had lots of like-minded folks to hang out with. I was still on good terms with my first serious girlfriend and I was also meeting the girl who would blow my mind sexually and emotionally for the first time. The friends I was making were interesting and engaging and so much cooler than I thought people had any right to be. I was meeting the White Trash Girls and going to parties at 113 Cherry and my friend Lisa would come into town and we'd dose and kidnap Kenny Scharf for an entire night or we’d team up in Chicago and make the world tremble at our obviously superior feet.

Everything went and there were no boundaries or adult regret. It was topsy turvy, delightful and altogether terrifying. And I think it probably had the most impact on the sort of person I was solidifying into. Granted, at the time I was just a visual artist and I wouldn't really become a dedicated writer until I ran into a girl named Claudia a year or two later...but this was the moment in time when being the person I was seemed the most natural and easy.

Okay, that's it. I'm done. Drained.