Five Easy Pieces: Random Thoughts During September ’07
You know, Mikey was great. He was fucking great. I saw him 3 or 4 times, but I never saw his face. This song is my Wagner in Apocalypse Now. This is what I want to listen to when I want to take the beach. – William Taylor Hill, Jr.
I thought that I would share what my father said to me when we listened to Surprise Valley while taking the RV to Tuscaloosa. Theres something about bringing your dad on board
Bonnaroo, 5:45 am Sunday morning. Randy Ray, Dean, Mike and I have put the Beacon to bed and Randy and I scamper out. We see Wayne Coyne walk by. He doesnt see us. No one there but the two Which Stage security guards. He stops, chats with them for a minute, and he leaves and they have huge grins on their faces. If character is how you act when no one is watching, Wayne Coyne defines character. His impeccable manners extend to five in the morning when hes still striking the equipment from the stage, not only to his own road crew, but to temporary help.
I did a fairly douchey thing a few weeks ago, and put my tickets for Widespread Panic at the Ryman on eBay to pay for half a dozen other concert trips. Some jerk from Birmingham named Christopher Waltman bought my tickets and then gave me negative feedback out of spite. Ive wondered if I am a jerk, too, for putting them on eBay. Ive come to the conclusion that the answer is probably yes, and I hope its worth it to cover the Voodoo Music Festival, Ben Harper, Dr. Dog, Regina Spektor, and a few other concerts Im going to try and make it to off of the proceeds. But still, crossing that line and cashing in on my tickets was a hard one, and I cant pass that off by focusing on someone on eBay who acted in bad faith.
I am still waiting for Ratdog to bring Nancy Pelosi onstage to play cowbell. Are you reading this, Matt and Dennis?
Heres a new interview technique to try for those who do interviews: I have an interview running this month with Billy Bob Thornton. He was as cool as he seems. Hollywood publicists do NOT mess around, and I had a 150 page press kit with six glossy 8 × 10s priority-overnighted to me from his publicists. In all of the interviews, he gave short answers. I wanted long ones, and was trying to figure out how to crack him and get him to open up. All these far better journalists (those who actually make money) had tried and hadnt done it, and I wondered what manipulative tack I could take to get him to open up. So I tried this, and it worked: I asked him to crack himself. I asked him to say whatever came to mind even if it wasnt part of my question and to bring up anything under the sun. It amazes me that you can get a good interview out of someone by asking for a good interview. Sometimes, not being crafty is the best way to be crafty. So if you want long, detailed answers, try asking for them.