The importance of being Henry Rollins
by Geoff Hineman
 

Henry Rollins’s pop culture debut came in 1981 as the front man for legendary punkers Black Flag. Five years and seven albums later, he set out on his own, becoming the renaissance man for an entire generation. Henry has cut 13 albums with Rollins Band, appeared in such films as Lost Highway and Johnny Mnemonic, created a publishing house, and done endless spoken word touring. His latest tour, “Shock and Awe, My Ass” (at the Michigan Theater on February 15) promises to deliver the energy, wit, and insight that have been his trademark for over 20 years.


A2P: How’s the tour going so far?
HR: Oh, good. It’s about a week in. It’s got a very long way to go. It’s like six or seven shows in and there are like sixty booked, so I’ve got a lot to prove.


A2P: You’re a pretty do-it-yourself kind of person, what kind of advice could you give to younger people out there who are trying to make it in music, or books, or on stage, or whatever?
HR: Well, I can tell you what I’ve always done, as a way of advice. I just did what I wanted to do, and suffered the slings and arrows that came with it. Past that, I don’t know what else to tell someone, besides, “Do what you feel is right.” There are a lot of different motivations for getting on stage. Some people want to be famous and keep the money. Some people want to express themselves and the money—or making a living at it —is not a concern, which is kind of convenient; it’s difficult trying to blend the two and stay credible. When you mix art and commerce it’s always a little… you know. You have to play that one by ear and hope you’re doing the right thing.


A2P: Further on that subject then, you’ve probably heard that Wayne Kramer took a little heat in England for letting MC5 properties go to Levi’s for commercial purposes. Iggy’s got “Lust for Life” on a cruise ship commercial, and Jello Biafra and the rest of the Dead Kennedys have been warring back and forth about letting some of that catalog go for commercial purposes.
HR: Personally, knowing how a lot of these people live, I think it’s really cool that the MC5 are acknowledged as creating some of the greatest rock and roll that’s ever been. So what if it’s on TV? Wayne’s not living in a castle, and he’s probably doing the best of all the MC5 guys—the ones that are still alive. When I hear The Buzzcocks on a VW ad or something, for me, it’s just awesome. I can see where Jello’s coming from where he thinks it’s repellent, but, when I hear that, I go, “Way to get paid. Nice one.” I always love it whenever I hear Iggy. I’ve heard “Raw Power” used by Nike, and stuff like that. “Lust for Life” has been used a number of times. I dig it. If someone came to me said, “We want to use this for this ad,” I don’t know if I would do it. It would have to depend on the song and the ad. But I can’t help liking it when I hear it with other people. I just feel like, “yeah, stay fed!”


A2P: You mentioned Iggy—
HR: Yeah he’s pretty much my numero uno hero, as far as frontman go. He’s just the ultimate. The Stooges Funhouse album, to me, is the greatest rock-and-roll album ever made. It’s just the sexiest, most dangerous, evil genius, primitive record that you wish you had done, and you know you will never do anything remotely that good. It’s been a huge album for me since I first heard it.


A2P: A lot of newer “garage rock” bands seem to have more in common with that older school of punk than say, Good Charlotte or Blink 182. Have you heard much by The White Stripes or The Strokes—
HR: I heard the first Strokes record, which I thought was a cool indie record. What I think got annoying was the hype and how they were these boy models and the music was just an accessory to their hair. But if you don’t know what they look like — or rather, how they’re being imaged — and you just listen to the record, it’s a cool record. The singer sounded like he was doing a Loaded-era Lou Reed. They seemed to have two different songs they kept doing over and over, like two different settings. And The White Stripes, I’ve heard about half an album and it seems like the guy is real cool, like he’s really into it. He’ll probably be writing songs the rest of his life.
But I’m 43. If there’s a young person singing about the girl that left him, I can respect it, of course, and I can dig it, but I don’t miss women like that—like I did when I was 16. When you get to be my age, and they leave—and they always do—you approach it from a more Tom Waits-ian perspective of “Oh, it must be Thursday.”


A2P: What’s the last thing you heard that really made you think, “those guys have it.”?
HR: There are three bands on Dischord records that I’m just a huge fan of. There’s a band called The Black Eyes, which put out my favorite record of last year.

There’s another band on Dischord called Q and Not U, which I really am a huge fan of, and another band called El Guapo. One of the Q and Not U guys wrote me the other day and said, “Wait until you hear the new El Guapo record! If you thought the last one was good, this one is going to destroy you!” And whenever they do a record, you think, “That’s going to be their best one,” and the next one comes out and it leaves the other one in the dust. Their last record is called Fake French, and it’s just an amazing piece of work. I can’t wait to hear what happens next, because they just seem to keep evolving.


A2P: Who inspires you?
HR: Muhammad Ali for one. He said what he said, and when he said it—being a black guy in America—that could get you shot. He would talk the talk and then he’d go out there and knock the guy out and it would look like poetry. The whole time you keep asking, “How are you pulling this whole thing off?”
Ian MacKaye, the guy from Fugazi, I grew up with him. I’ve known him going on 30 years. He’s a pretty huge guy in my life.
I get a lot of inspiration from Chuck Dukowksi of Black Flag. He taught me a lot. Those guys were kind of older than I was, and Greg [Ginn] and Chuck kind of raised me. Chuck is like the older brother I never had.
My main inspirations, though, are not as much musicians as writers: guys like Thomas Wolfe, F. Scott Fitzgerald. I’ve actually been to the apartment where he died. It’s down the street from me. A girl who was interning at my place one summer, was doing a term paper on The Lost Generation writers. She said, “Hey, I just went by the apartment where F. Scott died. They’re painting it; it’s open! Let’s go!” So we grabbed our cameras and we ran over there. I went to the fireplace where he keeled over. I stood there and checked it out. Kind of morbid, but kind of cool.

If I could grab a bunch of people back from the dead, and get to hang out with them, for me it would be writers—people like: Kafka, Camus, Rimbaud, F. Scott, or Henry Miller. These are people I would do anything to meet.


A2P: What’s something you’d like to do, but haven’t had the opportunity to do yet?
HR: At this point, I would just like to be better at what I’m doing. I’d like to try to be a better writer. I’d like to refine myself on stage. But there’s nothing I want to do that I haven’t done—that I can think of. I’m not itching to be a dad or anything.

There are some countries I want to go to, and I hope I can see them before I die. They’re “hot zones” and don’t seem to be cooling off, politically: parts of Africa, parts of Asia. Hopefully I can get to some of those places. I tried to go to Cambodia late last year, and it’s tricky getting in and out of there with the visas and whatnot. I’m going to try to get to Phnom Penh late this year.


A2P: Any impressions of Ann Arbor?
HR: I’m looking forward to the show. I’ve always had a good time there. It’s such a nice part of Michigan. It seems to be a more relaxed, progressive, and open-mind place, historically. I like to book in record stores there. So, I’m looking forward to the show and I hope it’s not too cold. I always find myself in Ann Arbor in one of the winter months. There’s people waiting for me after the show, and I try and get off stage to get out there and sign their stuff so they can get home, because they will wait. And you just see them: freezing people. Those are my memories of Ann Arbor, just people with their jaws clamped together going, “Hey, man!” So I’ll be trying to get out there fast after the show. A2P

   
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