DEE SNIDER: LET’S TWIST AGAIN

“I kind of see myself in the future as a cross between Phil Collins and Bette Midler.” —Dee Snider

Growing up on Long Island in the second half of the 1970s, it was impossible to avoid Twisted Sister. They were the biggest thing on the bar scene then, and if by chance you somehow managed to avoid their popular glam-gore live show, you couldn’t miss their ubiquitous radio ads. A girl I had a crush on in high school was a Twisted groupie. A guy I met in my first music-biz job gave me a copy of their debut indie single. Arrrgh! I had to get out.

Couldn’t get away from ’em, though. By the time I escaped Long Island, the band was making a big splash in the U.K., which meant that the record stores in this country were loaded with British Twisted Sister imports. Before long, they got an American record deal and became huge here too. The suckers were everywhere— my mom saw Dee Snider in a supermarket once, a couple of years before the lovable mouthmeister was called to represent the metal world at those farcical Senate/PMRC hearings.

The Twisted fellows dropped from sight for a while after the release of their last LP, the lackluster Come Out And Play, taking time out for a round of battery-recharging. Now, just when you thought it was safe to turn on MTV, Twisted Sister is in our faces again, with a new album (Love Is For Suckers), a new drummer (former Good Rat Joe Franco—he's from my hometown, yippee!), and a lean-andmean new image. There’s no escape now, as this Q&A with Sister Snider will make abundantly clear.

I don't understand your album title, Dee. As a husband and dad, how can you say that love’s for suckers?

Because it is man. It’s the one emotion that makes people act totally irrationally, and makes us do and say things we wouldn’t do or say in our wildest dreams. And no matter how many times we get hurt by it, we always go back for more. Slip Mahoney (note: Slip Mahoney was one of the Bowery Boys. No room here to explain who the Bowery Boys were. Ask your mom) said it—he pushed his hat back on his head and said, “Ahhh, love is fer suckahs.”

Oh, well, that’s OK, then. What’s the first thing people usually ask you in interviews?

Hmmm. . .“Where ya been?”

OK, where ya been?

We were taking a long-needed break from Twisted Sister. We’ve been together 12 long years, and after 11 we realized that we were kind of tired and played-out and uninspired. We played bars non-stop for six years before we got a deal, and then since we got a deal we’d toured and recorded constantly. We needed to get away and freshen up and then come back and play because we wanted to, not just because it was on the schedule.

You cancelled a bunch of dates, didn’t you?

Yeah, we cancelled them because A.J. (drummer A.J. Pero) left the band. But realistically, we could have gotten another drummer and finished them out—we just didn’t feel inspired to do so. The last album, Come Out And Play, hadn’t done as well in the United States as we wanted it to—it did very well in Scandinavia and parts of Europe. We really lacked a lot of fire to get out there and do it, so we used A.J.’s departure as an excuse to say, “Good, let's break early, we can’t go on like this much longer.”

How did you spend your time off from the band?

I’m pretty much a creative workaholic, so I kept busy. I wrote a book, Dee Snider’s Teenage Survival Guide, for Doubleday, I produced an album for the band Envy, and I acted in a couple of things—a Bob Goldthwaite special for Cinemax and an episode of Beans Baxter for the Fox network. I’m also writing a movie. Plus I wrote a whole bunch of songs and worked on the new Twisted album. I was home, but I was busy nonstop; it’s good that I was doing other creative things and working with people outside of the band, getting fresher input and fresh ideas.

/ noticed that the band has altered its image somewhat—you’re not wearing make-up, and you’re dressing more butch.

I think the band has some image problems, and I think we’ve been misunderstood by some people, because of the press overblowing certain aspects.

You mean it’s my fault?

No, it’s just that certain aspects of the band got promoted more than others. Mainly the image side of it—the way we looked, the videos, my mouth, and the whole image that the PMRC had of us. That’s why this year we dropped the make-up and the costumes, and that’s why there’s been no big fanfare with this album. We want this album to be judged for the music, not “Oh, you’re so crazy,

I loved your funny video.” If we’re gonna keep going, we’re gonna have to get some respect.

People had started to perceive us as kind of a comedy act. From the beginning, we had always planned to be half metal and half glitter, and we’d become 90 percent metal and 10 percent glitter. We had always wanted to be half image and half music, and we’d become 90 percent image and 10 percent music. We had to make a real conscious effort to get back into balance, so we’re coming back with no make-up and no costumes, an album cover without a pop-up or a screaming face on it, a non-comedy video, and songs with actual melody and actual playing.

Twisted Sister has definitely become a household word, but is it a good household word? We were in Kate And Allie— Kate’s goin’ out with this weird guy, and she’s dressed kind of punky. Allie says “Where are you going?” Kate says “To a Twisted Sister concert,” and the audience breaks up. So our name is used mainly to represent the worst kind of rock V roll band. I was a $300 question on Jeopardy— it wasn’t the bonus question, but still... In Children Of A Lesser God, when William Hurt finally gets this deaf kid to talk, the first words out of his mouth are “Twisted Sister.” But the name Twisted Sister has really come to represent the nastiest, craziest kind of rock 'n' roll band, which really isn’t what we’re all about. It’s like we’ve got Motley Crue’s image connected to our name.

If it’s any consolation, I’d sooner have you guys over for dinner than I would the Crue. They’d probably break the dishes and puke on the floor, whereas you’d be more likely to leave the toilet seat up.

Absolutely, and younger people know that we aren’t the scourge of the earth. But their parents think we are. On our last tour, our merchandise was failing miserably, because the kids couldn't come home with Twisted Sister shirts on, because they couldn’t let their parents know they were at the show. Kids weren’t being allowed to go to the shows, shows vere being banned, we were being nied permits because we're TwistepfS1 -ter. But I think we've always bedp pre ! responsible about what we comjjiun gfcated—the whole Twisted Siste ^insanity, but with an edge ol it. where you know that nobody S3x>nna get hurt. y

DEE SNIDER: LET'S TWIST AGAIN

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So you Ve put a lot of work into chang, ing your image?

It sort of fell into place. We started reexamining what we had set out to be and comparing that to what we had become, and it became obvious that some things had gotten off the track. So we’re playing down the image aspect, and playing

up the music side of it—no more make-

rh/ up. no more outrageous costumes— * 1 we're still dressing for the stage, but in more traditional rock garb. No more outn-iivi iandish stage productions, no more funftlfy videos—I’m not saying you’ll never see '•--"'•'.■'us do that stuff again, but as of right now, we’ve made a conscious effort to stay away from it. We’ll still be runnin' around like wildmen onstage, and we certainly haven’t become average-looking.

Is the music on Love Is For Suckers more personal for you?

Musically, yes. Lyrically, no. for the most part. Although there are songs like “Wake Up” and "You're All I Need'' and "One Bad Habit,” which e-xpress personal feelings of mine. But basically. I'm hav-

ing such a good time now that I've basic*/.

ally been writing songs about f.an$if

the depth of the emotion in the lyricajfi ‘ about as deep as it takes you to com’^^:> Before, I was always so angry and hos\iie jj that every song was a personal state; ment. whereas now it’s much more of a

fun thing.

I'll tell you something, and you may find is hard to believe, but I haven’t really 1 myself musically in the last 10 ie, Twisted Sister was®| Tattle, and I was always in pf I was performing. It was an enwtior angry way of venting frustration sfid hostility. and trying to get the attention I felt I deserved. I'm a happier person now, and now I can just play tor the sheer enjoyment of it. I used to throw myself around onstage like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. And now I’m still running around, but I’m laughing, for the first time.

What changed your attitude?

(Sings) Money, money changes everything. . .1 sang about not having success—I got success. I sang about not having money—I got money. I sang about not having respect—people kiss my ass now. I walk down the street now and there’s people cheering and shouting and waving—in the old days, they'd be booing and hissing. I've got everything I wanted, so I’m not so angry. The old hostility still will pop up at times—“Wake Up” is probably the most angry song I’ve ever written, because I felt very much hung out to dry in Washington. I made a stand, and everybody else said “So what?” So “Wake Up” is a very hostile song—it basically advocates the violent overthrow of the government.

Are you still involved in the whole PMRC/censorship/labeling debate?

No, I bailed. I’ve been asked by a couple of people who were trying to do something, and I’ve said “Look man, I did my bit. My phones were tapped, my mail was checked, my packages were being sniffed by dogs, my name became mud, and nobody came out and backed me up. I stood up, now let other people stand up, and then I’ll come and join you.”

You were under surveillance? I never heard about that.

Well, you wouldn’t have, because it was very personal, and I haven’t really talked about it because I haven’t done press for a while. But yeah, my mail was being checked and everything like that. That’s the way the government works— when they’ve got somebody that they feel is a potential threat, they try to get as much information on him as they can, to see if they can get anything to hold against him. I know about the mail and the packages because the post office people and the Fed Ex people are my friends, and they said “Hey Dee, be careful, they’re checkin’ your mail, they've been questioning me.” And you know the phone’s tapped when the phone don’t hang up, or when you hear three people hang up the phone, or you pick up the line and it’s open and you can’t get a dial tone. They did it with Ralph Nader when he was starting to cause problems for them—they tried to get some dirt, to ruin him, but they couldn’t. And they couldn't with me either.

Washington was a frightening experience. It’s built up in your mind as this great thing, but it was a very dirty experience. I realized that the people who run our government are not smarter than JS and they’re not better than us—if anything, they may be a little less smart id a little lousier. Those people would h /e shot me if they could. They hated me, ecause I made them look like fools, ie press covered it up, because all ie Washington press likes to be called ay their first names at senators’ press conferences and they couldn’t care I ss about me.

So you’ve lost your faith in our govt nment? Has it changed your attitude toward your work?

Hell, yeah. I’ve given up on tryinc to make statements. Believe it or not, th ire were a lot of subtleties in Twisted Sir er, and a lot of things that nobody really ippreciated. I never wrote songs about iolence, sex, drugs and alcohol, but I not accused of doing all of that, and it’s b an accepted as fact by this point. So I've nst said, “F— it, why bother trying to be etter than everybody else?” So when I wrote this record, I thought a lot about

f-. They wanted all my records to

be labeled, when they shouldn’t have been labeled. And the new one as checked for a label, and it passed without a label—but it should have been labe ad, because it’s all about f-.

I’ve gotten a bit bitter, actually, a out a lot of things. I always believed that 30were smarter than they got credit for, now I’ve discovered that they’re not as smart. Kids have just become so ap-uhetic since the ’60s, and instead of le, ng well enough alone and letting kids lav ound stoned listening to rock ’n’ roll, th ? people have gotta f— with them. E‘ tually the kids are gonna wake up, ju ike they did in the ’60s, and these pv fe will feel the wrath. But the apathy in illy hairy now, and I just hope things a t too far gone by the time people dec;i to wake up to the conservatism that’s t; g over our country.

So, you’ve abdicated your position as S' esman-for-the-youth-of-America? ever took it. They asked me to go to hington and talk, so I went. I spoke ’lit myself and tried, by proving to them tt ■ they were wrong about me, to make i :) see that they were probably wrong t the others, too. But that didn’t happ so I said f— it.

there a big difference between what re like onstage and what you’re like , eome with your family?

eople assume that there’s a big diff. -nee, but it’s much less than you’d ti nk. This family thing kills me—as soon you say you’ve got a family, people :k I go home and turn into Robert jng. Hasn't anyone ever heard of the dams family? That’s what my house is 1 e. I’ve got a lot of cars, and the one we /e to go shopping and stuff is a 1950 dillac hearse with a coffin in the back, d we let our kid dress the way he nts—at his nursery-school graduation, fhe other kids were there with their lit1 ties and he’s dressed as Rambo. en I say the word ’’family,” people imdiatelv think my home life is like Leave > Beaver— no, man, it’s more like The nsters. It’s a big misperception.

But I guess I don’t take as much of the ge character home with me as I used When you’re a kid, you have all this •rgy and you find a direction for it,

: nething which allows you to focus your dural energies. And soon, you find that ■u’re able to separate the things totaland use that thing as the outlet for cern parts of your personality. And once becomes part of your job, you don’t ■nt to do it so much when you’re not rking. There was a time when I would alk around the streets with make-up on, d after a while I thought, “Why?” With all of your non-musical projects, e you trying to establish yourself as an -around showbiz renaissance dude? see myself doing all sorts of creative lilt, and I do wanna get more into acting nd writing. But I’m a musician first and "emost. and it’s the major thing in my life. That’s got to come first. I kind of see myself in the future as sort of a cross between Phil Collins and Bette Midler.

A short balding man with large breasts?

No, I mean, the way Bette Midler started out in gay bars and came out with that outrageous image and hit with a novelty song and developed that into a position as a serious actress. Phil Collins went from the avant-gardeness of the original Genesis to the more mature new Genesis and his solo albums. I think everybody kind of figured that those people wouldn’t be able to grow after “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” or after Peter Gabriel left Genesis. People didn’t think they could grow, and I think people have the same perception of Twisted Sister. Because it took so many years, people assumed that Twisted Sister is the peak of our careers, but it’s just the beginning. Whether we keep going as Twisted Sister or do individual projects, this ain't the end by no means.

Any political ambitions?

Everybody tells me I should be the mayor of Long Island. The thought has passed through my mind once or twice, the idea of doing it just to f— people up. I’d get up there and say, “Listen, man, I don’t have the foggiest idea what I’m doing, but when I get in there I’m gonna find out what’s wrong with this place and I’m gonna let you know. If you elect me, I’m gonna find out what’s wrong.”

So you’d be a reform candidate?

Oh yeah, bigtime—“I ain’t gonna fool you, folks. I ain’t gonna promise to do anything amazing, I’m just gonna get in there and find out what’s happening.”

Now that you’ve had your vacation from Twisted Sister and the band is working again, how do you feel about the group’s career prospects?

I'm definitely fired-up about the band. If you look at the charts, or the radio airplay or whatever, you could say that the record’s not doing so well. But we haven’t been going for a big fanfare on this one. Fanfare can work against you—it’s like that movie that everyone tells you is sooo amazing and they hype it so much that it’s a letdown when you finally see it. That happened with our last album a bit. You can yell and scream and go wild, but people either like it or they don’t like it. If the word on the street is bad, there’s nothing you can do to make it happen. And if the word is good, there’s nothing you can do to kill it.

If Twisted wants to get some legitimacy and be thought of as a legitimate rock ’n’ roll band, we’re gonna have to get that street-level thing to happen. So I’m watching it now, and I’m seeing a record that wasn’t overshipped the way so many are, a record that’s selling steadily, and a record that’s building. That’s what we’re looking for now, a slow build. I don’t want to blast onto the charts and fall right off because it was overhyped, which I’ve seen happen so many times. I want to keep building slowly, because image and hype can only last you so long.