QUESTIONS & JAANSWERS

Ever since my nosy coworkers at CREEM grilled me over an open spit for Issue 5, you readers have been busy coming up with your own probing little interrogations. I don’t know what’s wrong with you people, but why does everyone always want to know who my least favorite person to interview was? (Okay, okay, it was Britt Daniels from Spoon. Monosyllabic and a withholder.) I mean, do I come across like I hate musicians? I do not. Do I abuse them? Well...maybe a little.

So here you go. You got questions, I got Jaanswers.

Which interview were you the most nervous about? Did it turn out to be as bad as you thought it would?

I was really scared to interview Lou Reed. He had a reputation for being awful to writers. I'd stayed up all night researching and writing and rewriting questions. I remember calling Jonathan Richman, who knew Reed from when he was a teenager, and I asked him what I should do to make him not be mean to me. He said, “Call him Mr. Reed.” While I thought that was corny, I actually tried it, and it worked! It turned out to be one of the most revelatory interviews of my life.

Any other meanies on your resume?

I’ve been asked, “Is James Hetfield nice?” “Is Eddie Vedder?” “What about Kacey Musgraves?” Two of them are nice. I refuse to burst your rock ’n’ roll bubble about which one isn’t. And just to keep you a little off balance—despite his reputation for being surly, John Lydon is really very charming.

Who are some of your favorite dressers you’ve interviewed?

Too many to name, but I will say this: Over a lifetime of reporting on artists, what I learned is that there are two kinds of stars—those who can wear scarves, and those who can’t. All my favorites can.

Who was unexpectedly shy?

Harry Styles.

Who was the biggest flirt?

Tre Cool.

Who had the best house?

Rod Stewart’s Italianate mansion, with its eight bedrooms, 13 bathrooms, screening room, Olympic-size swimming pool, treehouse, soccer pitch, and tennis court. It was like a posh hotel, like the five-star ones he’d stayed in for half his life There were expensive French paintings, little occasional tables covered in silver-gilt frames with picture of his family, his father— and Elton John, despite the two friends famously having fallen out. But more, I liked going to any musician’s house that felt more lived-in. You get more of a sense of who they are. I’ll always remember Loretta Lynn had a huge red BarcaLounger in her living room that was shabby and worn, right next to her more genteel furniture.

Who was the greatest gentleman?

Bill Callahan.

Who surprised you the most?

I was shocked by how nervous Jeff Beck got during an interview when a bat flew into his sitting room. He got so flustered we had to call it a day.

Did you ever feel unsafe?

Frank Zappa didn’t like something I wrote and called me on the phone to tell me he would be waiting for me outside my office with a gun if I didn’t write a retraction. I didn’t. Somehow I survived.

Funniest situation you found yourself in?

Les Claypool was a mechanic before Primus made it. I went to his house in a really remote area in Northern California, and he showed me his tractor (not a euphemism) and then his little Sunbeam two-seater that he had just fixed. He was proud of his accomplishment and asked me if I wanted to take a ride through the redwood forest near his farm. While I really didn’t, I said yes. I am never a good passenger. About two miles into the drive his car conked out and there was no cell service. This apparently wasn’t the first time this had happened, since after we’d been there for a while, his resourceful wife, Chaney, came out looking for us in the family car. It was quite an icebreaker.

What was an unexpected quirk one of your subjects had?

Lucinda Williams is a total clean freak. I went to her house and after being there a while she brought out snacks—trail mix—and watched me like a hawk. When I dropped a couple of raisins, she scooped them up immediately. Later, she disappeared for 40 minutes, leaving me to sit in her kitchen. She finally returned and I asked her what happened: “I spilled my pink eyeshadow and had to make sure I got it all.” After the raisin incident I knew she wasn’t lying.

Who’s been the hardest musician to interview? How do you interview a rock star and win? Or at least get them to answer...

I swear I’ll do anything that works. My hardest interviews are always with Neil Young. I think he knows all the little devices reporters use since his father, Scott Young, was a sports journalist and taught him all the tricks on how to confound interviewers. What I learned is that Neil is more inclined to answer a question if you ask him about his lyrics—he writes very literally with little metaphor to obscure meaning. So if I do that, I get better stories. Also, sometimes I will ask something that I know to be false, because then I know he’ll correct me and I’ll get the actual answer. He hates to be misunderstood. It’s like playing chess when you interview Neil Young. You just hang on and don’t cower. He can smell weakness.

Has an interview ever led to a fling? And if not, which were the ones you wish had?

I sold candles door-to-door when I was 12 to make enough money to go to Liverpool. Once there, I had an elaborate plan to do away with Jane Asher so that Paul McCartney would marry me.

You have a reputation for almost overpreparing when you go in to interview someone. Was there ever a time when you had to show up for something last-minute and went in blind?

I had the date wrong for an interview with Leslie Feist. I thought I was going to meet her at a studio in East L.A. to listen to her new record. Nope. When I got to the studio I realized that the manager expected me there for the interview and to spend two hours talking to her about the new record, which I hadn’t heard. You just have to punt at times like this. There are no redos. We talked about life, love, lack of love, and spontaneity. My interviews tend to not be just about the music anyway, it’s about the person behind the music—what about them allows them to create certain works in certain situations. Anyway, it turned out really well, and until now I’ve never admitted that I didn’t even hear the record.

Maybe I should always do the interviews without preparation.

Nah.

Got a question for Jaan? Email editor@creem.com.