Washington City Paper: How are you?

Ricky Skaggs: I'm having my first cup. [The author assumes Mr. Skaggs is referring to a cup of coffee, but does not inquire further.] So I'm good.

Where are you?

In Nashville.

You're not the type of country musician who moves to L.A.?

No, no. I never had to repent for that. When I worked for Emmylou Harris in the 70s, I didn't move out there, but I lived out there a lot. There was times that I'd go out and spend two or three weeks a time in a hotel, working on her records...but I never moved out there. I've lived in Kentucky, in Northern Virginia—Manassas. I lived in Lexington for a pretty good piece. But I've lived in Hendersonville, Tenn., since August of 1980.

Is there something essential about geography in country music? Can you even make this music in L.A.?

You can. But being raised in downtown Brooklyn or in Manhattan, I think it would be hard to sing about the mountains. It would be hard for someone to sound like Doc Boggs coming out of Manhattan...but when you hear Gillian Welch [hometown: NYC] and Nickel Creek [hometown: San Diego]....they've gone back and they've learned these songs from the 40s and 50s.

So—does that mean that the circle is unbroken?

My family poured music into me. A good father is someone that sees potential in his kid—what his son likes and excels at. A good father massages that and builds it up. That's a good father. Now, I had a good father who was also a musician. He played guitar and sang. He poured it into me as a father and as another musician. He saw that I had the talent to go farther than just being a weekend player. He saw that I really could have a career and make it in the business. If he had not seen that and poured that into me, I may have quit years ago.

It's been a destiny of mine to do what I'm doing. My dad was a huge part of pouring that into me and spending time with me and not making me practice, but making me want to practice. I loved my dad and I loved to do things with him and we would play. I started playing fiddle when I was 13. It was a great way to grow up. And my mother too. One of these days I'll have to do a record for my mother.

Having been on a major label, what's it like to run your own?

I've run my own label for 13 years...What I love about having a label is the freedom to make music. Had I gone to Sony with an idea—Songs My Dad Loved—they would have laughed. "This won't sell." Had I gone to them with [1997's] Bluegrass Rules...I actually offered that to Atlantic. They listened, but they said, " It's nothing we can really work with." They said, "Take it yourself." I did offer that to them. It sold 200,000 copies. For a bluegrass record, that's huge.

Can country music outlast the genre mixing and mashing that "the kids" insist upon today? Or will it be absorbed into something else?

If [country] stays on the American Idol scene where its videos want to look like VH1 and the sound wants to be so far away from country and be more pop and be more absorbed by the pop listener where someone buys a John Mayer CD and a hip-hop CD and a Taylor Swift CD—there's hardly any differentiation anymore. It's like country music doesn't have a sound. When "Sweet Home Alabama" sounds country...[Skaggs, contemplating a world in which Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" sets the standard for country, seems to shudder.]

["Sweet Home Alabama"] sounds like everything that's coming out of Nashville. We've really gone in a different direction. But that's one of the things that sparked me to go back and discover that deep well of water that's still there. There's still a pure taste in this old music. There's things to discover. There's new music there...

I don't care if it's 2010. You can go there and be back in the '30s and '40s and thank God that we've got recordings from back then. Raccoon and I has this discussion here not long ago. [The author isn't sure whether "Raccoon" is Skaggs brother, bandmate, attorney, doctor, or dentist, and, though he could probably find out with a quick Google Search, prefers the presence of an unidentified man (or woman!) named "Raccoon" in this interview.] There's so much. Why would we wanna fight and fuss over this new music that's being played these days when we can go back and glean from all these great old players?

Legendary coal miner/banjo picker Doc Boggs re-emerged when you were a teenager. Did you ever see him?

No. I was born in '54. Doc was playing the Smithsonian...but gosh man—he was old. He was an old cat. There's a lot of his music that's hard to find. He was barely able to sing and play even then. Old guys that just came out of the mountains...thank goodness that those guys made a sound and added their thumbprint to the music. Is it perfect? No. Is it awesome and does it got a spirit to it that moves your heart? Yes.

We've tried to make perfect records for so long that we've overdubbed the heart and soul out of something. We want to have a clean slate when we put something out. That's what I love about Songs My Dad Loved. There's hickeys in it.

Ricky Skaggs plays tonight and tomorrow night at 7:30 p.m. at the Birchmere, 3701 Mt. Vernon Ave., Alexandria. (703) 549-7500. $35.

How did you earn the nickname Giant J?

I’m a large character. It started from years back. I don’t wanna promote fistfighting, but I’m a little guy that will probably kick a big guy's ass. I always wanna be as big as possible. Everything about me and what I’m doing is bigger than it should be.

"Giant J" has nothing to do with THC?
The joint part of it...no. But that would kick in at any moment because there is always a joint hanging out of my mouth.

I'm really confused about your ideology. You guys are from the Northwest, but then you were a band in Southern California, but now you live in Las Vegas. Meanwhile, you are funky, but you're also positive punks, but also Rastas—
When you get into Black Flag or the Circle Jerks or the Sex Pistols, they weren’t necessarily negative. Maybe during their time they didn’t have a Hot Topic making their style cool. They were perceived negatively, but when you get into what they were telling kids to do, they weren’t negative. “God Save the Queen” is negative, but it is an issue for that time.

[The author contemplates possible positive meanings of the Sex Pistols sarcastic anthem "God Save the Queen" and supposes that, in a way, that anthem could be interpreted positively had the Sex Pistols not represented (and lived) total nihilism).] So you’re saying there’s a positivity in the negativity of the message?
There’s a negativity to be found in that moment, but that negativity was spawned by...the government of their time…I don’t think they were trying to say that we need to live in a world that’s worse than the one we live in now. I think they had rightful complaints and were singing in hopes of changing that.

We have a song called "Fight the World" on our first album. People take it as a negative thing…if you don’t hear what I’m talking about, you can put negative overtones on it. But it’s not negative. I want [kids] to fight back. I'm not saying they should grab pitchforks and put in it in the chest of every guy with a suit. [I'm saying they should] be Thomas Jefferson.

But you are also Rastas—
We just happen to have dreadlocks. I am not a Rasta—I’m not an anything. My mother is a Buddhist, my dad is a Green Beret. I’m on both sides of the fence. I’m fully willing to take a deep breath and tackle problems like a logical man. If you’re a drunken asshole at a show, I will knock you the fuck out. I don’t have a religion. I don’t believe we have answers to “What are we here for?”

What about your geography?
I'm from the West Coast. I’m from Southern California...We love reggae, but we appreciate the white boy's West Coast. Jack Johnson, Sublime…that’s reggae, but if you take that shit to Jamaica, they ain’t having it.

Our ideology is tattooed on all of our arms. "Think free, live free." That’s a vague statement trying to do a interview about it. I know that’s a cliché, but it’s a cliché because it’s true.

So you're a positivist. A humanist.
We’ll take that.

But what about Vegas?
This band started as a joke to open up for another band. The joke became my fantasy lived out.

Southern Cali was my home, [but] I owned a 1,000-cap venue called the Old Shipwreck in Tacoma. [Giant J relates the FunkyJahPunkys epic genesis story: the head chef of the Old Shipwreck is "Mr. Black," the FJP's guitarist. After the band formed, it relocated to Southern California.] I got home and was looking for the scene I grew up in. The scene I was looking for wasn’t there anymore. We started playing where we could—playing Vegas once a month—and we found it here.

Some of the most hippie motherfuckers that I deal with are here in Vegas. There are drum circles in Red Rock. Vegas is a huge melting pot. It's a loving community that I dig a lot.

We don’t live on the Strip. We’re not down on the Strip hanging out looking for hookers...we live on an acre 8 miles from the strip. One of the houses is for the band, the other is for my wife, mother-in-law, and daughter. We all work together and live in one place and make it possible. Once a month, we host a PCP Family Barbecue to prove that Vegas isn’t the question you asked. [Author's note: "PCP" doesn't refer to the popular arylcyclohexylamine derivative, but to Pacific Coast Pirates, the FJP's Vegas-based record label.]

If I’m ever down on shit to write about, I just go to the strip on a Saturday night. I just go see the people that didn’t mean to spend their mortgage. When you put that much greed and sin all in one spot, you see some visible negativity. The best negativity is at the gas station at Stateline. That’s where you see the losers really losing. You see a poor guy with his wife and kids and see how bad every decision he made that weekend turned out.

I think I’ve been in that gas station a couple of times. [Author's note: this is, literally and figuratively, true.]
I haven’t had a drunk in nine years. I was a full-blown ulcered alcoholic at 22.

How’d you get out of it?
Hitting rock bottom. Seeing as bad as I could foreseeable be while knowing I had so much love and opportunity available to me.

I grew up in a Partyville, I knew the right people. I could do anything I wanted. My brother was older than me and involved in
selling everything. I partied hard. I love drinking to this very day. God, I wish I could have a drink...Alcohol owns me, bro. I drink a 12-pack of nonalcoholic beers at every show.

That's hardcore.
We tell every venue to have it. I’d love to have a real beer, but I’d have 12 shots of tequila afterward.

How did you guys get involved with Ice-T for the song "Corporate Takeover?"
One of the bands on PCP—a band called Colombyne—has a 400-pound rapper Pauly Mac used to be with 187. He lives in Vegas…he's a nephew of Ice-t. Ice put him through college. That was the personal connection that made this possible. Ice-T gave me a small chance for people to notice…if not for Ice,
you wouldn’t be talking to me from Washington, D.C.

[Author's note: Giant J is right. The author—a huge fan of Body Count, O.G. Original Gangster, the film New Jack City, and the survivor of a mosh-related injury incurred at a Body Count show at the Trocadero Club in Philadelphia in December 1993—received a press release from PCP Records in re: Ice-T's appearance on the FJP song "Corporate Takeover," contacted Giant J in the hope of interviewing Ice-T, and only requested to interview Giant J after finding his lifestyle, ideology, and general modus operandi, if not his aesthetics, diverting. In this small way, Giant J is a postmodern American hero: He, an artist who desires attention, has found a found a way to get it, and received it.]

Photographs of the author by Darrow Montgomery

Washington City Paper: Where are you? [The author often begins interviews with this ubiquitous question. He is aware the question is not interesting, but must make small talk with his subjects in order to put them and himself at ease. Unfortunately, the sheer stupidity of the question "Where are you?" often makes him and his subjects ill at ease.]

David Cross: I just got to Austin.

How's Austin?

It's 90 degrees. I'm wearing a baseball cap.

One must wear a hat to cover one's dome.

I’ve come to appreciate how perfect the baseball cap is. For a guy like me, it provides shade. But if it's too hot, I can take it off. But when it’s chilly, it keeps me warm.

What is the purpose of stand-up comedy?

Are you serious?

Yes.

Your question is not simply answered. Are you talking about Richard Pryor, or Larry the Cable Guy?…There’s all kinds and forms of stand-up comedy and its base function is to make people laugh. Beyond that, you can project on to it what you want.

What is it for you?

Selfishly, or not-altruistically...[Cross thinks.]...for me...[Cross thinks some more.]...I enjoy doing it. It’s a great way to communicate in a very specific way. It’s a monologue for an hour. It’s fun for me. And now I have a career at it and make money doing it and, looking at it in a more-or-less-specific-to-me way, it provides an hour of hopefully thoughtful, amusing, entertainment that will be remembered long after it happened and be more valuable than the time spent creating it.

Why return to the road?

I love it. There’s a small part that is cashing in on 15 years of shitty gigs and driving three hours to get $75 for stage time in rural Vermont where you just have drunk hecklers and doing that for a long, long, long time. Now, it’s very enjoyable for me to get back on the road. I haven’t been out in five years, [though] I've been doing standup the entire time. But this is the first time for a full show in five years. It's really...the first time I’m really over my uncomfortableness with meeting fans and it’s just been a pleasure. Beyond how grueling it is—

[Celebrity Q & A's are often conducted on conference calls arranged by those celebrities' publicists. These conference calls allow those publicists to monitor their celebrities' interviews and prevent journalists from getting their celebrities' cell phone numbers. This Q&A with David Cross is no exception. However, at this point during the interview, the conference call connection is lost. The author tries to call back Cross' publicist but cannot get through. The author checks his email, waiting for Cross' publicist to call him and get Cross back on the line, which she eventually does.]

I was in the middle of the most brilliant soliloquy.

It's lost to history. But perhaps this technical glitch has served as an ice-breaker. Perhaps it's taken the edge off.

I just did that thing where you talk for a full minute, and you stop, and you realize that you're just talking into a blank space.

You were talking about your current awesome tour as revenge for your early, bad tours.

No—not revenge...[Cross thinks.]...I’m always going to do stand-up, but I’m in a different phase of enjoying it more than I ever have because—and this goes back to what I was saying about becoming more comfortable about meeting my fans—I used to hide and run away. But because I’m doing this book-signing thing...[Cross thinks.]…people know who I am. They know my point of view. Fans are coming to see me for a specific reason as opposed to six or 10 years ago where it was like, "Oh, that's the guy from that show." They know it and accept it and are eager for it. It’s very—

[The conference call connection is lost again. The author browses analog synthesizer sales on eBay, waiting for Cross' publicist to call him and get Cross back on the line, which she eventually does.]

It happened again.

It's been a confusing day for me. [The author thinks.] Tonight, I'm playing a poker game hosted by a guy named "David Cross." So, all day, I've getting emails about David Cross, but some are about this interview with you, and some are about the list for this poker game.

That’s illegal.

The poker game?

Yes. How do you feel about that?

How do I feel about it?
Yes.

I'm less worried about the fact that it's illegal than about the fact it might get robbed. You know, "knocked over." Is that the right word?

Knocked up. The game might become impregnated with scandal.

We were talking about crowds. Do you feel you're act loses something when you perform before devoted fans and don't perform before random assholes?

It’s still in my nature to antagonize. I did a benefit for a Catholic organization...[Cross thinks.]...that had something to do with…[Cross thinks.]...it was really worthwhile event, a big show at the El Rey in L.A. I did this thing I’ve been doing about rape and the American-Indian genocide. They nearly booed me off the stage. I will always have moments of those even if I just manufacture them on my own. I still play plenty of gigs where people aren’t specifically there to see me. I would say the group…I’m gonna check, are you still there? [The author confirms that the connection is held, and he is there.] The generalized group of all the different types of groups out there that have the worst sense of humor...are liberals and progressives, and I end up doing a bunch of benefits and charities and they are without a doubt the most humorless. They can’t find the humor…as soon as you say the word "Jew" or "retarded," they don’t hear the context, they shut down. I’ll always have the ability—outside of this audience on this tour—to offend.

Do you think that you're at the top of your game on this tour? Or are you sick of it?

Perhaps both. I'm coming to the end of it. I'm ready for it to be over. I miss being home, I miss my girlfriend, I miss my dog, I miss New York. I don’t like living out of a suitcase and living in a different city every night and going to the airport. But that’s part of the deal. But also the material…I’ve always had a hard time saying the same thing over and over and making it sound fresh and new. It’s antithetical to what I do and how I communicate. There’s this underlying feeling of falseness to pausing at the same place every time. That’s good comedy timing. But if you’re literally doing for the 35th time in 32 days—if you’re doing the show—it loses spontaneity.…It does get stale, but I do things to make it not.

That's a lonely image. That falseness.

It’s only false to me. That’s what I have to remember. Everyone is seeing it for the first time. Everyone deserves the same show. In some ways the last five shows were better than the first five shows. They’re different and you get different stuff but it’s definitely tighter. You just have to remember that everyone is here to see you. They paid money. They took time out of their evening. They got a babysitter.…[That falseness is] a lame, pussy thing to feel. Once I get onstage, I can’t do that.

[The interview concluded, David Cross, comedian, asks the author to tell David Cross, poker game host, that he said hello. When, later that night, the author tells David Cross, poker game host, that David Cross, comedian, said hello, he says, "Oh" and, even later that night, catches a runner-runner full house to beat the author's flopped straight.]

David Cross performs Wednesday, Oct. 21, at 8 p.m. at the Warner Theatre. $35.

Photographs of Justin Moyer by Darrow Montgomery

[Bai Ling, on a crackling cell phone line, is barely audible. The author hears a roaring freeway which he suspects is in California, but can't be sure.]

Bai Ling: I’m on the freeway driving from my interview. [Ling's use of the word "freeway," West Coast parlance for "highway," supports, but does not confirm, the author's suspicion that the roaring freeway she is on is in California.]

Are you excited about the film?
I enjoy making independent films. People making independent films make films from their heart. That is what's important in people’s lives. In the film, my character believes in her dream and is doing everything to find her dream. [Further research by the author confirms that Esther, Bai Ling's character in A Beautiful Life, is a stripper who dreams of becoming a singer.]

Is this relevant to your own experience?
Right now, it's better for me than it is in [Esther's] life...I don’t know what her future is, but I think she’ll find her dream. The goal in life is for you to have a journey where you are walking to your goal. The journey is more important than the goal in the end. Even though she’s really struggling in her life, she has the joy and innocence in her life while she’s living her life day to day. Life is not living lightly—it's going through hardships. It's living life everyday as if you are already in a dream.


Do you miss China?
Yesterday, I was so excited because it was Chinese Independence Day [The author notes that this interview was conducted on Oct. 1]. Whatever the gift I have is because of my country—that old culture, that old language…I grew up learning instruments. When I grew up, there’s no TV. You grow up with nature. With the pure soul. Poetry, nature, and music. That’s what I’ve been dealing with. Wildness.

Do you prefer capitalism or communism?
Both have their own benefits, and beauty, and freedom. American culture is totally free...but, in communism, you share things. People are building for each other...that is a wise, gentle experience in the universe. They each have their good side. I think right now—every country is changing towards America and freedom. In China—if you don’t talk about politics—it’s like you are in the U.S. People are restricted under communism but are now very free. There is a freedom of energy and spirit.

Do you remember Nixon's visit to China? Do you remember the Cultural Revolution?
I was in Oliver Stone's movie Nixon. I was the Chinese interpreter, but I didn’t speak English. When I was 14, I was in Tibet in the People’s Liberation Army. That is my experience—I was a soldier in the army in Tibet. It was complicated and painful and cruel and very beautiful. China is a really complicated place. All this old culture and history of Buddhism and restrictive communist controlling...[I was] constantly bumping into walls and writing apology letters because I was a free spirit. I am free like a wild cheetah.

What was an average day like in the army?
I was the youngest one. First, I get into the army. The hat and the clothing were way too big. I get to Tibet. They give me a book about rules between male and female soldier. I can’t be the same room alone with with a male soldier. [Bai Ling offers memories in re: the mystery of sex in occupied Tibet, where she was too young to understand what boys and girls did behind closed doors.] I always wondered—what are they doing inside? I looked through the [keyhole] in the wooden door...I expect to see pieces of clothing flying. It was so forbidden and so interesting and so dangerous.

Did you eventually end up in the room?
Of course. In my [teenage] diary…all I’m talking about is boy soliders and girl soldiers…we are not allowed to fall in love.

Did you ever shoot a gun?
I never [did]. I learned about horses and shooting guns and as a nurse I saved people’s lives giving blood and all that. I was quite brave. In the night shift, I was the nurse.
It’s really strange that you went through all that, and then you were on Entourage.
Do you believe it? It’s a miracle journey. I feel that I’m nature’s cool….i’m air fire winds or water. I am an excellent tool to use as an artist and a actress. A Beautiful Life was written for Denise Richards, but there is a reason for me to be in Hollywood and give a gift. My quality and talent are much bigger than those roles I got offered. Look at my journey. I have that.

Washington City Paper: Where are you right now?
Daniel Biro: Albany.

How's Albany?
Albany's scary.

Because of all the straight-edge hardcore bands?
Because the ghetto neighborhoods I was running through. There were some smashed windows. There were some people eyeing me down.

I did see a Washington Park, though. "Washington"—it’s not a very overrated name. [This is a double negative. DB means "Washington is a great name."]

Right, because of the greatness of America's first president. Who's your favorite president?
Obama.

What about before Obama?
Lincoln?

I forgot—you are Canadian. [The author wonders whether his use of "America" to refer to "The United States" has offended DB.] You don’t even care about U.S. presidents.
I do care. Lincoln did a lot, so that’s what I’ll say.

How do you stay sane on the road?
Funny you should ask—we don’t. We brought our own coffee kit and make French press coffee. I try to jog daily.

Are you on a bus with a driver?

We’re sharing bunks with tour crew. It's a different dynamic—there's more team spirit. When we’re on the bus alone we get sick of each other...

Do you guys have a lot of DVDs? Do you watch Pretty in Pink every day at 2 p.m.?
No, we watch whatever's on satellte. Jason [Dunn, Hawk Nelson's frontman] brings his PS2...I’d bring out The Royal Tenebaums, or The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.

Do you guys identify as Christian?
"Christian" is a faux pas word—everyone’s down with Jesus, no one’s down with "Christians." Sometimes labels or names get tainted when people pracice hypocrisy—"Christian" is not the ideal word to use. We all try to follow Jesus. We try to communicate love—that God has forgiveness for everyone. You try to do all the things the Bible communicates and stands for.

Not all of your songs address faith. When do you decide to slip in a message?
Every band is a little different. [Some] feel like it’s their duty to preach or share the Word of God or all that in all their songs. If that’s the way they feel, whatever—[they should] make their songs. With us, Christianity in our music just gets interjected because that’s our worldview. It can’t help but find it’s way into our music, [but] we’re not like, "We’ve gotta get people saved tonight." We try to write songs that are real from our fans' perspective. Sometimes we write in the third person. At the same time, usually a year before we record [an album], I always pray and ask God to lead in the direction that he wants. [On Live Life Loud] we covered an old hymn from the 1800s. I never thought we’d be doing that. "Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus"—you can’t be more blatant than that.

Do you go to church on the road?
We don’t get to go. It's a bummer. We live in Nashville now. I found this really cool church that I get to go to now, it’s awesome. It's technically affilitiated with Calvary Temple out West. I think it's considered Pentecostal, or nondenominational. It's called the Grace Community Church in Franklin, Tenn. But, on the road, we don’t. Some Christians bands have backstage worship on Sundays. That’s not what we do. When
I go running, I like to listen to a worship record now and then. When I’m in nature, and see everything that God has made, that opens my eyes. I try to express that in [prayer]…you know, in your head voice?

Of course. [The author does know!] What denomination were you raised as?
I was raised in a Baptist chuch...Jason went to a nondemoninational, kind of charismatic church. Johnathan [Steingard, Hawk Nelson's drummer]’s dad was a pastor in big chuch in Toronto.

Is there a Baptist influence in your music?
No. I’m not really like that. I think it’s cool that I got to learn classic hymns. We were in a Baptist church with a band. It was my youth pastor who was like: "You love music, do you wanna join our worship team?" He gave me a guitar. That’s how it started for me. If my music is affiliated with Baptists, I’m proud.

What if it's affiliated with Green Day?
I grew up on the Warped Tour and Green Day. Those bands have more influence on our music stylistically than church music. [DB and the author engage in a tangential conversation in re: Baptist recording artists, i.e. Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin. "The Baptist Church is where rock was invented," the author insists.]

Who's your favorite, uh...you know, those guys that wrote the Gospels? Not prophets...not acolytes. What are those guys called? Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John? Who's your favorite one?
I’ve never thought about a favorite. Can I say Paul?

Well, he's not one of the original four. If Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are like the Beatles, Paul is like George Martin.
Or the original drummer. [The author laughs.] I love Paul because he didn’t have it all together all the time. He denied
Christ three times and that shows us the humanity we all possess. But Jesus didn’t give up on him. I like Paul because he’s crazy a little bit. [DB has mistaken St. Paul, formerly the tax collector Saul of Tarsus, for St. Peter, who denied Christ thrice. However, the author feels is not unfamiliar with the Word, but has merely misspoken. He is, after all, in a Christian rock band.]

Do you dislike questions about your religion? Would you rather talk about the Stooges?
Sometimes I think it's a "you’re-walking-on-thin-ice" topic. I embrace who I am and who we are as a band. Not everybody’s gonna be into that. If you are, cool. [The author and DB discuss whether or not Hawk Nelson has an upcoming D.C. date. Neither is sure. DB reviews Hawk Nelson's tour schedule, while the author reviews the same schedule on the Internet.]

Where’s "WOR-CHEST-ER" in Massachusetts?
I think it's pronounced "WUH-STUH."

Did you want a copy of our record?
I've got one in my office. [The author regrets to report that he has told DB a lie, as he does not have a copy of Hawk Nelson's record, and does not have an office. However, he has not told this lie because he dislikes Hawk Nelson, its ideology, or its music. He tells this lie because he doesn't like promotional CDs, which take up precious landfill space, and, like Prince, rarely listens to any other music besides his own.] Yeah, man...I've got one here, like, buried under this pile of promotional CDs in my office.

Hawk Nelson's new album, Live Life Loud, is out now.

Photographs by Darrow Montgomery

Sarah D. Barthel: No.

CP: Oh. [Sound of your correspondent's intracranial gears grinding, as he has prepared numerous questions about Pulitzer Prize-winning writer William Kennedy, author of the Albany Trilogy, which SDB will not answer.] Uh...is upstate New York as bleak and gray as everyone says?

SDB: I would say no. It’s a beautiful place. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve seen in the U.S. The people are humble, sweet, real, and the scenery is absolutely phenomenal. The little towns are beautiful as well. There’s something magical about it.

CP: Are you guys from there?

SDB: Josh and I grew up in small town called Greenwich…a smaller town outside of Saratoga Springs. A town of 1500 or something ridiculous like that.

CP: What kind of person are you?

SDB: I consider myself an ordinary person… I'm not an introvert or an extrovert. I enjoy peace and quiet as much as most people.

CP: What's a typical day like for you?

SDB: When we’re not on tour…we normally get up before 11. Sometimes that doesn't happen because we work late in the studio. We normally drive to Easton where our studio is—our think tank, which is even farther out in the country than Greenwich. We go out there and think and write and play music and surround ourselves with music. [But] that’s not everyday. I wait tables to make rent.

CP: Where?

SDB: I wait tables at Caroline's Bistro in Saratoga Springs. It’s been there for awhile, supporting local farms and foods. It’s a jazz bistro. There's usually good music coming in.

CP: Do you think that waiting tables—that is, "waiting tables" as a stand-in for any day job a musician might have— is a necessary part of making art? Or, if the opportunity arose, would you abandon table-waiting?

SDB: In a heartbeat, I would stop waiting tables. I’ve been doing it for long enough. I’m noticing that I don’t like dealing with people’s shit. I do believe that everybody should wait tables in your life. I’ve learned a lot. The clientele that come in sometimes are very demanding, especially during racetrack season. I’ve had enough of it.

CP: What’s the racetrack crowd like? [Your correspondent imagines a sunny May day at the Kentucky Derby. Maybe he would wear a custom-tailored suit and order a mint julep. Or, standing in a hot crowd amidst sweet-smelling cigar smoke, maybe he would place a $2 bet on the 6 horse to show...]

SDB: [Saratoga has] the oldest racetrack in the country. Most of the people that I can’t stand are the extremely wealthy Long Island or New Jersey kids that are practically the same age as you.

CP: [Your correspondent wonders how old SDB thinks he is. 20?] The same age as me? But I'm 32...

SDB: Well, I’m 26. They’re in their 20s. Not all of them are like this, of course....but they feel like they own the place because they’re drunk or have a lot of money.

CP: Is it difficult to tour – to lead a glamorous rock life – then return to Saratoga and wait tables?

SDB: I don't have a problem with it. It's super-exciting to go travel and experience those things and come back.

CP: No "back to the grind" feeling?

SDB: We’ve gotten used to it.

CP: When did you guys form?

SDB: We’ve worked together for two-and-a-half years.

CP: Do you guys go out? Like, are you boyfriend/girlfriend?

SDB: No.

CP: Is that annoying? To be asked that?

SDB: A lot of people ask. We don’t think it’s that important. We’re a team and we work together and we write music together and that’s it. That’s what people should see.

CP: Are the Beatles relevant?

SDB: They're a huge influence to us...[but] I don’t see the point in buying a remastered version of the White Album for the 15th time. We are highly influenced by the Beatles for sure. Josh grew up listening to them. His father always has the Beatles on. 24-7. He compares everyone to the Beatles.

CP: What's the point of records? What's the point of a physical document of music?

SDB: I feel it’s like the whole package that’s included with buying a record … buying vinyl, buying a cassette tape. You have to see our cover art—it’s the shit. To have that package with you, something tangible…it gives it more of an experience. Open it up, put it in the CD player, press play...It's different than ITunes, playing something for 30 seconds and being like "That’s boring."

CP: Do you feel like the music industry highway is crumbling just as you are finding the on-ramp? Crumbling like that highway in Matrix 2?

SDB: If it was 10 or 15 years ago, we wouldn’t have gotten recognized [without] MySpace or the internet. We wouldn’t be here now if it was that time. But it's worrisome to think about the music business and making money off of our art. The best thing to do is not think about it and see what happens. We’re doing what we love to do. If we’re not going to make as much money, that’s okay.

CP: So you think of yourself as a MySpace phenomenon? You didn't get discovered in a club by the racetrack?

SDB: We were noticed on MySpace. People on MySpace spread the word and got our name out a lot faster and cheaper than what we would have to do 15 years ago...our friends here are part of Sub-Bombin Records. They always put on shows and do a lot of promotion and put out compilations of local music and asked us to be a part of it and we said "Sure, yeah," but we only had two songs and but we scrambled up enough ideas and played our first show. From there we just kept playing and writing and getting music out there and connecting with as many people as we could. [Your correspondent, still disappointed that SDB has not read William Kennedy, has run out of questions. He thanks SBD and makes Phantogram-related small talk.] Are you coming to the show?

CP: When is the show? Sunday? I don't know. Sure. I might come to the show. [Your correspondent is not just being polite. He may actually attend this show!] Don't you hate it when you play a show and everyone is like, "Put me on the list?"

SDB: You mean like...forget the list, why not just totally support me?

CP: Yeah, that’s what I mean.

Phantogram plays the Rock and Roll Hotel on Sunday, September 27.

Photographs of Moyer by Darrow Montgomery