Vale Andrew McMillan, Darwin-based journalist and author: 1957-2012

Darwin-based journalist and author Andrew McMillan [pictured below] died yesterday, January 28 2012, aged 54. I received word via a text message from Andrew Stafford just after I went to bed, around midnight. I wrote back, “Holy shit. Thanks.” Then I lay awake for the next hour, cursing myself. I was to meet him in Darwin, six days later.

I first became aware of the eerie reality that I was following in the footsteps of my near-namesake soon after my work was nationally published. Looking at my email history, the first mention of his name is in a note from Australian writer Clinton Walker on August 12, 2009.

andrew,
this is so funny because only lately been in touch w my old friend from bris old rock writer andrew mcmillan, you must be aware of your precedence, and a fine one it is too [...] i had a look ata bit of your stuff and really enjoyed it and wanted to say goodonya and keepitup. clinton walker

In February 2010, I was emailed by the international label manager/A&R at Shock Records, David Laing.

hey Andrew,
I assume you’re the same AM who used to write for RAM? If yes, first of all, thanks for all the great writing that was hugely influential on me in my teenage years fromthe 100th issue of RAM (my first) onwards… also, I’m responsible for a few releases that you may have an interest in if you care at all for the styles of music you used to write about – including a couple of compilations called Do The Pop! that trace the incluence of the Saints and primarily Radio Birdman into the local real rock’n'roll scene in ’80s, and also some reissued from the Hitmen – and I’d love to send you copies if you’re interested in seeing them…
Thanks and regards
dave

Then in May 2010, in an email conversation with Brisbane writer Andrew Stafford:

By the way, are you aware of yet another rock-writing Andrew, your namesake in fact, Andrew McMillan? Slightly different spelling – but Andrew, along with Clint Walker, was one of the original rock journos in this town, and arguably the most original. Started Suicide Alley (later Pulp) fanzine with Clint – the first rock fanzine in the country – and later wrote Strict Rules, his fantastic account of Midnight Oil’s tour through Aboriginal communities in 1986, leading to the Diesel and Dust album. A fascinating man and a great writer, well worth your checking out. – AS

Then in November 2010, in an email conversation with Australian singer Carol Lloyd of the band Railroad Gin:

It may freak you out to know that in the 70’s, Railroad Gin were often reported on by a guy who wrote for Rolling Stone, Juke etc. who was called Andrew McMillan….! He’s now a novelist based in Darwin..saw him when I did a panel thing with Noel Mengel at last year’s Brisbane Writers Festival.

I wrote back, “By the way, I am aware of Andrew McMillan! We’ve not met yet, but I’m sure it’ll happen eventually.”

The sad reality is that this will never happen, now.

In recent months – having reached a point in my writing career where I felt up to the challenge – I became more interested in exploring the concept of meeting this man, this well-known writer with whom I share more than a few parallels. I knew that he was ill, first with bowel cancer, and now with liver cancer. On November 25, 2011, I emailed him for the first time:

Hi Andrew,

I don’t believe we’ve ever emailed, but I’ve certainly been aware of you for a few years now as we have almost exactly the same name. I’ve been mistaken for you many times! More on me at the web address in my signature..

How are you? Last I heard was that you were in a poor state following the removal of a bowel tumor – I think this is the last thing I read about you, just over a year ago. Judging by your Facebook page, seems you’re doing much better now. I caught your recent interview on the MusicNT website, too. Good stuff.

I wanted to ask a favour. I’d like to visit you at your home in the new year, and interview you extensively. I think it’d be an interesting idea for a young journalist like myself to talk about writing and life with an older bloke who almost shares the same name with me.

Is this a possibility? Is this something you’d be interested in? Or should I bugger off?

Happy to chat anytime mate. My number below.

He replied the next day:

Hi Andrew,

Tickled to hear from you. The first I heard of you was via a flurry of emails from fans who read a piece in the The Australian and wondered what the fuck had happened to my style. I was bewildered. Then in 2009 when I was due to appear at the Brisbane Writers’ Festival I found myself on the bill of a Queensland music festival with old mate Christie Eliezer etc talking about music journalism. A strange call, given I’d rarely concentrated on music writing since about 1985. I accepted the invitation but got no response. Obviously they had the ‘en’ in mind.

I get emails occasionally congratulating me on reviews of records I’ve never heard. And calls from people seeking contact details for band managers I’m supposed to be best mates with. I plead ignorance; they, no doubt, hold my ignorance against you.

That said, I’m intrigued by the concept of a music journo called Andrew McMillen coming out of Brisbane. I was first published in 1975 and got out of there in 1977. Never looked back.

I’m now dealing with liver cancer and all kinds of shit, so my time appears to be short, hence forming a band The Rattling Mudguards and having much fun on the way out.

I trust your transcriptions are accurate so I’d be happy to entertain you in Darwin in January.

Cheers,

Andrew McMillan.

* Patron, Life Member: Northern Territory Writers’ Centre
* Acting Chief Of Staff (1991-2011): DARWIN’S 4^TH ESTATE
www.myspace.com/darwins4thestate
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ryZ36Ts0Gg&feature=email
* President For Life: Darwin Foreign Correspondents’ Association
* Founder: John Jenkins Society (est. Hotel Darwin, 1989)
www.andrewmcmillan.com.au

The Christmas period passed. I finished reading Andrew Stafford’s copy of Strict Rules: The Blackfella-Whitefella Tour, Andrew’s account of the 1986 tour of remote Aboriginal communities shared by the Australian rock groups Midnight Oil and Warumpi Band.

(To further confuse matters, a handwritten note on the book’s first page reads, “To Andrew – welcome to Strict Rules. Best wishes, Andrew McMillan.” It’s for Stafford, not me, but plenty of people thought otherwise when I showed them.)

It’s an excellent read; profound, beautiful, and heartbreaking, by turns. You can read an excerpt on Midnight Oil’s website. Drummer Rob Hirst wrote the foreword for a re-released version of the book in 2008; it was first published in 1988, the year I was born.

McMillan captures the feel of the Australian desert better than any writer I’ve read. For the first half of the book, he refers to himself in the third person, as “the hitch-hiker”. (The book is dedicated to Andrew’s mother, father, and “the people who pick up hitch-hikers.”) It’s a cracking read, and the pace never wavers as he explores the logistics behind the tour, the nightly performances to mostly-bewildered locals, the history of the land, and the people who live there. After I finished, all I could think was: I wish I read this sooner.

On January 2, I emailed Andrew to arrange my Darwin visit.

Hi Andrew – happy new year. How are you?

I want to check with you re timing for my planned excursion to Darwin. Are there any particular days or weeks that we should avoid? My January is filling up pretty fast so it might be best to look at early-mid Feb. What do you think?

He replied the same day:

At this stage my diary is free for 2012, apart from putting the finishing touches to an anthology (selected works 1976-2011) and the live album my new band The Rattling Mudguards recorded in October with Don Walker on piano and the Loose Screws on backing vocals.

Apart from that, everything else is dictated by my health. I’m fairly confident, despite the prognosis, that I’ll still be around in February and look forward to meeting you then.

I asked him whether I could stay at his home, and about the exact nature of his prognosis. On January 3, he told me:

You’re welcome to camp here unless I’m in need of a full-time carer by then. Hopefully that won’t be the case.

The prognosis? They got it wrong last year when they said I wouldn’t make through the footy season. The latest, a month ago, gave me three months max. I aim to beat that. I’ve got a few things to finish off yet.

On January 16, after getting caught up in the day-to-day minutiae of freelance journalism for a couple of weeks, I emailed Andrew after working out my ideal travel dates.

Hey Andrew,

How are you? A quick note to let you know that I’m intending to fly to Darwin on Thursday February 2. Not sure how long I intend to stay yet; up to a week is my best estimate at the moment. I just wanted to check that this date is OK before booking flights.

The next day, Andrew said:

Feb 2 sounds good. If we run into problems, friends within the neighbourhood and without have offered to put you up for a few nights.

I’ve attached an old RAM story from 1981 I’ve dug up for my anthology. I transcribed it a few nights ago. Would you mind proof-reading it for words that are obviously out of place? I figure it’ll be a neat exercise for you, giving you a clean sense of how I was writing 30 years ago and how we move on.

I was honoured to proof-read his old work, about an Australian band named Matt Finish. The same day, January 17, I replied:

Flights are booked for Friday Feb 3, returning Wed Feb 8. Arriving around midday on the Friday. I’m seeing (and reviewing) Roger Waters do The Wall on Feb 1 and didn’t fancy the early flight on the 2nd. So 3rd it is.

A good read on Matt Finish. Had never heard of them. I’ve attached a doc with a couple of comments down the right side, but no changes to the main text. Just a few small things that I noticed.

I was chatting to Jim White of Dirty Three today for a story I’m writing. He asked whether I was you. He remembers your writing from RAM.

Do keep sending through some stuff to read ahead of my visit. I finished Strict Rules a couple weeks back (borrowed Andrew Stafford’s copy) and loved it.

That was the last I heard from Andrew. On January 24, I followed up my last email and asked, “Is everything OK – or as OK can be, given your situation?” Four days later, he died.

I feel foolish for having not ventured north earlier, for not having appreciated the urgency of his situation. Upon receiving that text message last night, I felt immediately that this mistake will be one of my biggest regrets.

I have no idea how our meeting would have unfolded. I was looking for inspiration, for insight; I wanted to learn about writing from a man who has written his whole life. It saddens me that we only ever exchanged a few casual emails. I was looking forward to days of conversation, of introspection, of self-analysis, of advice, of inspiration.

Vale Andrew McMillan. I hardly knew you. I wish I did.

Written by Brisbane-based journalist Andrew McMillen, January 29 2012.

Above photo credits, respectively: Bob Gosford, Glenn Campbell, Bob Gosford.

Update, January 30: ABC News NT have uploaded a fine video tribute to Andrew on their YouTube channel. It runs for two and a half minutes and can be viewed below.

A Conversation With Reggie Watts, American musician and comedian

I spoke with musician/comedian Reggie Watts the week before his Brisbane Powerhouse show on May 23. For FourThousand, where a condensed version of this interview appeared, I wrote that “you should expect elements of beatboxing, poetry, live vocal looping and physical theatre among a highly improvised show that’s won Watts fans across the world.”

In my review for Rave Magazine, I wrote that “Watts’ absurd humour is most potent when operating on a seeming stream-of-consciousness: his finely-tuned comedic mind happily deadpans rapidly-fired high-brow concepts and phrases, much to our amusement.”

To get an idea of what Watts is all about, watch this video. Note that our conversation is directly transcribed, with little editing. Let me know how that works out. It’s also my first attempt at aping Wooooo Magazine‘s interview style.

R: Check 1-2! Hi!
A: Hello!
R: Hey, whasuuuup?
A: Hey Reggie, this is Andrew!
R: [robot voice] How are you doing, Andrew?
A: I’m good dude, how are you?
R: [normal voice] I’m doing alright.
A: What kind of mood are you in?
R: Well, I don’t know. I was just showing my friend some things on the computer, and some effects pedals. So I guess I’m in a good mood.
A: I’ve got two sets of questions for you, so it’s up to you to choose which one you want.
R: Okay.
A: I’ve got the serious, or the stupid questions.
R: Serious or stupid questions. Hmm. That’s a hard one. I guess, maybe.. the stupid ones?
A: Okay, we can try that.
R: Depends on what ‘stupid’ means.
A: Well, these are just random questions that I’m going to throw at you, to see how you respond.
R: Okay, let’s do that. Sounds like fun.
A: Do you have a power animal?
R: Do I have a power animal?
A: Yeah. An animal you think of in tough times, to get you through.
R: I usually think of… wolves.
A: A wolf?
R: Yeah. My power wolf.
A: That’s cool. Mine’s a dolphin.
R: Oh, really? Dolphins are awesome!
A: Yeah! They remind me of freedom, and I can just escape to that world and pretend I’m swimming in the ocean with my dolphin-friends.
R: And they’re intelligent.
A: Yeah, exactly! And I’ve heard they really like sex.
R: They do like sex. They’re totally.. they’re awesome. They’re the closest to ‘us’ in the sea.
A: Okay. How do you feel about baked beans?
R: When I grew up, baked beans were essentially something you associate with poor families. You know, if you were poor, you got baked beans. So when I went to London for the first time and had the proper English breakfast, which includes baked beans, and I was like “whaaat? Why am I eating poor people food?” Which is a horrible thing to think, but that was just my programming. Now I really like them! It totally makes sense to me. I actually enjoy baked beans. It’s really weird.
A: It’s a bit of a staple here in Australia as well. It’s not really associated with poor people, it’s just like a breakfast snack.
R: Yeah, exactly! It’s not a poor people food at all here. It’s normal people food.
A: What is your ideal breakfast?
R: My ideal breakfast is probably the Swedish breakfast. It has sour milk, which you can’t really find anywhere except Scandinavia. And muesli. And toast, with fish. And you pull herbs right off of a little bush and have that with the fish.
A: Whoa.
R: Yeah, it’s pretty weird. But it’s a great breakfast and I always feel really good after eating it.
A: You seem to prefer the cold breakfast over the hot breakfast.
R: It depends. Sometimes I feel like eggy-weggs. But for me, cold breakfasts are a little more efficient than a hot breakfast. Those are more involved. The hot breakfast is something you sit down with and really HAVE the breakfast. Whereas if it’s muesli and soy milk, or yoghurt, you can just take it with you and eat it. You don’t feel like an asshole.
A: Yeah, you can eat it in front of the computer, or whatever you want to do.
R: Exactly!
A: Whereas the hot breakfast, I associate that with, say, reading a newspaper.
R: Yeah, you take your time. When you have time for breakfast – have a hot breakfast!
A: Do you read newspapers?
R: I don’t. I read all my news online.
A: Me too. Did you ever read newspapers?
R: I never did. I tried to, but I couldn’t get into it. I know people who just love to crack open that newspaper and smell the ink, but I just found it unruly. Every time I open up a newspaper, I just feel like doing a bit with it, like a gag. The sound of rustling paper – I just want to keep doing that perpetually, and never find whatever I’m looking for, and keep folding it endlessly. To me, the newspaper is more of a ploy than an actual informational tool.
A: Would you ever date a blind girl?
R: I would date a blind girl. Yeah. Why not?
A: If she was a total babe.
R: Absolutely. Yeah!
A: What about a deaf girl?
R: A deaf girl would be great, too!
A: Do you think you could accurately portray your personality to a deaf girl?
R: Absolutely, because a deaf girl can see. If she was deaf AND blind, then you’d have a little bit of a problem. But I’d probably hug her a lot, and she’d probably really respond to that.
A: Yeah, she’d be really into touching. The tactile.
R: Yeah. I guess I’d just have to find a new way to relate to someone. But human beings are pretty adaptable.
A: Right on. If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do today?
R: If I knew I was going to die tomorrow.. (speaks slowly) I would probably get.. like, a bunch of heroin, and do that, and then just talk to people on beaches, and have girls come over. Or something like that. (laughs) And have someone record it all, and then have someone remix it later.
A: I took a look at your Vimeo page, and I saw that you’re getting into uploading videos on there.
R: Yeah.
A: Are you recording anything while you’re here in Australia?
R: I might. Sometimes when I travel I feel like recording a lot. But so far I haven’t really felt compelled. I’ve taken some little videos with my phone that I might upload at some point. Sometimes I get really addicted to uploading. But I’m better at uploading photos, I definitely put photos up all the time. Videos are a little bit more involved. They take longer, it’s not as fun. Whereas a photo I can take it and upload immediately. And a video is just like (groans) “ughhhh”.
A: Do you play video games?
R: I do like video games. But I don’t have a lot of time to play them. What usually ends up happening is that I find a video game and I just play it straight, for like a week, and then I’m good for a year. The last game I played – which they’re making another version of, I can’t believe it – it was an amazing, amazing game called Mass Effect, for the Xbox. If you like science fiction, especially 70s-style science fiction.. it’s futuristic, but it has a kind of Eno-vangelist sci-fi soundtrack. The plot is heavy, and deep, and the characters are amazing. It’s a really incredible game.
A: So you prefer sitting in front of a TV to play games, rather than handhelds?
R: Handheld’s alright. I have a DS. It’s good for travelling, but I would prefer to be immersed in a projected game. I’m going to get some HD head-mounted display goggles, and hook the video game console up to that so I can be really immersed. Just lay back on the bed and go for it!
A: God damn, they make those?
R: Yeah, they’re actually pretty cheap! You can get some high-def ones for $800 American dollars. Pretty fuckin’ cheap.
A: So you’ve tried it out?
R: Yeah. They’re great, they’re really light-weight. You wear them, and you have the stereo vision because there’s a separate monitor for each eye. It’s great.
A: That’s awesome. Do you play poker?
R: I don’t. I don’t like poker.
A: You’ve tried to play?
R: I’ve tried to, but it’s not fun. When everyone’s betting, it just seems overly, unnecessarily complicated. I would play poker just as long as I could make fun of poker the whole time. If I was allowed to, if people weren’t taking it too seriously. It’s such a silly game. Everyone’s monitoring each other. I understand that people are into the strategy of it, but at the same time, it’s just ridiculous.
A: Yeah. It seems a pretty funny thing to devote your life to, being a professional poker player and learning how to watch other people play.
R: Yeah. There’s an art to anything, but when I look at poker, I just think (groans) “Oh god.”
A: “You guys are lame.”
R: Yeah! “You guys suck!” (laughs) I don’t think that, it’s just funny to think about what people take seriously.
A: Do you think people take you seriously?
R: Probably not! I think they take me seriously in that they believe that I exist. But.. some people do. It depends on the context. When I have a conversation with someone, it’s pretty real, but when I give interviews and I’m in a weird mood, I might just fabricate a lot of things. But let the interviewers in on it. Just because I find that amusing.
A: If you couldn’t rock an afro, which hairstyle would you have?
R: I would probably do a mohawk. Some kind of weird, shaved-on-one side, spiky-on-the-other future punk-rock look.
A: A giant mohawk? Like three feet high?
R: Not quite a straight mohawk. It’d have to be something a little weird.
A: Is there such thing as a free lunch?
R: Absolutely. I have them all the time! (laughs)
A: Who is your favourite Looney Tunes character?
R: That’s a hard one. I don’t know if I’d want to be him, but the Tasmanian Devil is pretty hilarious. I guess the most.. intellectual of the characters would be Bugs Bunny, so I’m gonna say that even though it’s pretty generic. He was the most balanced, and in control. He tricked people. I like that about him.
A: Do you think that the bunny or the devil could potentially be your back-up power animals?
R: I think that the devil could definitely be a back-up animal (laughs) He’s kind of like Animal from The Muppets. Basically, when he stops, he’s Animal, and then he just turns back into a brown tornado.
A: Do you think he’s schizophrenic?
R: I don’t think he’s schizophrenic. He’s just got a lot of energy. And he’s got a caveman mentality.
A: How’s your hotel?
R: It’s an awesome hotel! It’s very civilised. It has a laundry machine, and a dryer, a microwave, a little kitchen, and a nice shower.
A: Is Trent [Barton, Zero Hour Collective] taking care of you?
R: Oh yes. He’s a professional.
A: So he’s not letting you wander out of his sight, so you can go and explore Sydney’s slums?
R: No, not yet. I’m sure that will come in the future. As they all get more successful, I’ll get worse living conditions.
A: You’re here for six weeks, aren’t you?
R: Yeah, I leave on the 11th or 12th of June.
A: You’re involved in the Sydney Festival, right?
R: Yeah, Vivid Sydney. It’s kind of confusing, because there’s three things going on: Vivid Sydney, Smart Light Festival, and Luminous, the Eno festival. It’s a little confusing. I think next year, they’re gonna have to work on their branding. I get what they’re doing artistically, because I spoke to the directors recently, but I shouldn’t have to think about it. But whatever, it’s going to be a great festival. Their intentions are pretty humanitarian.
A: Sweet. Do you Google yourself?
R: I do, all the time. I use Google Alerts.
A: Oh really? That was my next question. So you’re down with the technology.
R: Yeah, man.
A: You know what’s being said about you.
R: Yeah. I’ve always loved communications technology. I’ve been rocking smart-phones since the first smart-phone. I’ve been using organisers since the concept of organisers came out. Commodore 64s, scientific calculators.. I’ve always had some kind of a computer or storage device, and once networking became online, then I was totally down with that.
A: So when this interview is published online, you’ll be the first to know about it through Google Alerts.
R: Yes! It’s fascinating. It’s a good thing, because there’s so much stuff out there. I think everyone should put an alert out for their name.
A: When was the last time you cut yourself while shaving?
R: Man, the last time I shaved was a long time ago! I would say, maybe, seven or eight months ago.
A: Did it hurt?
R: Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it doesn’t, you know? (puts on British accent) If it’s a light graze, then it doesn’t hurt as much. (laughs) I don’t know. Probably not. No. I’m going to say no – okay, yes, it does, it hurts. Sorry. (laughs)
A: Do you believe masturbation is a sin?
R: Well, I grew up Catholic, so probably at first, I did. But not for long, it didn’t really stop me as a kid. I was pretty.. haywire, as they say. But I don’t think so. I think it’s necessary! (laughs)
A: I just can’t get how those devoutly religious people do it. Or don’t do it, in this case.
R: It’s just about self-control. That’s all. Why else would someone deny something that happens naturally? It’s like if you wanted to start a religion and make up arbitrary things that people can’t do. Like, “you can’t pick up coins from the ground”, or “you have to avoid low-hanging branches”. Things of that nature, and then people accept it – “yes, of course!” – and then you give these stupid reasons for why you shouldn’t. And some people might start to believe that. It’s just the power of belief that gives the strength to limitations.
A: Alright, I’m done with the stupid questions, so I might move onto some more serious ones now.
R: Alright.
A: Is that okay?
R: Yup.
A: Okay. At what time of day are you most productive?
R: Sometimes it’s late afternoon, sometimes it’s late at night. So if I had to give you an hour, it’d be 9pm.
A: Do you stay up late?
R: Yeah, I usually go to bed at around 3am.
A: Cool. Me too.
R: Yeah. It’s the best time.
A: Are you a procrastinator?
R: Definitely.
A: How do you deal with it?
R: I hate it, sometimes. I just end up getting in trouble, being late, or not completing something.
A: Have you gotten better?
R: Yeah. It’s an ongoing battle with myself. The best way to deal with it is to just be on time. Keeping a timely manner is the best way to avoid it, but it’s hard for me, because I like waiting until the last minute. It’s just my personality.
A: Did you go to university?
R: I went to Cornish College Of The Arts in Seattle, Washington, for about two and a half years. I studied Jazz Voice.
A: Did you leave your assignments until the last day?
R: Of course. Always. Sometimes I didn’t even do ‘em.
A: You procrastinated so hard that you didn’t hand it in.
R: Exactly. Which then moves beyond procrastination..
A: Into, what would you call it.. failure?
R: Yes, failure. (laughs)
A: When someone meets you for the first time, how do you describe yourself?
R: (pauses)
A: Or do you just assume that everyone knows who you are, instantly, because you’re a mega-celebrity?
R: No, no! That would be horrible to constantly assume that. “Don’t you know who I am?!” I don’t know, I guess I call myself an abstract musical comedian.
A: So when you tell people you’re a comedian, do they ask you to tell them a joke?
R: Sometimes, yeah.
A: Does it shit you to tears?
R: Not really. I either tell them that I don’t do jokes, or I just make up a really stupid joke that doesn’t make any sense. And they’ll be like “wow, I shouldn’t have asked that.”
A: “This guy’s not funny at all!”
R: “I don’t get it, how does he make a living?”
A: I was watching the promo video on the Zero Hour site, where you explain that you investigate the absurd side of comedy. Does that come easily to you?
R: I think so. It’s the way I’ve always seen life. I’ve always seen things as silly. Goofy. Even death, at times, can be goofy.
A: I watched that CollegeHumor video of yours, which deals with a pretty humorous topic in a pretty serious way. Or at least it appears to be serious. Would you consider that video to be absurdist humour too, because it takes a non-serious topic into a serious context?
R: Absolutely, yeah. It’s all about context and contrast. You take something serious and you expose how it’s actually absurd if you look at it through a different lens.
A: From what I’ve seen, your act uses a lot of swearing. Does that come easily, too?
R: I like swearing, but I like using it because it really gets the idea across. Or if you overuse it, then it becomes ridiculous. The audience wonders when it’s going to stop. It’s a fun thing to disarm people with, or to shock them into understanding that it’s not shocking. It’s just stupid.
A: People get offended by certain words, and then if you overuse them to the point of absurdity, that says to people, “well, they’re just words, why are you getting so pissed off?”
R: Yeah, you take the power away from it. And then sometimes people get angry because of that! “Oh, now we can’t complain about it, because it doesn’t mean anything!” Well, I’m sorry!
A: “I’m sorry for being so clever!”
R: Yeah. “You should have thought of it first!”
A: How did the CollegeHumor ["What About Blowjobs?"] collaboration come about?
R: CollegeHumor was co-founded by my former roommate, Jacob Lodwick. I met those guys through him. They’d come to my shows, and we’d explore the idea of doing something together. “What About Blowjobs” came about as a result of that. It was good!
A: It was good. Do you ever experience gear failure on stage?
R: Sometimes, yeah. But it’s just an opportunity to do something different, until it’s resolved.
A: Because you’re all about spontaneous performance: “no two shows are the same”.
R: Absolutely.
A: Do you ever sabotage your own gear to put yourself at a disadvantage?
R: (laughs) It’s kind of hard to do that. “Oh, I know who did that. I know what the problem is!” But no, it happens on occasion. It’s fine, I like it.
A: When you go and see a show, what do you like to see?
R: I like to see anything that’s really good. It can be serious, humorous, weird; dance, poetry, anything really, as long as it’s coming from a place of mastery. Of clear vision, or clear voice. That’s all that matters to me. Sometimes an idea isn’t fully developed, but it’s still great.
A: Is your show an attempt to capture that clear voice?
R: Kind of. The clear voice is the unclear voice in my show, but it’s a form of that, for sure. In my own way.
A: What’s awesome about touring the world?
R: Getting to know the world better.
A: What sucks about touring the world?
R: Not being able to stay healthy on the road, because you’re not living a consistent lifestyle.
A: How do you deal with that?
R: You don’t, you just try to do the best you can.
A: Suck it up!
R: Yeah, try to take a long vacation.
A: Okay, last question. What do you fear?
R: What do I feel?
A: Fear.
R: I guess I fear irrelevance, and dying from some stupid health condition.
A: In what kind of way do you want to die?
R: I don’t want to die at all, but I don’t know if that’s possible yet. (laughs) But along the way, I want to do the best to treat myself well, and limit the possibilities of death happening early.
A: Awesome, great outlook.
R: Thank you.
A: You’re up in Brisbane this week. The band supporting you are pretty kickass, you should check them out. They’re called Yeo & The Fresh Goods.
R: Oh, cool man. I’m definitely looking forward to it.
A: Thanks for your time, Reggie.
R: Thank you! Goodbye, sir.

Well, I hope that was mildly amusing. It was fun to do something different, right? More about Reggie at his site. He’s on Twitter, too.