Like a lot of aspiring musicians, I sometimes dream of being interviewed. The movie The Commitments nailed it when the lead singer interviewed himself in the bathtub. “Who are your influences?” “When did you know you were going to be famous?” “What did it feel like the first time you heard your song on the radio?”. These questions must be unbearably tedious for musicians who’ve really made it (the musical equivalent, perhaps, of “where do you get your ideas?”), but for unfamous me, the thought of holding forth on my favorite obscure bands while someone records every word for my adoring fans sounds pretty good.
Unfortunately for me, nobody cares about the drummer. In her funny and engaging memoir But Enough About Me, journalist Jancee Dunn gives her secret for getting a decent interview from a recalcitrant band:
Thus it is [the band’s] duty to convey that these interviews are a nuisance, and they would be just as happy rehearsing in a garage somewhere. At this time you must roll out the heavy artillery. Pay attention only to the drummer. Laugh uproariously at his jokes. Stare with dumbfounded awe as he offers up his philosophies. Shake your head and say things like “I never thought about it before, but you are absolutely right—drumming is a metaphor for life!” […] As the puzzled but excited drummer blossoms under your admiring gaze, his other band mates, particularly the heretofore-mute sunglasses-wearing lead singer, will be at first confused, then annoyed. Finally, their competitive spirit will take over and they will enthusiastically jockey for attention, offering amusing anecdotes about groupies and telling off-color jokes.
Do not use any quotes from the drummer.
For the record, I have never claimed that drumming is a metaphor for life.