Q: Runaway. You seem reluctant to edit your music. some would call that approach quite precious.
DMC: some people,sure. they are also…assholes.
Q: All of them?
DMC: yeah, all of em. fuckin jealous twatfaced assholes.
Q: Twatfaced assholes? seems like overkill.
DMC: hey, what can I say? I got da words! there ain’t no half measures with the Mac.
Q: The Mac?
DMC: yeah bro! the mac! ain’t no par time livin when the mac is in the house!
Q: ok. so lets get back to the song, mac.
DMC: yeah dawg, runaway. we is all runaways these days, this world be illin and I be chillin with my songwriting skillz yo, peace bruv.
Q: so what you are saying is, you were a big del shannon fan.
DMC: ya gots to know homeslice. shannon is the man. and i be runnin all over this bitch.
Q: so you were running away and now you’re coming back, return of DMC, run DMC etc.
DMC: you playin with me? disrepectin me bro?
Q: not at all. i got mad props for you dawg! you a musical genius!!! dis song speaks to my soul and the souls of million sensitive soulz!
(cue the laughter of male complacency)
Q: Could we drop the racial caricatures now please and get serious for a moment?
DMC: Sure bru…sure. okay. fine.
Q: I have to say this song – if one could call it as such-baffles me. It sounds clueless.
DMC: well, that’s just like your opinion, man. The idea was…and stil is…as it’s only a fucking sketch demo like…It’s about someone who can’t face up to things in their life and is always looking over their shoulder and around the corner, looking for an escape route. they can’t deal with emotional, financial problems whatever. the more we/they keep running/moving, the more they don’t have to face up to the uncomfortable truths and such. if they stop moving, they can’t breathe anymore. the idea of facing the fears, the problems is too much so keep moving forward without contemplating or reflecting on their actions, their experiences. because it will just hurt too much. they will feel too much. that is what scares them, me, us, maybe the whole human race. i don’t know. I’m rambling here mate. You will edit this?
Q: If you promise to edit this song. Nine minutes!
DMC: ok, deal. now…. gettin back to my point…whether or not i represent that idea from a musical standpoint, that is in the ear of the beholder so to speak. i went for emotion and mood. no scathing dylan-esque wordsmithery. that’s my default mode. If I had my druthers, i’d have the kitchen sink, prague philarmonic orchestra, female or a kids choir latherin it on.
Q: Now, here is where I really begin to question your intentions.
DM:Yeah, I can see that. Not sure if I can explain this one really.
Q: You were quoted – correct me if I’m wrong here by the way – as saying this track with it’s ridiculously long, some what say pompous, pointless title came to you in a dream.
DM: Yeah, sounds like fuckin Jim Morrison-esque, precious artiste bullshit right?
DM: And it was without the aid of drugs I might add. This was a lucid dream, something flew into my unconscious mind and settled there, when i awoke the dream was born into this, it poured out, a gold rush of musical ideas or something.
Q: Musical gold rush? you want to keep that analogy in print?
DM: maybe not. sounds gauche dunnit?
Q: excuse me?
DM: sorry, workin class diction resurfaces from time to time. you can take the estate out of the man etc…
Q: describe this track in your own words.
DM: Bangin! (chuckles to himself, no on else in the room laughs) Transcendental. Nocturnal rock. soundtrack to an unmade sofia coppola, michael mann film, my bloody valentine, me fucking around with a bottle slide effect and hey presto!!! as bobby davro used to say.
Q: jesus! I think we’ve got enough.
DM: fair enough. now do me a favour and do one! go on! fuck off! have to ingest me daily peyote & cocaine cocktail. get me in the creative head space.
Q: thank you for your time. i won’t keep you from your work. (real sarcastic tone like)
DM: ah, I was joshin with you man…I’m teetotal me!( his self amused, desperate laughter is as loud a thunderclap from god, a stampede of dancing elephants on the savannah room; like a virus, everyone else present in the room erupts into gales of kneeslapping laughter. A personal assistant almost chokes to death with the mirth of it all.)
Q: So, you claimed that you were attempting to resurrect the ghost of Elvis and Ian Curtis with this track. Quite a claim, no? Do you think you succeeded?
DM: (laughter with a large dollop of false modesty) Maybe I was going a bit far with that statement.
Q: Okay, so how would you describe the intentions now, in retrospect?
DM: Intentions? Not sure. It was all very…organic. Sorry, I’ve overused that word a bit much, sound like a prick. I was watching an interview with um….who was it? oh yeah, garry shandling! do you know the larry sanders show?
Q: yes. i’ve heard of it. somewhat esoteric comedy.
DM: esoteric? i guess you could say that. anyway, where was I? yes, so i was watching him do an interview and he was using that word quite liberally throughout without a hint of self consciousness.
Q: What word?
Q: I see, go on.
DM: Right. so ‘shake my bones’….yes, it came quite naturally, the sound i think. no! thats bullshit! That’s a lie. It was a very self-c0nscious attempt to create a song that sounded like The Cramps, PJ Harvey, Nick Cave or something that could have come straight out of a David Lynch movie. Primitive, reptilian back to basics rock and roll, retro but timeless; sweaty, twitchy, tortured desire with a groove to it you know?
Q: Really? Quite lofty comparisons.
DM: maybe. I mean, it’s a pastiche in a sense but then again, it isn’t, that bluesy singing style – in the higher register at least – comes quite naturally to me. i put 100% of myself in it so…
Q: And that’s your guitar playing?
DM: yes, basic three chord riffs on a fender telecaster. But i think basically its me trying to sound like PJ Harvey in a David Lynch production.
Q: Tad self-aggrandizing surely? Isn’t up to the listener to decide?
DM: Sure. Maybe it is. But if you are going to record and perform music, self delusion and self indulgence are usually what drive you forward, a mixture of blind faith and self belief. Otherwise, you will never even try. You need a benchmark, an inspiration to get the engine going.