I spent weeks working on some of these stories, what I realized is that most of the time I was waiting for just one moment of truth or authenticity. After all, you can tell a lot about a person or a situation in a minute. But only if you choose the right minute.
Here are 233 of them.
When I met Strokes singer Julian Casablancas at 19th Hole, a dive bar near his apartment in Manhattan, he was wearing the same outfit he’d worn for the past week: a green work shirt with the words “U.S. Garbage Company” over the pocket and faded black pants. On his wrist were three fraying colored paper bracelets: one from a Kings of Leon concert a week earlier, another from a Stooges show two weeks ago, and a third from a Vines show who knows when.
As he ordered two beers for himself, he announced with evident pride that he’d finally come up with a press answer to “the Nigel Godrich question.” (The band had hired Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich to work on its latest CD, but then quickly parted ways with him.) When asked what his great soundbite was, Casablancas said he would tell me when we began the interview. The tape deck was dutifully started. And so began . . . the worst interview ever.
JULIAN CASABLANCAS: I’m drinking myself back into the game.
I’ve noticed that people tend to think you’re drinking and out of it. But the truth is that you’re ultra-aware of everything going on and everyone’s motivation—
CASABLANCAS: That’s your opinion.
And what’s yours?
CASABLANCAS: I don’t see myself that way. If you see it that way, cool, thanks.
So how do you see it?
CASABLANCAS: I see myself out of my own eyes, which means I have no idea what’s going on the other way around. I just think I try to be a good person—and I fail.
Casablancas reaches over the table and presses stop on the tape deck. Then he immediately starts it again.
CASABLANCAS: I’m sorry.
I don’t care. Do what you want.
He turns the tape recorder off; I turn it back on.
Let’s talk about the music instead.
CASABLANCAS: Fuck music.
All right, good. So let’s talk about your shirt. You have a whole closet full of—
He turns the tape deck off again. I look at him. He looks at me. Then I turn it back on.
CASABLANCAS: Talk to me.
Okay, so what’s your stock answer to the Nigel Godrich question?
CASABLANCAS: Fuck you. I’m not answering that question.
What the hell?
CASABLANCAS: Next question.
It’s interesting. People’s true personality comes out when they’re drunk . . .
CASABLANCAS: You’re too nice, man.
RANDOM WOMAN AT NEARBY TABLE: What’s he like when he’s sober?
CASABLANCAS: Sober he’s a fucking asshole.
RANDOM WOMAN: So what is he right now?
Half sober, half drunk.
CASABLANCAS: And when he’s tired, he’s a rapist. (Looks warily at the tape recorder, then speaks into the microphone:) Rape is bad. Very, very bad.
Honestly, this has to be the worst—
CASABLANCAS:—the worst interview ever?
Oh man, good times.
CASABLANCAS: Good times. “Whoa-oh-oh-oh, for the longest time.” (Starts singing the Billy Joel song to the tune of the Clash’s “Spanish Bombs,” which is playing on the jukebox.) It’s the exact same melody.
He leans over and turns off the tape deck again, then sits in his seat, swaying and staring.
[Continued . . .]
Despite rumors that Suge Knight wanted him dead for leaving Death Row Records several weeks earlier, there were no security gates, armed guards, or electric fences at Snoop Dogg’s house in Claremont, just outside Los Angeles. There was just a sweatsuit-clad Snoop, who pulled me into the living room and pushed me into his home studio. Above the door, a sign read, “Home Honey, I’m High.”
SNOOP DOGG: I want you to hear a few songs first. (Presses play on a DAT machine, and leaves the room while thirteen songs he’s just finished recording blare from the studio speakers. As soon as the last song ends, he bursts back through the door.) Well, did you tape some of it?
Of course not.
SNOOP DOGG: You should have.
What?!
SNOOP DOGG: Didn’t we talk yesterday about taping pieces of the album and leaking them on the Internet?
Yeah, but most rappers try to avoid leaking their music, because then no one will buy it when it comes out.
SNOOP DOGG: Fuck it, just bootleg that motherfucker. Come on, man. I’ll give you the ones you want.
Should I just leak it on the Internet, or do you want radio too?
SNOOP DOGG: All of it, man. That’s what I want you here for. I ain’t never done that shit before. (He plays three songs, and watches diligently to make sure I record them.) Cool. Can we use your wheels? I gotta go get Pampers.
For real?
SNOOP DOGG: It’s cool. We can ride and do the interview. I always do interviews riding and shit. I remember
