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The Tampa Tribune

Published: August 8, 2008

It's sometimes difficult to prepare for a phone interview with a member of a band I don't like. That part of me I need to repress for obvious reasons wants to ask:

"Why does your band suck so much? Do you actually want to sound like that? Is this a joke? A twisted government experiment? Are you trying to determine the suck threshold? Do you hate humanity? What would it take to get you to stop?"

I mean, I've got my opinions like anybody else. And I'll admit I tend to take bad music - excuse me, music I think is bad - personally.

So I sometimes have to remind myself that the people who make music I'm not so fond of aren't necessarily evil. Which is frustrating.

Because I've also had the unfortunate experience of interviewing artists whose music I love and who turned out to be 100 percent, all-beef, USDA-inspected jerks. Lou Reed, I'm looking at you.

What happens more often is that I talk to someone whose music I normally wouldn't listen to with your ears, pal, and they turn out to be charming. Sweethearts, even.

Kenny G? Extremely pleasant.

Yanni? A delight.
Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20? Smart, funny, engaging.

Drives me crazy.

I love The Buzzcocks but I understood roughly every third word of Pete Shelley's rapid-fire, Mancunian-accented speech. The most enlightening thing Jonathan Richman said, after ringing unexpectedly on deadline, was "Um, no."

Oh well. Liking someone's music doesn't guarantee an enlightening interview.

Besides, history is full of great artists who weren't such great humans.

A colleague once scored a phone interview with Miles Davis. Davis hung up after four words, one of which has 12 letters and can't be printed here.

Thanks, Miles.

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