Five years before, I walked through the gate of Fiddler's Green in Denver for Lollapalooza only to be greeted with the sight of Doo-Rag.
The Tucson twosome looked stupendous: guitarist Bob Log rocked a thrift-store guitar with a hole in the soundboard and Thermos Malling's drum kit was a beer box and a paint bucket. It sounded like the bastard sons of RL Burnside with a dose of weed and another dose of Ween. And probably some huffing from a can of ScotchGuard.
After his partner bailed, Log donned a helmet with a mic inside and went solo. He operated a drum and hi-hat with his feet.
This interview outlines the fundamental principles of his infamous “show me your tits” doctrine. His motives are obtuse, possibly not as prurient as pathologically silly.
He also talks about Ani DiFranco's audience, his stunning good looks -- and hitting Coolio in the eye with a bottle cap.
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I saw you at Lollapalooza, on the second stage. It was really hot, it was early... and I thought Doo-Rag was from outer space. Are you guys still doing stuff together?
Outer space? Well, that’s what it sounds like. Yeah, we still do things here and there. Joe Thermos had a baby, and he’s in a band named Coin, so he’s doing that. We just Doo-Ragged this summer, we went to Europe for two weeks, and we’ll get back together at some point.
Some folks looked freaked out by the sight of you two.
Maybe the first time, but we don’t mean no harm. We’re just trying to get people to shake the shit!
You guys worked hard in Doo-Rag.
We played every single day for probably about five years. You just gotta love it! I mean, if you don’t, you gotta just hang it up! I’ve always thought, anyway.
Some people hate to tour. You act like that's the best time of all.
That’s why we do it. It’s easy when you love it. It’s real easy. No matter how long the drive is, if I finally get to park, get out and then kick out some shit, I’ll drive that distance, you know? I just drove over from Tucson to New York, do you realize this? It was just for one show. What the hell —- get me out there, put me on a bill, and I’ll play. Drive for three days. Now, that’s not normal, but I’ll do it. I get to get out at the end of the day and kick somethin’ out, so it’s totally worth it by the time I get there. This time, I had to rent something 'cause my car I didn’t think would make it through the snow.
You were forced to be a percussionist.
I learned to play the drums with my feet. It was kind of an emergency. We suddenly couldn’t play, and for me it was a choice of going home and not playing, or kicking my guitar case and playing anyway. So that’s where I started, though I’ve evolved it since then. Now I’ve got all kind of drums. I’ve learned to play and I quit kickin’ the guitar cases cause they stared breakin’ and it was getting expensive.
How did the helmet thing start?
The first day I ever played by myself, I put the helmet on to hold the microphone in place. And also I’m a little sick of my face; I’m a little tired of it. And I don’t want people to listen to my music just because of how good-looking I am. I want 'em to concentrate more on the guitar.
Now, doesn't it get claustrophobic in there? Hot?
It can work that way. I can still see. From time to time it kind of fogs up a little bit. But the main purpose was to hold the microphone to my face, so no matter which way I’m turning... You know, I’ve got a lot to do up there. I can’t waste my time lookin’ for the microphone. A mic on a mic stand? That’s the stupidest system I ever heard of. And also, it’s protection. Look what happened to Curtis Mayfield. It’s not funny. It happened, and I feel bad -— I should have sent him one earlier. I heard that something like this just happened to Boy George, too — I should have sent him one too.
Really?
No, that’s okay, he can get hit.
Does it bother you to be isolated from the audience that way?
No, actually, no. When I got the helmet on, it’s just me and the guitar. I have trouble seeing stuff. Sometimes people clap their tits and I don’t even know it. I try to get people to tell me about it later. Just let me know: tap me on the shoulder and say, “Hey, I’m clappin’ my tits,” and I’ll be like, “Okay, you get a t-shirt after the show.”
But someone could be lying -- saying they're clapping their tits, when they're really not.
That’s always a danger. It is a danger. But I gotta stay away from it. Pay more attention to the guitar.
Do you think your music ever brings tears to eyes?
Oh yeah, I get people cryin’. But you know what I want people to do? You know what I’m tryin’ to get ‘em to do? I want people to take their tits out and clap 'em along with me.
Is it working?
It’s starting, it’s starting to happen. It’s taken America and the rest of the world just a little bit of time for me to warm ‘em up, but the second time I come back to a city, someone’s takin’ em out. Not every time, but it’s starting to happen more and more.
Wow.
It sounds great, don’t it?
Men as well as women?
Sometimes a guy will jump onstage, rip off his shirt and clap his hands against his breasts, like one hand per breast.
But that’s cheating!
That’s cheating. I appreciate it, and sometimes it’s better than nothing. Sometimes it ain’t. But that’s not the way the song goes. But I do appreciate the effort, though. If a big, fat guy gets onstage and claps his tits together, I’m totally fine with that. I don’t prefer that; I ain’t gonna pay for it. But I would remember that party.
There is a video comin’ out, “Clap Your Tits,” and it’s gonna have some of the actual recording session, and that girl playing live with me in Tucson. And I’m making the video so that the cake actually gets baked with the tits like in the songs.
Huh?
It’s about a cake that’s being baked without using no hands, just tits. It’s kind of a lumpy brown little cake, but it tastes good. (laughs hysterically)
Ever cleared a room before?
I’d have to answer that with a yes. (laughs) I actually cleared the room in Oxford, Mississippi, the home of my label. There were maybe 50-60 college frat boys in the bar, and by the end it was just two of my friends shouting "Play more! Play more!" so I did.
Boy, you've teamed up on some odd bills...
Yeah, it’s funny how it happens. I get heavy metal bands, folk singers.. I get Coolio (laughs).
Yeah, he was also on that 1995 Lollapalooza tour.
That was the day I hit him in the eye with a bottle cap. In Denver.
On purpose?
No, it was an accident. He asked me to open his beer bottle, and I had I just just learned how to open my beer bottle by flippin’ the cap up with a lighter, and it shot off and hit him in the eye. We shared a trailer on that tour. He just grabbed the beer, gave me a dirty look and walked way. So I thought, “Man, I’m gonna get my ass beat already. Damn, and it's the first day.” But then he came back, asked me to open another bottle, and he covered his head and acted like I was gonna hit him. It was okay. He didn’t really mind.
At Lollapalooza, you were the very first act -- you had to get the party started.
We tried to. We had to start playing at noon, so we had to start the party by 11. Which meant by 4:30 we were pulling ourselves around by our lips, and then we had to drive 700 miles, but it was good. I had a great time.
What was it like opening for Ani DiFranco?
I had never been a part of something that was so organized and successful. I didn’t know anything about her. I said, “I don’t know... what is this about again?” And when they told me she played for 3,000 women very night, that’s when I hopped on the boat. When am gonna have a chance to do that again?
Did you have fun? Did the crowd respond?
That's where "clap your tits" got invented, I was just trying to get people to do it, I didn’t have a song or anything at that point. They didn’t seem to be paying too much attention. I’m not out to cause any trouble, I just wanna party. And that’s just one way to bring the party up a notch. I think people who have boobs realize this. And I think most people have a sense of humor, and those are the people I’m talking to.
Did you like Ani's music?
It’s maybe not my cup of whatever, but it sure seems like a lot of people like it. I don’t have any of her records, but I appreciate her bringing me along. I'd do it again. They're nice people.
You have a compact, mobile, portable self-sufficient system...
It’s a one-man band, and you know what? We’re all one-man bands. You, me, everyone reading this, we are all one-man bands. It’d be a hell of a long show, but we can do it. Some people say, "I can’t play music! I don’t have this, I don’t know how....” That’s bullshit. I can play music with a guitar and a guitar case. Let’s go. You either want to or you don’t. You just gotta work on it.
Clappin’ your tits, well, I just want to jam with people, and that’s one way of doin’ it. Anyone who wants to jam with me, just come on down, take 'em out and tune 'em up. You gotta be in tune, so make sure to buy my record and see if you’re in tune.
Now, I'd read you wanted to cross the country by hopping on one leg. How is that coming along?
It’s gettin’ there. I bet I could hop all the way home to Tucson if I wanted. It’s only my right leg. My left leg doesn’t have to work so hard. So my right leg is huge, and my left leg is a skinny little toothpick.
Doesn't that make you walk funny?
Yeah, a little bit. It’s more of a swagger. But I've always had that.
(Copyright 2010 by Jeffrey Charles Stratton. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be reproduced, published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed without permission.)
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