Gutter Talk
Punk legend Jesse Malin still has sex in the street.
April 10, 2007
ative New Yorker and serious singer/songwriter Jesse Malin is set to release his third solo record this month. Having spent a few years in the shadow of best pal Ryan Adams (the two worked together on Malin's previous records), Malin is ready to grab the spotlight for himself. Glitter in the Gutter, his first release on new label Adeline (run by his friend Billie Joe Armstrong of Green Day), is a boisterous, catchy and authentically rock 'n' roll record about finding hope in music. Having spent over two decades playing in respected bands (including Heart Attack and D-Generation), Malin is an old soul (with a kinda weird haircut) who was more than happy to tell Nerve all his dirty secrets. — Amelia McDonell-Parry
You started making music, as a career, when you were only fourteen.
Yeah, I was in some hardcore punk bands. We traveled and we toured and it got me out of going to school. Music was my education. I was born in Queens. My mom worked, and she tried to discipline my sister and me, but we got in all sorts of trouble. Records saved me from the mainstream suburban close-minded Queens mentality. I fantasized about having sex with my cool, older babysitters and they turned me on to Led Zeppelin.
What were you like as a teenage boy?
Pretty much the same way I am now, but I was a little angrier. I didn't know how to channel it until I started listening to music. First there was Kiss — I spit blood and wrapped myself in tinfoil to play a talent show. Then it was the Ramones — learning three chords and declaring, "I don't have to practice guitar anymore to be Van Halen. I can write a song and go to CBGBs." I was always into dressing different, and I had a weak eye so I had to wear a patch.
A pirate patch?
Yeah. My mother said, "Think of Captain Hook!" But I was really embarrassed so I would take the patch off, throw it, roll around on the floor. I became the class clown as a defense, to survive and get through things. Music told me that it was okay to be a little different, that you didn't have to be like everybody else. I still encourage that a lot in my music and writing. It's still a big theme, that freedom, that individuality, taking chances. This particular record is saying it in a defiant, but hopeful way.
New York has really changed since you were growing up here.
New York used to be not considered really part of America. We were our own little European city. But now I see stuff I would see in a strip mall in Iowa — Applebee's, Duane Reade, Kinko's, Subway, and then the next block it's the same thing. But there are still great elements to New York. I write most of my lyrics while I'm walking around the city, scribbling on a pad, singing it to my voicemail or a tape recorder. In Los Angeles, where I recorded this album, if you walk around they think you're a male prostitute.
You hear that people, especially people from New York, either love or hate L.A.
I lost my place in New York due to what we were just talking about — they sold it and I couldn't buy so I had to move out. I thought L.A. would be a nice change. But you have to drive everywhere, you're in the air conditioning all the time, if you need toilet paper or bottled water you have to get into the car, everyone's on the phone, everybody's in a rush. The people out there never call anyone by their full name — it's all "Jess, Jerr, Larr, how was the sesh?" I thought it was kind of lonely. Making a right turn on a red light is not the cultural advantage that can replace Annie Hall.
Did you have a theme for the record?
Not really, no. I don't sit down and say, "I'm going to write an album about pink robots battling slushees." But I did start to notice as I was writing that the theme is about finding the things to get us through life, like a three-minute song on the radio and my mom singing along in the car. The record is definitely saying, "Fuck all this misery, life is happening right now." My friend, the photographer Bob Gruen, always says, "Wherever you go, there you are." Make shit happen.
How was it working with Bruce Springsteen?
Everything everybody says about him is true — he's a down-to-earth guy, he really fucking is. I wrote this song called "Broken Radio" about my mom. She was a frustrated singer and passed away from cancer when I was eighteen. She always sang in the car, she sang in the shower, she had big dreams and she really supported me with my music. I remember that singing along to a song on the radio for three minutes would make a big difference in her day. I sent Bruce the song with a letter and he called and said "I'd love to be on it." It was just amazing. You write this song in your little apartment and here's this guy who you listened to on the radio, saw play at Jones Beach, someone who my dad loves, and here he is singing on "Broken Radio."
Is your dad still alive?
Yeah, he is. He was one of those dads who was always like, "Cut your hair, get a job!" When I would tell him I was playing a show at CBGB's he'd say, "I'll come see you when you play the Garden." But then D-Generation did play the Garden when we opened for Kiss and he came. He comes to my gigs now and he's always telling me, "Write a ballad, write a ballad! Queen, what's their most famous song?" "Bohemian Rhapsody." "Kiss, what's their most famous song?" "Beth." "Lynyrd Skynyrd?" "Free Bird." "Exactly! Write a ballad, write a ballad!"
When did you lose your virginity?
At age eleven, to a twelve-year-old who was very developed. I got off really quick and she made me feel bad about it. She said she had to go to the bathroom and finish herself off. Before I lost my virginity, I was getting some play from the pretty girls at school, but they were all into Bon Jovi. So I tried to go to a prostitute in New York. I had twenty-five dollars and I went down to 42nd Street — they must have seen me coming because I got mugged. I never made it to the prostitute.
You got robbed for twenty-five bucks?
Yeah, they also got my gloves, my knives and my spiked belt, but I was very happy to be okay and I've never been back to a prostitute. Sex is such a big part of life, but sex and money don't really do it for me. I don't like tittie bars, they depress me. I've walked through the red light district in Amsterdam and seen the frowns. I like to connect with somebody, see the fire in their eyes.
Do you remember what was playing the first time you had sex?
Yeah, it was the Rolling Stones' record Made in the Shade. The needle would lift up and go back — it was "Angie", "Bitch" and "Dance Little Sister" over and over. Those songs still freak me out. I got over that problem though, the coming-too-quick thing. There's a book I read in my teens called "The Tao of Love and Sex" and it had some good ways to hold back your explosion.
What attracts you to a person?
Somebody who's an individual, a bit of an outlaw, that's generous, loving and sexual but in a real, connected way not in a disconnected way. I can't just say, "I like blondes and big tits!" I don't like people who look like they just popped out of a magazine and aren't real. Ultimately I like someone who really believes in love who I can go to that place with where you create an unconditional feeling that goes beyond physical appearance, status, money, and all that other bullshit.
Do you have groupies?
A few. I had someone show up at my door and not leave. That was scary. I don't usually participate. I wanted to make a live album called "Don't Fuck the Fans." But really, you know, music can open doors. I was a guy who was rejected a lot and didn't get a lot of acceptance. But you get onstage, make records, and are in magazines and suddenly there are these women who want to be with you. At first it was like, it might not happen again. Like Cinderella I might go back to being an ugly jerk. I've had some one-night experiences and sometimes they're special and fun, but more often than not you end up going to the bathroom to take a leak and look at yourself in the mirror, wondering, "Where's the ejector button?" So yeah, there are definitely some groupies out there, but it's not like I'm Ricky Martin.
Do you find that sex makes its way into your lyrics?
Sex is a big part of music, period, whether it's the lack of sex, like an Elvis Costello type of sound; or Little Richard, being maybe a latent homosexual that's in pain; or James Brown, where the sex just explodes out of the music. Sex is definitely a part of rock music, whether it's the need for, an over-abundance of, or a lack of sex being conveyed. What did George Clinton say? "Bring your ass and your mind will follow."
Where's the craziest place you've ever had sex?
Wow. Basements, bathrooms, the street.
In the street?
In the street. I've had sex right out there, on Crosby Street. Also, a lot of gross bathrooms where you make sure you don't touch anything but the person you're with.
Have you ever had anyone propose anything in the bedroom that freaked you out?
Yeah. "Hit me in the face." I had this girl who really wanted me to hit her in the face and she wanted it hard. I gave her a tiny little tap, thinking that would get the job done, but she wanted more. I'm all about getting into my animal instinct and having some fun, but I can't resort to violence.
How do you deal with sexual frustration when you're on tour?
Masturbation. But even on tour, that's hard too. You've got to find a quiet moment when no one's around. We have bunk rubs behind closed curtains. I've heard of guys jerking off into a sock, but they're usually on my feet and I usually shoot in the other direction. Online sex, I haven't really done. I can't type.
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©2007 Amelia McDonell-Parry and Nerve.com