Paul Westerberg: Interview by Mark Brown 1999

Once again, thanks to Mark Brown for providing the complete text of an interview he did with Paul; the original article was published on sidewalk.com.

Early Feburary, 1999: Another album, another interview: Suicaine Gratifaction is a much more personal album than previous, resulting in a much more personal interview with Paul where we ended up just shooting the breeze and trying to decipher his own song lyrics. It's all pretty self-explanatory, so read on.

Q. Give me your version of how this album happened.

Once upon a time … (laughs). That's a tall order. I started writing these tunes directly after coming off of my last tour. I've never written as many songs in a short period of time – or as many good songs as this. So I wrote about half of it, recorded it in my basement, and I was then getting off of my Warner's deal. In a way it was my demo tape that I was shopping around to the labels. I played it for Gary (Gersh); I think I played him "Self Defense" and "Sunrise" and he said this is pretty much exactly where he thought I should be. We started the conversation off with him talking about what he thought was wrong with my last record.

Q. And what was that?

Oh, I didn't listen! (laughs). It's like bringing a used car in – 'Yeah, you don't want that piece of shit, I'll put you in a nice brand new one.' No, he had a few valid points and it was nice to know that we were both sort of thinking along the same lines. So he signed me. And Don Was got involved, via an accidental phone call to me.

Q. What was that?

He called me for some other reason. I'd known Don casually and he called me, I think, to play with another artist or do a duet or something. I was under the assumption he was calling me to make a record – to say 'How you doin', what you got?' So I kinda took the helm and started pitching my new album.

Q. And you bent him to your will?

Yeah. But anyway, he said sure, let's do it. I played him the same songs and he agreed that we should keep them as simple as possible. We basically spent a lot of time re-recording things that we knew were good enough. I felt like I already had the record in my back pocket, but you sorta have to try things a few times to see, to make sure. Out of those session in New York we got "Best Thing That Never Happened" and "Lookin' Out Forever," the more aggressive rock 'n' roll stuff. There was the balance.

Q. Any idea what caused that burst of songwriting? Does that just happen to you?

Serious depression and a sense of coming away from performing with a vague feeling of "I don't want to perform anymore."

Q. Why was that?

I don't know. I can't really put my finger on it and say it was because of that show there and that audience. The shows were good; it was perhaps maybe I'd just become to adept at what I was doing to where it was no longer creatively fun for me onstage.

Q. That wonderful combination of frustration and depression usually doesn't help people get more prolific.

It usually doesn't, but in this case I had a healthy dose of fear thrown in. I didn't have a clue as to what my next move was. Well, I don't want to perform anymore, I gotta get off this label, the leaves started falling from the trees and the rain started and I basically sat in the basement and just wrote and wrote and wrote and recorded. I'd never sort of delved that much into my brain. I felt like the next thing I'm writing has got to be the real "what's going on in my head." I don't care if it's commercial. I don't care if people understand it at all. I guess I feel I made "a commercial effort" on the last record and it was ignored. Nothing like being slapped down for trying. So it was just "The hell with you, then. I'm just gonna make what I like."

Q. It seems like this album was just what was on your mind at the time you wrote it.

Yeah. Whether I just didn't have the will to sort of unplug the thing that kept cranking them out… I became obsessed with it. I started writing night and day. It was a manic-depressive phase where it was a serious downward spiral, but it was also sorta coupled with mania where I couldn't sleep and was up all night. It just sort of got worse and worse. Yet I didn't just sit there and do nothing and sink down like that. In a way it was like therapeutic; I was actually working through it, even if it was creating something that was about a dark subject matter. It made me feel validated to accomplish something.

Q. It seems so reflected in the album; there are these themes of giving up in some spots, yet there's this dogged determination and sense of hope, too.

It's kind of a farewell to something. It's an introduction of something else. "Bookmark," that song doesn't even rhyme and that's probably the first one I've ever written in my life that didn't. I didn't intend to; it just came out that way. I think I freed something in my creative side that I sort of put to bed on the other hand.

Q. You said that the songs people are closest to are the ones you don't edit much. I would think that would include songs such as "Things," "Even Here We Are," those songs like that.

Those would be the ones. The great majority of these are those songs. They weren't rewritten lyrically. The ones that were, it was maybe the third verse changed or something. But yeah, I don't have a solid answer as to why this one is different. I think I was just fed up; why say something twice? If you mean it once, once is enough. Why rewrite it if that's what I meant the first time?

Q. So do you feel that in the past you've gone against your natural instincts?

Oh yeah. Yeah. Being my own worst critic, I'm always trying to make the stuff better. So if four people I kinda like come in the room and start saying "Well, this one is better than that one," they will influence me. This is truly a solo record where maybe the last two before it were me trying to like still be in a rock group. It's funny; as soon as the band broke up I went back to making records that were performable and all that. I had no sense of "I'm gonna go out with a rock group and play this stuff." This is what I like and I'm not gonna listen to anyone else.

Q. That's carried over onto the sound. I thought "Eventually" was somewhat stripped down, but I put those songs on a tape next to some of these and the difference was astounding.

Yeah. I'm not sure where that all came from. I know there's a reason for it. We don't have all day for me to think about it, other than … I'm trying to think, what haven't I said before? I'm forcing the people to listen to the words. And when you don't put an extra instrument on there and when you don't change the melody or give them a little piece of ear candy, they either turn it off or they become enthralled in the story. This is almost like a spoken-word record, but there's strong melody. I'm very proud of it; this is the first time I ever allowed them to reproduce the lyrics. It's not in the record itself but there are a few special editions that'll have them. I've never wanted to do that before. I've never felt that rock songs are poetry or whatever, and this is the first time that some of them actually stand alone, without the song.

Q. You were lucky to find both Don and Gary having the same idea about where you should go on this album. Don has a very transparent production style here that didn't interfere. But did Gary's departure from Capitol Records complicate things?

It's not a problem. I would have made this record, in one form or another, without them. It was the best thing in the world and it was exactly what I needed. I needed two very smart guys who know the real shit when they hear it. And they know when something's disposable. We had to argue over a few songs and in the end, that's exactly why I hired Don. It's easier for an outsider to see something that doesn't have long-lasting value. But Gary actually is working for my management company. In a way, we're still working together. I don't even know if he's my manager. But he works along with my manager.

Q. Is it scary releasing something like this? You see so many people doing great work that gets ignored.

I've gotten used to it. (laughs). I've truly, truly gotten used to it. If something doesn't work for you the way you planned it, you tend to gravitate toward others who have faced a similar fate. If it's books I'm reading or things I see on television where people are talking about their career, certain things always keep repeating. As soon as you try to write for people, they don't want it. They only react to things that come from the heart and come from the gut. I've always felt I've followed that, but after I made this record I realized no, I didn't. I certainly strayed from that. So I'm back kinda to square one. As stupid as "Sorry Ma" was, I wasn't writing songs, I was 19 years old and yelling what I was doing that afternoon. This is very similar and yet maybe I can edit, a little better, the bullshit.

Q. There are two thoughts your fans have about you. One is that you have THE great, classic Replacements album still inside you, and you could make it anytime you want. But you don't.

The Replacements album that they really want is – we should get back together and record a blank record, with a cover, and make them pay for it. They would hate it and hate us, but I guarantee you it would be exactly what the real fans would want. It was all about 'What are they gonna do next?' As soon as the audience dictates it, it's gone.

Q. The other conviction out there is you could create a blockbuster anytime you wanted to, that you could do like Bruce Springsteen did -- take some songs, purposely polish them up into a Born in the USA blockbuster.

Uh….only … well, no. I can't change to make that hit. If everything changed around me, then sure. But I don't even think along those lines at all. There's so much ass-kissing necessary to make that kind of sales, I could no longer either physically or mentally even entertain the notion of going around and being nice to that many people. (laughs). So fear not!

Q. The Billboard interview makes it sound like you never wanna play live again and if you ever did, you'd never play another Replacements song. Is it that severe?

Ah… I never wanted to give that impression, that 'Oh, it's those damn Mats songs that are the problem.' Those are the songs I've written; they're just the oldest. I'll say this: The album was borne out of feeling like I don't wanna play again. And for me to immediately pick up the instruments now and prepare for a tour almost feels like I've tricked myself. And I didn't. It wasn't a strategy; it was a necessity. A lot of these I don't see making it to the concert stage. "Self Defense" is written by myself, recorded by myself. To bring it to an audience – what's the purpose? You can hear the record. I'm probably not gonna sing it better, ever live. To me live performance is entertainment, it's rock 'n' roll. If you you're not gonna do that, who wants to see the lonely guy up in the spotlight shiver and quake? I'm not prepared to do that.

Q. What will you do? I heard a radio thing where you did this amazing acoustic version of "Love Untold" on the last tour. Might you do that kind of promo tour?

I don't even remember doing that.

Q. Some place in Texas?

Oh yeah, OK. Um, yeah, I'm up for doing that. There's some documentary footage that's been shot in New York and L.A. Don actually shot me playing in the bathroom, three or four songs. I think to start along those lines first is the way I'd like to do it. It's so funny; you make a record, you pour your life into it and the first thing they wanna know is 'When are you gonna come perform?' It's unnecessary. This is the record, buy it, live with it, then we'll see.

Q. What made it not fun to do that anymore? It always seemed like you were having fun onstage.

Part of it comes from not being in a rock band. If you can't share fun, what good is it? When I was up there with hired musicians as opposed to guys who are your band, it's a different kind of thing. You don't fight as much when you hire 'em, but there's just no … (sigh) … there's no replacing a band like The Replacements. You know? If you're gonna play rock 'n' roll, you need a rock 'n' roll band. You can't hire guys to be spontaneous. Maybe in an odd way, I was realizing that I was out there on tour and my audience wasn't there. I don't know who was showing up, but it wasn't necessarily the people I thought should be hearing me. Maybe I was frustrated. I'm not 22, I don't hang out in bar rooms. I saw a lot of that coming to my shows. It was like 'Man, this ain't right.'

Q. Do you still love writing?

Um…I do it, but I don't love to sit down and write a song, ever, really, no. I feel compelled to do it or finish it. I'll feel satisfaction for a moment when it's done. Or when it starts to come together. But I don't get up in the morning and can't wait to get to a pen or a keyboard or something.

Q. You don't ever get a melody in your head that makes you unable to do anything else until you sit down and…

Till I sit down and go through my record collection and find it? (laughs). The melodies I have in my head are the ones that I can't sing. (laughs). If I could actually vocalize what I hear in my head, I could be extremely dangerous. We all have our burdens to bear. Maybe Bob Dylan has a symphony in his brain.

Q. Do you work on your voice or guitar playing? It seems to have gotten better over the years. I know that Dylan and others have actually sat down, mid-career, and taken guitar lessons.

Wow. Really?

Q. Yeah; Carlos Santana says he gave Dylan guitar lessons just before the recording of Blood on the Tracks.

OK. God. No, I don't at all. I'm kind of a different school. I'll buy a new instrument and it'll make me excited and take me away from whatever. I'll buy a trombone, I don't know how to play it, but I'll spend two weeks just horsing around with it. Jack of all trades, master of none is sort of my modus operandi.

Q. Do you ever get pissed when your phrases turn up places – "feelin' like a hundred bucks," "rebel without a clue," "can't hardly wait"?

Where did "feelin' like a hundred bucks" end up?

Q. I saw it in an episode of "Cheers" with Woody Harrelson telling someone "you look like a hundred bucks."

Where did it come from? (laughs)

Q. From "Alex Chilton."

Oh, OK. The positive side is that I've always felt like I'm ahead of my time and I've got ideas. I remember telling somebody ten years ago, maybe longer – I said "One day, punk rock is gonna sell beer." (laughs). And they go "Get out of here!" I'm goin' "Mark my fuckin' words. It's gonna happen." And when it happened, it's like part of me wants to smile and the other part is "Why can't I ever parlay this into some sort of fortune?"

Q. Because other people certainly manage to.

Yeah, yeah. I think I'm in the wrong occupation.

Q. I'll say the words so you don't have to: "Goo Goo Dolls." When you see others blatantly copying your style, commercial-ing it up and getting great attention, does it drive you nuts? Because it would kill me.

Um…ah…you know … it's weird. Because I don't feel like … I don't have some great quote. It's better that he take it somewhere than for it to go unheard. But it's not like he's taken – he doesn't have my soul. You know? He can take my style and do what he wants with it. We're not unfriendly. I like Johnny. I wish him luck and everything. I hear his words over melodies and I immediately sing different words. I wanna call him up. But no, the good side I suppose is I get a mention every time he gets a write-up. I'm sure he hates my guts by now.

Q. Tell me about the version of the album with special packaging with lyrics and artwork. I don't know anything about your art beyond your music.

I would think that's a falsehood. I saw what it was and there is no artwork. If I throw my shirt in the corner and spit on it, that's my art.

Q. No doodlings, no drawings?

Well, there are, but there are no pictures or things that one would generally think of as "Ah, look at this work of art." There are lyrics scrawled on the back of matchbooks and junk like that. They just told me "Whatever you have laying around" and I stuffed an envelope full of playing cards, words, stuff like that. But there are no drawings or pictures or anything like that.

Q. So where are you going from here? This is the best record I've heard in a couple of years. But I don't know if there's a single here, and I guess there's no touring. Where are you going from here?

I wouldn't say there's no tour. And I wouldn't say there's no single. "Lookin' Out Forever" – the strange thing is every station jumped on that before they were told that was gonna be the one. They instinctively grabbed it. At one time five stations here were playing the thing, like a month in advance. That has never happened before. We had to pull teeth to get them to play us. Maybe that staying away for an extra year was good. And as far as no tour – if everything lines up and if it's as simple as the thing gets some airplay and I feel that people have digested it and my physical health sort of mends, I'll probably travel and play some songs, yeah.

Q. Is it anything besides your back?

The back is the greatest symptom of it. It might be A.S., a severe case of that, which ankylosing spondylitis – it's like rheumatoid arthritis, which can make you sick, like a fever, joints, dizzy, ringing in the ears, swollen glands. When it hits, you feel pretty sick. But I'm feeling right on. I'm feeling good today. It's not gonna stop me. It might slow me a hair, till I get it under control.

Q. Now that you're a father, do you wanna do the things you need to do to have a career?

I said all this junk before Johnny was around. I don't want all the blame to be on him – "Oh, Paul's staying home with his little boy." I went out to L.A. two weeks ago and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed being away. And I actually got a little rest. I missed him and I couldn't wait to get home, but hell, I could bring him along. It's not the end of the world. That wouldn't prevent me from playing music if I felt the need to do it. But I think everything works out the way it's supposed to. I'm glad to be home right now when he's like 8 months old. It's a good time. He's just starting to try and walk and stuff, and it's great.

Q. What's the core of the new album to you? Did you carve it down from a large body of songs?

There's about four real songs that didn't go on it, and some other sketches. One guy called it a mid-life crisis. I already feel like I've been through that a long time ago. Maybe it's that horrid disease of the end of the century. When I was making this thing, I didn't feel like I was making a record. But when it was getting close to done, I felt like if I don't ever make another one, I'm satisfied with this one. That's a scary way to think, but from now on, it's upped the ante for me. If I'm going to record another record, it's gonna have to be as good as this, or I'm not even gonna bother.

Q. When you say "as good as," I assume you could make a more upbeat album. The goodness in this just seems to be the straight-from-the-soul part of it.

Yeah!

Q. Is that what you mean?

I mean … what the hell do I mean? I mean that in 10 years, you're gonna listen back to this record and it's not gonna sound like 1999. It doesn't sound like 1999. I think it's the first time I've hit on something that might be close to timeless. There isn't earmarks of the era on it. Actually, a few of the songs you mentioned are closer to that. And something like "Self Defense," that could have been recorded in the early '60s. It doesn't have a time. In a way, that's the way I feel about me and my career. I don't have a time. I don't know if I fit here. It's a guy who doesn't belong, and it's … I don't know, man. It's a blue cover. It's my third blue cover in a row. What can I say? The final in a trilogy (laughs).

Q. "Sunrise Always Listens:" Tell me about that song. It sounds like that moment when you get in touch with yourself, when you're sitting quiet and you know things. The theme that runs through the album for me is clarity. A lot of these songs strip away distraction and give a real clear-eyed look at things.

Mmm hmm. Um…

Q. Did I have a question in there?

I'm certain you did. It's whether I can elaborate something that looks like an answer. The best songs are … the very first words I say out of my mouth is the blunt and brutal truth. And that one ("Sunrise Always Listens") is. And I think every damn one of these are. It's not like it was written as a song. You hear me playing the chords over and over maybe for a day, with no words, and then the first words that come out. "Talking to myself" or whatever. That's exactly what I was doing – talking to myself and going "arrgghh." It's a guy losing his brain and immediately feeling that OK, what I've got to do is work now, work my way through this, so I'll create a song out of it.

Q. Anything messed up every time you do interviews?

It's not my place to explain or anything. But as soon as I hear the words "this is mellow and this is mature" it's like - my ass it is! Mellow in comparison to Marilyn Manson or somebody? That's chicken! That's chicken music! It's like, hide behind a persona and volume and everything. This is so naked – look, there's nowhere to hide. You can't sort of hip some people to this stuff. They're not gonna be able to get it. So I've limited myself there.

Q. Do you worry about making it too naked? You've obscured yourself in the past. Clearly this time there was no obscuring.

I'm gonna say what I have to say. If it destroys my life, I don't care because if I keep it inside it'll destroy me anyway. I feel like it's now my obligation to let it out.

Q. Tell me about Shawn Colvin on "Born For Me." Is she someone you knew before, was that one of those long-distance things, or how did it happen?

She's from South Dakota originally. She could smell the Replacements from where she was so she sorta knew about me. We met once in England in front of a hotel. I guess she's been kind of a fan and Don knew her and brought her in. She was available, she was great. She came in and sang it once – for free. Didn't charge me! A Grammy winner! She's great.

Q. Do you see any of the sites devoted to you on the Internet? Are you even on the Internet?

No, I'm not, not at all. I'm aware that there's stuff out there. But I even if I was (on the Internet), I don't wanna look at it. I don't read the reviews and stuff. I've read 'em before. I don't wanna know anymore what people think. It's not my place. People are talking to each other about me; I don’t wanna eavesdrop. It's weird.

Q. What haven't we hit on?

I think nothing. I'll let you go.

Q. I'll stay here all day if you're up for it.

Shit, I don’t mind.

Q. Now I'm asking questions just for me. I've never been able to figure out the bridge of "World Class Fad."

I have no idea what it is. I'm almost tempted to reach in my drawer and put the thing on. I haven't heard that song… (sings) "want it that bad, world class fad … higher and higher…" It might have been just bullshit. That was kind of an immediate-take vocal, where I may have just said one line then tried to rhyme it and didn't have a word.

Q. I know for years people couldn't figure out the "Liberty is a lie" line from "Unsatisfied," but "World Class Fad" is the one that's been driving me out of my mind.

OK, you're in for it now. If I've got the thing here I'm gonna put it on and we can talk for two minutes till it gets to the bridge.

Q. OK. Do you hesitate including lyrics? In "Self Defense" I thought the line went "you only run fast when you're chaste", but then it was printed as "chased."

Yep. Both make sense to me.

Q. Was that the purpose?

Yeah. Absolutely. I haven't seen it but I'm sure they spelled it like "chased."

Q. I thought I was completely wrong.

Double entendres – I don't go shopping for them, but occasionally when you're in the mode or the groove, one will happen.

Q. Reading the lyrics killed that one for me. I thought oops, I was wrong, moved on, didn't think about it anymore.

No, you were right sir. Someone told me that in Canada they'd printed on the back of the jacket "Burn For Me." It is "Born For Me" you've got, right? They were asking about "Burn For Me." Suddenly it was like Blue Oyster Cult.

Q. We there yet on "World Class Fad?"

We gotta go through one more chorus. Ask a question.

Q. Do you need a record company at this point? You've got a studio in your house. What was recorded there is as good as anywhere else…

Wait, it's the bridge now – "the pressure's gonna build in … higher and higher, oh no … something's gotta move here? … (laughs) … you're knocking on wood … you find some ago" (laughs). There you go, baby!

Q. It's cleared up now. Now I can sleep.

Yeah. Sheesh. Cripes.

Q. Do you need a record company?

They need me.

Q. They do. But with today's technology and your home studio, do you really need them?

Sure I do. I don't have any business skills. Did Picasso need somebody to get his work to the people? I'd just pile up the tunes in my room and nobody would hear them till I was dead.

Q. But there's ways to get 'em out these days without the standard "you get 11 (percentage) points, they get 89" thing.

Yeah. Well, you know, if I was just starting out – well, hell, I was on a little label for six years. You know, somebody offers you money, you take it. After 12 years on a major label it's kinda hard to say "Well, I'm just gonna go home." The way I figure it, one day there'll be a time perhaps when I won't need one. I've gotten used to it. It's how I work. I don't find it a hindrance.

Q. What did you make of the set that Sire put out with the unreleased stuff? I'm a big fan of the "Picasso's sketchbook" theory. I wanna hear the songs from inception to the final product.

I helped work on the Sire/Reprise one, just kind of as a "thank you" for letting me go, an "I'll help you out" kind of deal. I was truly please at like listening to "Beer For Breakfast" and listening to Chris and Tommy sorta talking before the song and remixing it. It refreshed my memory as to how feisty a little rock band we were. It was obvious why the outtakes didn't go on in my mind. The vocals are flatter than a doornail. It's kind of a cringer for me. But I don't have any more desire to work on that older stuff. The further back you go, the more chaotic the performances get. Believe me, there's no gems that didn't make it on. I know you're someone who's interested and you wanna hear everything. But you don't keep great songs off because they're great. You do it because there's something terribly wrong with them.

Q. Is the Twin Tone thing gonna happen? Do you have any say in that?

I probably do have say in it. I don't know what my legal rights are at this point. The contract was sold, the masters were sold, I don't even know who owns 'em anymore or what. Jeez, I never did understand that you need to be a lawyer to understand it. Can you blame us for going in there with 10 cocktails in us, trying to steal the tapes and throw them away? We didn't know what to do. We didn't wanna get screwed. We wanted to help ourselves.

Q. Did those really, truly get destroyed?

Yeah.

Q. Gone, unsalvageable, they weren't pulled out and stuck away, can be baked or anything?

Threw them IN the river.

Q. No one went in the river after them?

No. Nobody knew where they were except for the four of us. And we didn't get what we wanted. I think we ended up throwing out some outtakes and the acoustic version of "Can't Hardly Wait."

Q. Would you do a full unplugged? Hearing "Love Untold" unplugged made it a little more personal.

You could, but I like drums. If I'm performing music that isn't rock 'n' roll … I have to talk myself into this. I never wanted to do this. I never woke up and wanted to be a sensitive guy writing little acoustic songs. My love and passion was rock 'n' roll. There was that sense inside of me, and "my art" kinda brought that out. But I don't know if it interests me too much. The playing of the music was my fun; if they loved me or applauded, it was like "I don't care."

Q. But isn't the courage and the growth in … I mean, I saw the Stones the other night and they did a show just like the ones they tried to do when they were 25. It was great fun, but it was kinda sad.

Well, yeah, we could talk about all that. I could see why though. He never traded … he did it for fame and for sex and then he became an astute businessman and he still does it for fame, sex and business. That never changed, as long as he could get it up and add the numbers.

Q. But you don't need the cash flow at that point. I could see someone in another position wanting to do that….

But it becomes addictive. Does Trump need any more dough? It's making the money. It's not the having it or spending it.

Q. You mentioned earlier that "Sorry Ma" sounds bare, raw and immediate, like this album; when do you feel you last followed your instincts that closely? You seem to think there was some artistic compromise on "Eventually," which I disagree with.

No, no, they brainwashed me on that. I just … I guess "Eventually" was me writing songs and putting myself in them. This record isn't so much me writing songs as me absolutely having no clue what to do with my life, then sitting at the piano for days and then opening my mouth. And that's kind of the difference. I wasn't thinking "This is my new record." I didn't have a label. I didn't know what it was. It was almost like a diary.

Q. That situation where you don't know what you wanna do – it sounds like a nightmare, but so liberating.

Yeah, the lower you go and scoop yourself up, you kinda rebound back. I would not be surprised if I ended up going higher than ever, kind of a boomerang effect or something.

Q. Back in the old days, did alcohol play a role in being able to take you down to that level? When I used to drink more than I do now, it sorta served as a manic-depressive thing; you could get manic with it, you could get depressed with it. Was it an artificial way for you to do that?

It would, but it would prevent me from actually doing anything with it. It would make me just think about it and not even write it down. The difference now is when you get down there, you don't sober up tomorrow. You're still there. The next day it's still there. And it's "All right, I've got to shake this" somehow, even if it's just write it on paper and stick it in the drawer.

Q. You mentioned four leftover songs? Something for b-sides?

One in particular, "Cheyenne," is one of my faves that I wanted to be on the record. Then there's "Pleasure of Your Company," "33rd of July", and, of course, "Wonderful Copenhagen."

Q. Were they just wildly different from the theme of the album?

Yyyyyeah, two of them were sorta fun-loving, one was incomplete. Lyrically, I wasn't really there. I sorta went with a riff and wrote a song that probably would have fit on my other records more. On this one, each song lyrically had to hold up to the previous one. These kinda didn't.

Q. Is that what Grandpa Boy was? A place for the extras? You mentioned last time a song "Come On Little Bitch" that didn't make "Eventually."

Grandpa Boy came right in the middle of making this. It was literally for the first month of 11 years, I was out of my contract and free and clear to do whatever I wanted. So I like "whoopee!" and banged out a little record. But the other part of it was a song called "Lush and Green" that would have made it on the record. I knew that by the time I signed a deal and went through all of it it'd be a couple years before it came out, so I kinda like slipped one out for the fans. OK, here's a song. That's the one that would have been on this record. That was my little way of releasing a single two years early and not telling anyone.

Q. Kinda like Stain Yer Blood?

Yeah, kinda.