August 3, 1999
Robyn Hitchcock Interview
by Alan Jacobsen
...try to get everything right. Which is good, 'cause, nothing's wrong with getting things right. It's tough to avoid making a sterile bootleg. But a show should have something else, and then um, and it's good if somebody want, uh...have a record or a document. I, personally don’t bother to keep track of it.
Would you mind if I taped your in-store performance tomorrow?
No, no, go ahead.
Oh, great. I appreciate that. All right, should we go, then? This is so amazing. Okay. Um, tell me about your collaborators. Uh, do they approach you, or do they, do you approach them? I just notice the--
You mean the people that play on the record?
Yeah, the people that play on your record. Like Tim Keegan, uh, Grant-Lee Phillips, the Young Fresh Fellows' ex-members, Deni Bonet, etc..
Oh yeah, no, no. They're all people that I get to know. And uh, then I, sort of, find out where they are. It’s usually a combination of people and cities. If it's a city I'm passing through and there's people I like there, then I'll set up a session. That's basically how it works. I don't, sort of, go through a city where I don't know anybody and hope something happens. I mean, even where the Fellows were, Tim was coming with me, Peter was going to be around. So, uh, it sort of works out like that. So it's a matter of having the right songs, and knowing the people who are in the cities, and hooking up with them.
I notice on your new album, Kimberley Rew plays guitar. And I was wondering how that came about. Whether there’s any kind of forseeable future...with minor variations, Rew plus The Egyptians would sort of equal The Soft Boys, wouldn't it?
Yeah, it would. No, there’s no plans to do that.
Okay.
I think the Egyptians...that lasted a very long time, and that's stopped now. But I might get Kimberley out with some people. He's up for it. I’ve just seen more of him the last few years. Turns up...y'know, if I'm playing Cambridge, he'll come along and play. Turns up on other occasions. I wanted to get other people in to play guitar as well as me on this record. The idea was to have lots of different bands, different...have my guitar in one channel, and somebody else's in the other. So the guest soloist is Tim, or Kimberley, or Peter (or whatever it is), y’know? And I think as long as you're not actually chained to them, it's fun having people. It's just, it gets oppressive when you're in it for a long period. They've all got their own acts going. Kimberley's making his own album, actually. He's done several different versions of it. And hopefully it'll come out sooner or later. So, it's good. I just...I’ve been around long enough to have a lot of friends who are good players, who I can get hold of in different cities.
How do you feel about "Walking On Sunshine"?
I always liked it as a song. It's good, 'cause it, sort of, kept Kimberley going through the ups and downs of Katrina And The Waves.
Uh huh.
Y’know, it's funny that that particular song of all his songs became his big hit. That big hit. I thought "Going Down To Liverpool" was that strong. And there's all sorts of odd songs he's got -- going back years -- which have been good. And there's some new ones he's got. But he’s quite shy. And they needed Katrina to be a front person. Kimberley wouldn't wanna go out and run his own show. Which is a shame, 'cause I think he's got a lot of character in his voice. But he's happier just playing. Kimberley would...y’know, if you said, "We're gonna do a gig on an ice floe somewhere in the Antarctic, sort of, playing only to an audience of buzzards and penguins, and you'll have to play nude during a blizzard," he'd be happy. He's persistent. He's...we're both persistent, in different ways. I think I need more comfort than him. I'm sort of, lazier, if you like.
You sometimes write songs with others in mind: "Ballon Man", for Susanna Hoffs; "All I Wanna Do Is Fall In Love", for Roger McGuinn. How 'bout this album? Why do you do this? Is it because they inspire you? A, sort of song "thank you"? Or, are they subject matter? Like, I know that cartoonist Gary Larson gets inspired by people around him to make different cartoons, and that kind of thing.
Yeah, I...no. I mean, there are many songs I write which are based on characters I know. Whom I love, or whom I don’t love. But that's more a style thing, y’know? I could see this song...especially, y’know, you grow with certain influences. And you can feel, this has got a Byrds-time feel to it. The only one I wrote with McGuinn in mind, actually, was "Arms Of Love", which I always felt would've been a good song for him to do. I think I originally called it the "Arms Of God", and then I changed it. It would’ve been too mawkish, 'cause McGuinn’s quite a severe Christian, "Arms Of God"... I thought that was a good. I mean, R.E.M. did it. So I wasn't that far afield.
To use a hackneyed phrase: you are a cult icon. I hate to say it. I know it probably leaves a bad taste in your mouth. But you have a small-but-very-devout following. And I was wondering how you survived all of these years in, sort of, relative obscurity? To what do you owe your longevity? I find it really amazing.
Well you probably answered your own question, in a way. Y’know, there are a small-but-intense bunch of people who seem to like what I do. And they keep me going. Sometimes the audience expands or contracts, according to if there's something on the radio, or whatever. Or the popularity of a particular album. I think it's the difference between a laser beam and a floodlight, or something, y’know? My stuff has got a narrow, intense beam that only hits on small...covers a small area. But, those who get it really do get it. And it's not some, sort of, diffused thing that everybody can, sort of, buy, to put on while buying clothes, or driving. It's music to...you have to listen to it. That's the point. If you don't, it's kind of annoying. It's like hearing a baby crying in the background, or something. My records aren’t really there just...I’m not trying to sound ugly, or discordant at all, but my records aren't really pleasant. Y’know, it’s not Popular music. In some level or other, even if it's...y’know Rap Metal is meant to sound pleasant. You can bung it on, and you'll get some sort of buzz out of the bass grooves, or the horrible volume, or something. "Yeah! That's nice! I'll open a beer." My stuff is...you have to sit down with it, alone. It's very much headphone music. Y’know, it's music to listen to. And so maybe not that many people these days have patience to sit down and get familiar with the record, or a...y'know, my stuff is designed to be intimate. I guess that's the best way of answering your question.
My Robyn Hitchcock albums definitely have the longest shelf-life, as far as Popular music goes. Sort of, along the same line: do you have any of advice for, sort of, the young songwriter who might be in your position. Among your gifts, you possess a sharp wit. Has a sense of humour helped you to stay around and continue doing what you’re doing?
Well, yeah. Humour...you always need humour, because you cross the dateline from despair into humour. Things get so bad they become funny. That's always true in life. And I don't think anybody really like humourless people. But again, it helps if you've got the same sense of humour. It's a matter of taste, y’know? Like, some people like butter. Some people will drink milk, even into adulthood. Some people like listening to Tom Waits. It answers a biological need in people. And so in a way, you've gotta find people who will respond to your stuff. You have to send out some, sort of, pollen. Or some pheremone. Some kind of current in the air, that other people will sniff, or, "[sniffing] Yeah, I like it!" I think as regards humour and music, it's very dangerous to mix...I've found a lot of people have maybe thought I was some kind of stupid joke, at points. But then, I've thought I was, myself. A lot of it's very poker-faced. The, sort of, need for people to be heroes, and that. I could never really take that very seriously. But, y’know, to me, all the greats could do...y'know, Dylan and Lennon had a terrific sense of humour. They could be comedians if they wanted. Or, Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby. They were probably unlovely people, but they could do comedy if they wanted to. Beck could be very funny. As an artist, you should be able to cover the spectrum. You should be able to make people laugh, and make people cry. Maybe also to be a successful Rock artist, you'd better make people dance -- and I’ve never mastered that one.
When is your book coming out? What's in it? Are there paintings? Stories? Poems?
No, it's a novel, which I've done the first draft of, and I have to do another version of it next year. But I think I've got some people who would put it out. So maybe next year, year af...proably not 'til the year after. It depends how busy I am. I do it in down-time, and I've been very busy for some reason, the last couple of years. I seem to go all over the place. So, I'll finish it, and then it'll be out. But it's a novel, it's not a collection of things.
Any plans for a collection...of maybe the stories you have in your CDs, or...that kind of thing? Like a compilation?
I can't see the point, because they’re all in the CDs. Everybody who wants 'em can read 'em anyway. It's amazing how eager people seem to be to want to buy the same thing again, y’know? So I figure they're all there on the CDs and people can read them. That's what they were: they were written to go with that. Some people want me to do a book of lyrics, with illustrations, or something. And one day I will. But I'm not even sure the lyrics stand up that well on their own. There's some lyrics that...they’re not poems. I mean, some of my lyrics are good, and they’re quite free-ranging. They’re...I don’t know how much you'd wanna be... Eventually, but maybe that'll be a project for after I've stopped. One of those rainy-days-in-eternity things.
[laughs] I just heard your version of Skip Spence's "Broken Heart". What makes you wanna cover a song? Are you approached? Do people approach you, or...
That was a project Bill Bentley at Slash had. He was a friend of Skip Spence's. As you probably know, Skip Spence died...either just before, or just after his birthday this year. And, exactly the same time as the record came out. It's odd. But I...that was just...people suggested it, and, y’know, gave me the tape. That seemed a good one to do.
What makes you wanna cover a song?
You mean to record it? Or sing it?
Yeah.
Well, I think if you like it, is the answer, really.
Okay.
I wouldn’t wanna sing a song I didn’t like...
Yeah.
...unless I was in a very perverse mood.
I'm gonna draw a parallel from film to what I think that you may do. The late-'60s and early-'70s are seen by many people as the best Hollywood has ever done. And they see it as just having gotten worse from there. You had Nichols, and Altman, and others breaking conventions and making deep, meaningful films like One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, and MASH. Now we have thinly-veiled remakes of some of those films. Sort of, mockeries minus all the meaning. And you seem to particularly like, sort of, the '60s' and '70s' psychedelic Rock -- like Syd Barrett, Captain Beefheart, Velvet Underground, and Skip Spence. You also seem to like Elvis: sort of, Rock, back when it was unadulterated. So when it was more of in a pure kind of...maybe even a proto- kind of state. Am I right on this, or am I even being clear?
Well it's slightly different. I know what you're talking about. But, see, that's the stuff I grew up with. It's not like penchant for stuff...I grew up...I hit adolescence in 1967, when all those great records came out. Some of them were Pop records...hit records, like Are You Experienced?, or Revolver, and Piper At The Gates Of Dawn. And others were less known, like Beefheart, and the Velvets. But they were still sort of cool. And, as a teenager with all my pores wide open, I just absorbed that stuff completely. And that really was my template for life. There was nothing else I was gonna do but...that's my nutrients. I mean, I've listened to...I've had Elvis...I had Bill Haley when I was about two. My parents used to put Rock 'n' Roll records on to calm me down, apparently, when I was getting tired at, sort of, five in the afternoon...they’d put a bit of Rock 'n' Roll on. And bizarrely enough, it calmed me down. And I listened to Folk music as well. So that stuff is my roots. Pretty much non-dance-y, I suppose mainly white, kind of, melody-based. And you can see, I've carried on very faithfully (hopefully) bringing my own personality into that. But that's what I come from. And with movies, you're talking about a time when it...the time starting from the satire boom, with Peter Cook, and stuff and culminating in Monty Python (in Britain). And in the States, the Vietnam-era, basically: the time of questioning authority. Questioning the way things had been set up. Which was just the zeitgeist. There's no other word for it -- between '62 and '72. And then everything, kind of, just lost momentum, and it went the other way. And you wound up with the Jefferson Starship doing U.S. Navy commercials. The same people who’d gone, "Up against the wall, motherfuckers," and stuff. And Rolling Stone would carry big adverts for the military, and all the kind. And it's...everything...I think, y’know, maybe the whole thing is just down to: Capitalism. This whole thing was fueled by money. Um, some record executive went to Haight-Ashbury in 1967 -- his eyes, sort of, pinwheeled --and thought, "Wow!" Y'know, "Sign everything." They were out there signing letterboxes, and dogs -- and occasionally bands. And the whole thing was, "Let’s buy this!" And, the Hollywood movies you spoke of were funded by big business. Big business was in there, and maybe that's what's inevitably diluted things. Now you have a situation where the corporations want the quickest yield for the shortest outlay. "Let's make as much as we can as fast as possible." Which...in a way that was the same with the Monkees, The Monotones, or even The Beatles. It was quick turnover. I think it's mass production, maybe. It's resulted inevitably, I think, in a loss of quality. Things are produced which aren't designed to challenge. There's always a superficial sense of revolution, y’know? Whatever the current thing'll be. If they’re not letting you smoke on planes, and in buildings anymore, all the young kids are wandering around, piercing their bodies, smoking cigarettes, and taking heroin. Because everyone else has gone so straight. But I can’t help feeling that it's, sort of, money -- or the, kind of, viral element of economics. The way Capitalism. There doesn't seem to be...although it comes...money generated by people. It wasn't there before we came along. But it seems to be outside of our control, quite how this stuff happens. And I'm beginning to think that Capitalism is killing music. I don’t advocate, y’know, Stalinism, or the Eastern Bloc, and things. (Although they had some great things, like, free health care.) There always seems to be some kind of tradeoff. There's always a downside. But I think that's what's happened (to sort of ramble on about your question). And I think that’s why. And it's not...you can't make a lot of money now by really challenging things. There are...and maybe when people challenged things back in the Sixties, it was just a hedonistic, superficial thing anyway. They just wanted as much pleasure as possible. What's so righteous about that? The civil rights movement was largely dissipated by people discovering dope. Dylan started looking inwards and lost his grip on the outside world. Or maybe realised that he couldn't do anything about it. I don't know. And it all, sort of...the roots of the...becoming passive about everything, politically...go back a long way.
Okay. That's...that was a good answer. Definitely very thorough. Very nice, very nice, very nice.
It was actually...yeah. Oh, right, it was actually... You weren't expecting validation from me, were you? No? Okay...then it's Mr. Wapstree, the parrot. That’s the real answer.
All right. You're gonna disappoint people by being so down-to-earth and eloquent about that answer that people you were mentioning before...
I have a comment about that. You said you think there's been a change from record executives that came thinking they knew what kids wanted to hear was previous to the 1970s.
Well, yeah, but, I think it probably went back earlier than that. It went back, because there's always the stuff...because of mass production, it, with a few odd exceptions -- like the early punk era, when it really was people knocking out seven-inch singles...small labels and things like that. It's always required the big bucks to get this stuff out to people. I mean, record executives were there...they may have not wanted to sign the Beatles. And there was that classic thing about, the Beatles had got really big in England, and someone at Capitol said, "They won’t do anything in this market." And then they proved they did. But Cap...the execs carried the whole thing on, and they’re still selling those records. It's murky. I think it's...I can see what Zappa meant. But I think it was a constant thing. I don't think it was just in the seventies, or just '67. I think it's constantly...as long as you rely on mass production to get stuff out to people, you're gonna rely on those who run the means of production, to determine how it gets out. That's why you've always got the, sort of, Indie-underground, which will remain hip. That whole thing...the George Melly's term, "revolt into style". Or fashion. It comes up from the streets, and it gets to the catwalks, and it sells to the, sort of, chains stores, and then...the, sort of, frumpy chain stores in the streets. And it, sort of, winds up on homeless people. So it, sort of, begins and ends as a, sort of, cycle, really.
Melies died alone and poor, after selling toys to kids on a riverbank, or something like that, didn't he?
George Melly? No, he's alive. I saw him on a tube-train about a month ago.
Oh, okay. We're thinking of different Mel...I'm thinking of the French filmmaker. Uh, sorry. I still have my head stuck in my films. Let's see...you were speaking about the importance of...I guess sort of cursorily of...an indie-Rock scene. And, what I come from is that, we really push the indie Rock, and your album was put in heavy rotation (thanks to me, not to pat myself on the back, but...). And I was wondering (this is for a pledge drive that my station is doing) if you could tell me why you think college radio is so important to musicians, or the masses, or anyone in particular?
Well it's important to the musicians 'cause it's the only place they're gonna get played. It still doesn’t require a motherload of promotion to get stuff onto college radio. But having said that, how many things on your playlist are from major labels, y"know? What proportion?
Very small. Very very small.
Jeez. Are you playing me? I'm on Warners.
Thank you, Robyn Hitchcock. I was looking at your career as a whole. It seems to sort of go in (for lack of a better term) phases. Kind of like David Bowie, you move from one thing to the next (minus the skull-kissing, and that kind of stuff...and the spaceman costumes). You went from starting out (correct me if I’m wrong) as, sort of, a Folk singer -- very Dylan-inspired, that kind of thing -- to...you went on to The Soft Boys -- which is (my term again) a, sort of, Psychedelic Punk Rock...sort of -- to The Egyptians -- which, in my mind (especially with Element Of Light, Fegmania!, Globe Of Frogs) was Pop perfection -- and seemingly back to Folk. Am I right in this conception of your career? And I was wondering why you're back into all the acoustic stuff now? Especially with the equivalent of a couple of -- at least a couple of -- great bands at your disposal. Maybe that's the wrong way to put it, but, what do you say?
Well, because I think my stuff...I can now perform on my own, with my own material. And I can put on a good show for a half-an-hour, or an hour, or an hour-and-a-half, whatever you want. I couldn't do that when I started out. I would've liked to, but my material was crap. It was 'til I got with the other Soft Boys. And then the early songs there weren't such great songs, but they were very good arrangements. We stimulated each other in terms of arranging, and so we developed these very intricate things. And then that, sort of, fell apart, but I got a bit stronger as a songwriter. The Soft Boys got a bit more straight-ahead. The personnel changed. And I began to emerge as a songwriter, which is what I'd wanted to be. But I think I'd also wanted to see what it was like to be in a Rock band. Y'know, the lure of the electric guitar, and stuff. And then, once you've been doing that...I've been doing that for a while, and...with The Egyptians thing, I, sort of...I just got to the point where...I got to be forty, and it was time to break up the family. As I've said many times, I think it's a...y'know, hunting in packs is for young people. Young guys, especially. Over thirty it's a little bit iffy. But we didn't really hit our stride 'til then, anyway. But over forty, I think it's really suspect. I think you should have to have a licence for having a band. You should have a permit. And over fifty there should be, like, only twelve days a year you're allowed to perform. And certainly that would get rid of The Stones. I just think that's how it really works. And so it's just a combination of that...time, and the fact that I think my material is strong enough for me to carry it. But I may do some stuff with some other musicians in the autumn. And I love playing with other people. But, not not in a band basis. Just, Tim, occasionally. Or Peter Buck, if he's around. Or the Fellows. Kimberley here and there. I’ve got enough musicians that I know, that I can get little vortexes going for a while.
Morris Tepper.
Yeah, Morris Tepper’s on Mossy Liquor and stuff, yeah.
Speaking of music, I guess...I was wondering what you think of the (and this is sort of another question about rehashing, maybe watering down, maybe even sort of a mockery, as some people say)...what do you think of the new quote-unquote "Britpop" scene? Like the Oasis, and all that other kind of stuff?
It's not that new. What it is is it's a tradition which reoccurs every so often. And it's good...it harks back to the same stuff I was listening to. I really like a lot of Oasis. But, partly just 'cause of the drive they have. Or had. There's a real...it's a mighty sound, Oasis. Blur are okay, but I've always found them a bit downbeat. The Oasis lot sneer, but it's just very full-on, and...but I really...especially the second album, I really enjoyed. But, I dunno. They’re all...that’s going on...the main innovations, as always, come from black culture? And stuff has got increasingly rhythm-based, in all the Rap stuff. And that's not really part of what I do. I guess I'm just so arrythmic that I can't be bothered to go home and get a bunch of beats and a turntable and stuff. And I probably should, but I’m based around...I guess I'm concerned with words and melody, and not...also I think that a certain...a song, if it's strong enough, can carry itself without harmonies -- or without backing. That, in the end, maybe...I suppose I got into the business because of listening to Bob Dylan, and I wanted...that's what I would've liked to have been. But I was obviously...y'know, he was a Jewish kid from Minnesota with curly hair, and I was a tall goyisha bloke from the home counties with flat hair. And I tried perming it, but it kept falling out, and the perm would go. And I got into Syd Barrett, who I...I think he had a perm as well, but he was more like a British...Syd was the British Dylan, really. That helped me steer it...bring it all back home. And that, sort of, personal intensity...it's something where there's a real personality involved. And I guess that's what I like. If you listen to Elvis, or Sinatra, or The Beatles, or Oasis, or someone...you never really know there's a person there, rather than just a sound. And I guess that's what it's about. But I wouldn't rubbish Britpop at all. They're just people who...unlike me, they didn't grow up with all that stuff. But they discovered it. And they put a different spin on it. And so...y'know, fairplay to them. It's great.
Great! Great. I started to get back to the beaten path. The change in your music also, hat I've noticed in subject matter, in your songs. Sort of, the "Insect Mother" has turned into "So You Think You're In Love", has turned into "I Feel Beautiful". Along with more straight-forward (I guess is a way of putting it) subject matter. How am I doing on this? Can you explain?
No. I think that all songs have to be based around some idea of what they're about. If it's just an image...I usually start from just a title. So, all those songs would've started from a title. And I'd have an image of the Insect Mother, or I'd have the line, "So you think you’re in love". Or, "I feel beautiful". I think all of 'em, I wrote the title down, and then thought, "Okay, let’s go." I think, regardless of what you might call "the imagery", the important thing is that there's emotion involved in it. [to Lou Barlowe] Oh, come on in, Lou! It's just verbals. Yeah, yeah...it's just...it's a matter of the...I think the main thing with music is the emotion. And again, over the years, I've realised that...I probably got into writing lyrics more than understanding music. I have no clue of how music works. And I'm much more interested in the melody and the emotional feel. It's almost like physics: certain notes resonate against other notes and produce a feeling. If you sing an F over a C-chord, or an F-Sharp over and E-chord or something, you get a certain feel out of that. And that's how it works. I've got no musical education, technically. But that's what I'm interested in: is just how you can make people feel. And I think there's a difference...there's a gap between expression and communication. Maybe I'm more concerned with communicating now. In the past it was about expression. But in the end it has to come from...you don't know what it is, really. You're just trying to ride it, control it. But you're not its master. I'm not the master of this stuff. I'm just the, sort of...I bring it out into the light, and then do what I can. But it's really got a life of its own.
By the way, I had somebody ask me to ask this. He was kind of a clown, but...I was wondering: what did you think of the new shot-by-shot remake of Hitchcock's Psycho?
I didn't see it. Have you seen it?
No. I heard it was horrible, though.
I can't see the point.
Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly what I thought. He adds a masturbation scene, that's it. The actor, he, he...
Oh, they put that in?
Yeah, he’s looking through the peephole, and he was inspired to start...
Oh, you see...
...whatever.
I mean, that's all implied in the original.
Yeah.
I think it adds fuel to your theory that Hollywood sucks. Which it does, on the whole. But you'll get the odd good film.
Yeah.
That’s why it's so dangerous to wave the independent flag, and say, "Bastard corporations! Bastard big business! They don't understand nothin'." You never know...some things get through the net. And life under Capitalism means that things have to...in a way, have to pay for themselves, rather than being sponsored. I dunno. I mean, so much of it is junk. And probably always has been. I think the main thing is to get on with the good stuff, rather than worrying too much about the bad stuff.
That's great. That's a good, um, philosophy.
Henry Ford? You talking about Henry Ford? Oh no, I haven't even seen it. Do you want some Beam, some Jim Beam? And now! Jason Lowenstein, from Sebadoh! Bastard! He’s gone. And now he's back!
To use more film language: that was a cameo.
Oh, look: have some stickers. You're supposed to be putting those up. Have a sticker.
Thank you! Thank you.
Ah yeah, we're deep into promotion.
It's called "generosity", right?
It appears to. But there's always an agenda. There you are...suddenly my sales in Denver will quadruple, you see?
I love your new album. (Not to sound sycophantic, but...) This may sound like a bitchy...
Oh, good answer, yeah. Good statement, rather.
...This may sound like a bitchy question. (In fact, it probably is kind of a bitchy question.) But, do you feel like you have to produce your CDs for Warner Brothers, the record company, and your records for your fans? Like you have more creative control with he vinyl, sort of, output.
No. Not at all. No, the people that...when you hear the outtakes record, there's lots of things on there that the Warner people wanted to have on the main album. I mean, I just happen to be on Warners 'cause I have some friends there. It's not...the company itself isn't really that concerned about what I do. And, I may not be on there this time next year. By the time it's due for me to put out another record -- which won't be for another two or three years -- who knows what shape records will take? Maybe it'll all be something that comes out of a ventilator on the wall. Warners has been, actually, pretty good in terms of what I've been able to put out. I've basically -- because of the people who were championing me there -- been able to put out what I want. And the outtakes, the Mossy Liquor stuff: all that was my decision. But, as usually happens, the hard-core fans prefer the outtakes. So, I’m putting it...Warners actually let me put the outtakes out myself in exchange for an override. It's less hassle for them. They don't want to have to press up a small quantity of records. So I'll be putting the outtakes out. The companion volume to Jewels For Sophia will be out, I hope, in November.
That's wonderful. Just in time for Christmas, for everyone out there. Um, let's see...did I have anything else? This is kind of a weird way to end an interview. I don’t really have any closure.
That's fantastic. I mean, you've just run out of things. It's not like you've got anything, sort of, gigantic. If you're done, then that's fine. Then we should wrap up as well.
Okay, great. Would it be okay if we add some station IDs? It's called KVCU, Boulder. Like maybe, "Hi, I'm Robyn Hitchcock." Yeah, you can do like maybe, "Radio 1190, KUVC, Boulder." The "KVCU, Boulder"'s the legal part. The "Radio 1190" is sort of...1190 AM, it's like the tagline kind of thing, so...take one?
Ahhh, okay. 1190 AM? Okay, this is take one, 1190 AM: I'm Robyn Hitchcock, Boulder, Colorado. I'm not here, but you are. And what's the other one? K...
KVCU, Boulder.
Ah! KVCU, Boulder! Just stand back and...inhale it! Mmmmm, don't it smell good? The air is thin, but, boy, it's rich! (This was Robyn Hitchcock, telling you that.) Is that okay?
It was excellent! Thank you very much.
Thank you.
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