LOS ANGELES FREE PRESS
by John Carpenter - Summer 1968
John Carpenter was the music editor of the Los Angeles Free Press,
a weekly “underground” paper distributed throughout Southern
California. Like Jim, he was a big drinker, and this interview
stretched over the course of a day, starting with a breakfast which
included Bloody Marys, and ending in the Phone Booth, Jim's
favorite topless bar. John took the transcript of the tape to Jim
for approval. Jim added some clarification, and Pamela took a blue
pencil to it, slashing out hundreds of paragraphs in which she felt
Jim made an ass of himself. Jim's robust delight in life clearly
comes through in the portions of the interview which survived her
editing.
JC: How did the cover on Strange Days come about?
JM: I hated that cover on the first album. So I said, “I don't want
to be on this cover. Where is that? Put a chick on it or something.
Let's have a dandelion or a design.” The title, Strange Days came
and everybody said yeah, 'cause that was where we were, what was
happening. It was so right.
Originally, I wanted us in a room surrounded by about 30 dogs, but
that was impossible 'cause we couldn't get the dogs and everybody
was saying, “What do you want dogs for?” And I said that it was
symbolic that it spelled God backwards. (Laughs) Finally we ended
up leaving it up to the art director and the photographer. We
wanted some real freaks though, and he came out with a typical
sideshow thing. It looked European. It was better than having our
fucking faces on it, though.
JC: What place do albums have as art forms to you?
JM: I believe they've replaced books. Really. Books and movies.
They're better than movies, 'cause a movie you see once or twice,
then later on television maybe. But a fucking album man, it's more
influential than any art form going. Everybody digs them. They've
got about 40 of them in their houses and some of them you listen to
50 times, like the Stones' albums or Dylan's.
You don't listen to the Beatles much anymore, but there are certain
albums that just go on and on. You measure your progress mentally
by your records, like when you were really young what you had then,
Harry Belafonte, you know, Calypso, Fats Domino, Elvis
Presley.
JC: You guys are only working weekends now, aren't you?
JM: No, not really. I think we work a lot. More than most people
think. Like after the (Hollywood) Bowl we go to Texas, then
Vancouver, Seattle, then jump to the East Coast, Montreal and blah,
blah, blah. Take three weeks off in August for the film, then we go
to Europe. Man, we work an awful lot!
JC: Do you still read a lot?
JM: No, not as much as I used to. I'm not as prolific a writer,
either. Like when, a while ago, I was living in this abandoned
office building, sleeping on the roof, you know the tale. (Laughs)
And all of a sudden, I threw away all my notebooks that I'd been
keeping since high school and these songs just kept coming to me.
Something about the moon, I don't remember.
Well, I'd have to make up words as fast as I could in order to hold
on to the melody - you know a lot of people don't know it, but I
write a lot of the melodies too - later, all that would be left
would be the words 'cause I couldn't hold on to them. The words
were left in a sort of vague idea. In those days when I heard a
song, I heard it as an entire performance. Taking place, you know
with the audience, the band and the singer. Everything. It was kind
of like a prediction of the future. It was all there.
JC: How did the ending of The End come about? Is the Whisky a Go-Go
story true?
JM: I used to have this magic formula, like, to break into the
subconscious. I would lay there and say over and over “Fuck the
mother, kill the father. Fuck the mother, kill the father”. You can
really get into your head just repeating that slogan over and over.
Just saying it can be the thing...
That mantra can never become meaningless. It's too basic and can
never become just words, 'cause as long as you're saying it, you
can never be unconscious. That all came from up here.
JC: That really shook the Whisky audience up when you did it. Have
you ever really gotten through to an audience like the first time
you went over and got mobbed and all?
JM: Not like the thing that's in my mind. I think the day that
thing happens it will be all over. The End. Where would you go from
there? If everyone, even for a split second, became one. They could
never come back. No, I don't think it could ever happen, not like
it is in my head.
My audiences. . .They usually get pretty turned on. It's like
saying at first you're the audience and we're up here and you're
down there. Then all of a sudden there you are and you're right
there just like us. . .it's out of sight. When they know "You're
just like us," it breaks down all the barriers and I like that a
lot.
JC: I've heard a lot of talk from friends in England and some of
the groups from there, that a lot of hostility will be aimed your
way when you go over there. You know, as America's super-sex group
and all.
JM: Yeah?. . .hmmm, there's gonna be a bit of hostility, huh?
That's a good prediction, yeah, a prediction of the future. There
is going to be a little bit of hostility and if there isn't, I'm
going to be a little bit disappointed. The more hostility, the
better. (Laughs) Opposition is true friendship, ha!
(Knock on the door. It's the maid)
JM: Come on in, we're splitting anyway.
Maid: I'm ready if you are. (Waits) I'm ready if you are. . .I know
you like a clean bed. (Leaves room to get cleaning
materials.)
JM: I knew this was going to be good, but not that good. Let's
split right after we hear what else she has to say. (Laughs)
MAID: Im ready for you if you're ready for me.
JM: Come here for a little peace and quiet and everyone keeps
pushing me.
MAID: Is that right? (Laughs) Yeah, just keeps on doin' it. Well,
I'm ready or you if you're ready for me. (Hums)
JM: Please, no singing, this is a holiday. I'm on holiday.
(In the elevator)
JC: Where were you living a year ago?
JM: A year ago? At the Tropicana. Yeah, I started that whole scene.
Put it on the map. We used to have lots of fun there. Yeah, it's
boisterous. Them (the band) was there, nice guys.
(In the street on the way to the Doors' office. Sunset to Santa
Monica on foot.)
JM: Man, I really feel good.
JC: You had your album all ready to go and you went back into the
studio to add some things, then I hear you left it alone.
JM: Yeah, we didn't do it. I was going to add some poetry where the
little space is between the cuts. But who wants to listen to some
cat talking? The music is what's happening. That's what they want
to hear. Anybody can talk, but how many cats can play music and
sing?
JC: It seems strange to walk in L.A.
JM: Yeah, doesn't it man! (Bike rider yells, honks, U-turns) Who
was that. It's Babe.
Babe: Where you headed, the office? (Babe goes on ahead on his
bike)
JM: He's a happy cat, you know? He's either a genius or really
dumb, I haven't found out which. He sure knows how to have a good
time. A happy cat.
Oh, there was this chick once, you know, at a concert. She came
back stage and said that there was this person that wanted to meet
me. She said it was her friend and she was deaf and dumb so I went
through the number, you know, drawing pictures, sign language, and
it turns out she was putting me on. (Laughs)
JC: I really dig L.A. in the summer. Winters are a drag, but
summer's pretty nice.
JM: I really dig L.A. Really a lot.
(Topless bar. Babe joins us. Drinks are there.)
JM: (To Babe) Dig you, big drinker.
Babe: (Indicating a dancer) Can you imagine the babies that chick
could have?
JM: That's bad for their tits when they dance topless. Ask any
topless dancer. If they lose them it would be like losing your
head. . .She doesn't work too hard. Just sort of stands there. .
.Bless this house and all that are in it.
(Later)
JM: (Pointing to new dancer) She's too satirical. She doesn't take
anything seriously. I get the feeling that if you spent a lot of
time in a place like this you'd corrupt your soul. Corrode it
completely. But let's hold off that. Can you imagine bringing your
secretary in here? ha!
(If I Were A Carpenter, by the Four Tops on the juke)
JM: If I were a carpenter, and you were a lady, would you marry me
anyway?
Babe: No. No. If you were a good natured prostitute I might, maybe.
Everybody knows that prostitutes make the best wives, Henry Miller
taught us that, right John?
JC: Henry who? (To Morrison) What do you think about what's been
printed about you and the stuff you hear back all the time? Did you
read the Post magazine thing?
JM: Yeah, I read it. You know, I knew she was going to do it that
way. Journalists are people you know, and the chicks. . .she did a
number, man. Yeah, if you don't really come on to them, they feel
neglected, you know? She ended up doing a number. It was written
good, though. You really felt like you were there. It lies a lot of
times. I hear things back all the time that I'm supposed to have
done.
Hey, Babe, you're gonna be a famous person one of these days and
you should learn to hold your tongue. Especially in front of the
press. How'd you like to wake up one day, and you've said something
off the top of your head and have to read about it the next day,
like that's supposed to be where you're at?
The mentality of the writer is like the 'psychology' of the voyeur.
Journalists never seem to speak about themselves like other people
do. They absorb like a sponge and never really discuss their own
psyche. I think that. . .like. . .I think art, which is like
beauty, is the revelation of beauty, beauty is an absolute, you
dig? And I think it's rooted in a disinterested perception of the
real world. Striking an evenness, a balance between object and
receiver, like revealing the world with no connotation at all.
None, no bullshit.
You know when you've done it, and if you haven't, you are still on
the way. But me, if I get something really good, I'm gonna lay it
out, do you dig? But a lot of it gets into that "He was standing
there on the street step with his eyeball exposed." My perspective
when people ask me questions is like I tell them where it's at over
and over and over again. Me, me, me. . .But then, that's only part
of it, part of the thing; not the whole answer.
There's a little more to it than that. Yeah, like I think that
there is a sub-world in which everybody is sleeping. This whole
other world that everybody's trying to forget, but which we
remember, immediately everybody knows it. But people love the game.
The Game. They really dig it and nobody is supposed to admit that
it's a game. They won't. If they did, then they would ruin the
game.
In the middle of the baseball game, like if someone ran out and
said, "It's a game, man, just a fucking game, this is fucked. Are
you kidding me? It's just a fucking game." Well, everybody would
say "Wow, man, get that fucking clown out of here." They'd go home,
eat a big meal, ball their old lady, and then be right there. He
who laughs last, laughs his ass off.
Babe: Can you dig that? Do you know what he's saying? I think
you're serious, I haven't been able to dig it completely yet, but
it's there, I know it's there.
(Later)
JM: It's weird. People in here, after the initial glimpse, just
start going on their own trips, talking, eating, drinking. Do you
know what it is? I bet that was the appeal of the brothel. Like the
atmosphere, a place for conversation.
Man, this is the place I'd really like to work, only instead of
business men, it would be business women, you know, just stopping
by for a little drink before. . .I must say, she is my favorite.
She's out of sight. . .I think it's a mistake to have their breasts
exposed. An error in theatrics. They should be wearing some thin
negligee. Mystery. . .
Babe: That's what turns me off to some of the hippie chicks. I
guess I'm old fashioned enough to still want some femininity and
expect a little mystery. But those chicks in Levis and scraggly
hair really turn me off.
JM: I like chicks in Levis. My taste is like whoever approaches me,
I think it's groovy.
JC: Sounds pretty exhausting.
Babe: You know what's a groovy word? Bellwether: leader of a
mindless crowd. That's what you are, Jim, the leader of a mindless
crowd.
JM: Babe, that's what I mean. You got to learn to curb your tongue.
I can see what it will be like. John would say, "and then Babe said
you know what you are Jim? The leader of a mindless crowd." If you
print that, John, I won't kill you, I'll haunt you. They all have
minds.
Maybe collectively. . .a crowd together really has no mind.
Individually everybody does. They all have bitchin' minds. Like, I
bet there's more philosophy in some 16 year old chick's mind than
you ever dreamed of in your whole cigarette. Some of those letters
to those fan magazines are really lonely and deep and open. Some of
them are bullshit. I don't read many, but some that I've read
really knocked me out. Really open, sincere. Anyway, you got to
learn to hold your tongue. Can you remember that?
Babe: I'll remember that. I'll keep silent like deep water.
Whenever I say anything from now on, it will be such a profundity
that you guys will just fall out of your chairs.
Waitress: That will be $39.75