My how we laughed at Robert Smith’s reaction when the Cure were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Deadpan, he responds to giddy, over-eager interviewer Carrie Keagan, who, bubbling with gleeful enthusiasm, asks him: “Are you are as excited as I am?” Glumly, he replies: “By the sounds of it, no.”
When I wrote about music, my life was frequently complicated by interviewees who could or would not cooperate. The interview process is seldom sparkling, but we do what we can with occasionally fatigued, overwhelmed, intoxicated, arrogant, tedious musicians (some are lovely, admittedly). A friend attempted to liven up his days on the interview circuit treadmill by posing questions cut from random magazines (including gardening publications) to the initial bewilderment, then eventual amusement, of his subjects. I still have fond memories of interviewing Edsel Auctioneer for the NME, a Leeds band with the nous to tell benign lies in order to enliven the process (who offered a welcome, slightly ribald fib about song lyrics and a Jacuzzi).
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