lease say something to your readers.‘
When Henry Rollins asks. you don‘t
refuse. ‘There’s a guy who‘s opening
for me. he‘s a writer on my label. his
name is Don Bajema, and I‘m
bringing him to Scotland because I really want people to see him do his thing. He’s one of my best friends and he’s just one of the greatest people I’ve ever met. And he's never been to Scotland before and he‘s 43 years old and he’s thrilled. he cannot wait. We're both really looking forward to being in Scotland. I was there twice last year and I just had the greatest fucking time. I'm really looking forward to seeing you guys out there. ljust want everyone to understand that.‘
When Henry Rollins says ‘hello’ it sounds like a single. clipped syllable. ‘Hell’. When he spoke to The List early last year (Cape Fear was on the cover, The Rollins Band were at the Barrowlands — tattooed. muscley. pure mental aggression were in that spring), his answers were terse. tense. No time for small talk. He keeps bits of his best friend‘s head in a Tupperware tub in his cupboard at home. His friend — morbid sigh of relief — is dead. Hell. How neat, it all fits. He is hardcore’s most righteous rocker. rocklit's most dedicated scribbler. stand-up‘s most scathing funnyman. owner of a publishing firm. helmer of a video company. and co-runner of a record label. But most importantly of all Henry Rollins is blunt and fierce and tewwibly tewwibly scarey. A polymath maybe but a psychopath, oh yeah.
WRONG. Henry Rollins is cool, charming, witty. relaxed and selling out at Mayfest quicker than you can say “I‘ll “culture” ye‘. After twelve years on the burn. first as frontman of prime-time LA punks Black Flag, more latterly as a multi-media-spewing machine, finally Henry Rollins’s rage is all the rage. The only scarey thing is that more agit-punks aren’t this focussed, this intelligent, this intent on extemalising their internal demons, this hell
‘He is hardcore’s most righteous rocker, rocklit’s most dedicated scribbler, stand- up’s most scathing tunnyman.’