ROYAL TRUX : The Complete Interviews

1989 - 2001

1 9 8 9

Vertical Stripes, Pilgrim Shoes, 
These People Aren't Asleep : Royal Trux Interview
by Gerald Cosloy
Conflict, issue 50
Fall 1989

"I don't know what I'll do if we end up signing them." --- anonymous record company publicity person, mortified at the prospect of having to push the music 
of Royal Trux. Royal Trux are Neil and Jennifer, who each play guitar and sing. A jewish fellow named Anil once played Mattel (and occasionally) real drums for 
Royal Trux, but he has since been asked to leave. Michael, who used to play with Atlanta's Medicine Suite and Brooklyn's Blowgun, played on Royal Trux 
self-titled album, but he is not always available for live appearances due to a hospital stay out of state. From November '88 to late spring of this year, Royal 
Trux played several NYC shows, all but one of them at the CBGB Record Canteen (a November set at CBGB following Ritual Tension or someone as legendary, was witnessed by 4 people). These performances ranged from solo pieces by Jennifer, shows as a trio featuring either Charlie from the Unsane on drums or Ed Roser of Urge Overkill on bass, or full-scale "band" gigs, featuring all of the above, plus whatever guest vocalists they could recruit from that evening's audience. Even in the context of a supposedly 'anything-goes' rock scene, Royal Trux are a strange group. Although much of their previous recognition has come from Neil's off again/on again involvement as a guitarist for Pussy Galore (who's latest LP he appears on), Royal Trux do not recall Pussy Galore's band of controlled fury in the slightest... whether or not Royal Trux seem much at all like a rock band is a subject of minor controversy (depends, probably, on what you think rock is to begin with). While Royal Trux's music is particularly atonal, disjointed, awfully clumsy and often incredibly haunting, they are not yet another LOUD, POWERFUL, AGGRESSIVE rock band. Despite their stated enthusiasm for live performance (or music entirely), I have never seen a band take to the stage with such apparent disinterest. At first glance/listen, it's difficult to ascertain whether or not these people are likely to make it thru the set without an ambulance being called. Then again, they're still with us. Their songs, while admittedly hit or miss (usually three-quarters great), are ambitious to the point where it's questionanble whether or not postage-stamp sized stages and pignose amps can accomodate them properly. Royal Trux need strings, a big piano, a qualified ensemble who're smart enough to keep us with whatever's been written for them... 

though none of these things are likely to happen anytime soon. Royal Trux's 
unwillingness (or maybe inability) to tidy up their sound, the way they've 
distanced themselves from the local scenemaker clique, the lack of a manager, 
publicist, record label, etc., have and will continue to contribute to their 
next to unknown status. Of course, all of these items seem to rank far behind 
writing new music in their eyes, so it's stupid to complain. 
It's OK if Royal Trux stay a secret, because there are plenty of other things in 

the world to worry about. It's OK if you'd prefer to view Royal Trux as 2 
untalented, junkie retards, 'cause that's what people say behind their backs 
anyway. Dont forget to [unintelligeable] put your hands over your ears and make 
faces while you're at it. 
Gerald: Tell me where you grew up. 
Neil: My father was in the army, working in the Pentagon, way out in suburban 
Virginia. He was in the Intelligence department, and we were stationed in Europe 

for a while, but when he got back to Virginia it was a desk job, just protocol 
stuff. I lived in Virginia for three years before I moved out to California, 
then different parts of Virginia, Connecticut... 
Jennifer: I'm from Southern Maryland, I moved to D.C. to [sic] when I was seven.
Neil: I went to D.C. after Connecticut, after college. You saw that Pussy Galore 

thing in Spin, right? That thing about how I hated all the Dischord stuff 
because I was from Virginia. I didn't really mean it that way. 
Gerald: You didn't actually hate all the Dischord bands? 
Neil: No, I just hated their music, but it wasn't because of being from 
Virginia. 
Gerald: You weren't into hardcore. 
Neil: No. I liked the Sex Pistols and the Clash, but I couldn't really connect 
that to hardcore. And at the time those bands were like the only thing 
happening, except for 9353, Velvet Monkeys and a bunch of semi-professional 
bands. 
Gerald: In Boston, the DC hardcore bands were considered to be a pretty big 
deal. 
Neil: But which came first, the DC scene or LA? 
Gerald: Well, the Germs existed before Minor Threat, but they were hardly the 
same thing. There's an old story about the Teen Idles going out to L.A. for the 
first time, but I still think the DC bands were fairly unique. 
Neil: I couldn't make a move back then. I had this band called the Jetboys 
Northwest, and we had this guy who played bass for Government Issue in the band. 

He sort of knew everybody, and since I couldn't really get through to the club 
owners, he was around for that stuff. I thoughe he was gonna set up shows for 
us, but he never did. He was really worried about answering to those people, 
impressing them, and I couldn't talk up the band to anyone. 
Gerald: Are there any Jetboys tapes? What did you sound like? 
Neil: A few tape compilations and stuff. It was really pop, like the Velvet 
Underground, at least in the guitar playing and singing, that's what I like. We 
played the Biltmore and a few other places. I had this dyed black hair and 
military boots and I'd sort of sit in the back of the room... 
Jennifer: That's when I met Neil, he wanted me to check out his band... 
Gerald: What year was this? 
Neil: 1984 
Gerald: And you were out of high school at this point? 
Neil: Oh yeah, I had gone to college in Storrs, Connecticut for a while. I used 
to go to see shows at the Anthrax. You remember the Vatican Commandos? 
Gerald: How long were you at UConn? 
Neil: Two semesters. I failed... it's funny, it's really a commuter school. 
Everyone I knew there lived in the area. It was an important period for me, 
'cause I wasn't doing anything other than taking drugs and writing all the time. 

I couldn't wait to move to New York. But then I moved to DC instead. 
Jennifer: When I met Neil in DC, he was living in this warehouse when [sic] some 

guy who was also playing guitar for Jetboys for a while. 
Neil: He said he was once in Circle X. 
Jennifer: And he's pretty old now, maybe 40. 
Gerald: Yeah, well nobody in Cirle X that I've met is exactly a teenager. I 
remember meeting someone from that band back in Boston in 1982, and he was sort 
of old. They wanted to play with SS Decontrol at Gallery East, but it never 
happened. 
Neil: I think Dan knew about Sonic Youth back then and he didn't like them very 
much, 'cause we would hear them on WHFS. 
Gerald: WHFS was playing Sonic Youth in 1984? That's impossible. (WHFS is a 
DC-area "rock of the eighties" station whose format is closer to that of WDRE or 

WBCN than any college station you'd care to name) 
Neil: No, they really were, like some instrumental stuff. And to me, it was 
really natural, it seemed like the next step after that first Dream Syndicate 
album, not even pretending you had a song. I saw them (Dream Syndicate) the 
first time they toured, back when Karl Precoda was in the band, and they were 
really good. 
Gerald: They were even good the first tour they did without Kendra, but the 
shows got progressively worse after that, especially that tour with REM. 
Neil: You mean when they got those session guys. Like the piano player. 
Gerald: I think they just bought into the whole rock'n'roll mythology, took 
themselves way too seriously. 
Neil: And their music suffered from it... that was the same time the second REM 
record came out, and I remember wondering which of those two bands, REM or the 
Dream Syndicate, were gonna make it big. I was working at a college radio 
station then... 
Gerald: WHUS? 
Neil: Yeah, Huskie Radio... 
Gerald: 'Cause I'm pretty sure they play Royal Trux... 
Neil: At the time I was there they wouldn't play anything, it was really campy. 
They'd play the Minutemen or U2, but that was about it. 
Gerald: Did Jetboys Northwest have a following? 
Neil: Yeah, slightly. Jon Hamill said he knew people who went to see us. 
Jennifer: It was really small. I started going to their shows once I became 
friends with Neil, but I never got to know the other people at the shows, 'cause 

none of them were from the city, they all came from the suburbs. None of them 
would ever hang out and talk, but you'd sort of recognize them from gig to gig, 
like the same 5 people who were steady and always there. 
Neil: But there was no way we ever could have gone anywhere. It didn't seem like 

anybody would have been interested. Like that band 9353, they had such a massive 

hardcore following... 
Gerald: Which never made sense to me... 
Neil: Ahh, they weren't that bad... 
Jennifer: But if you knew the history of D.C. it would make sense. D.C. is sort 
of like New York in how it's so incestuous, but even more so 'cause it's so 
small. It's not even like their music even mattered, content had nothing to do 
with it. You would follow them anyway, no matter what move they made. 
Neil: It was like they could do no wrong. They even did an entire one-week stand 

at DC Space. 
Jennifer: It was really a big social scene more than anything else. 
Neil: I just never understood it, and I never really fit in with those people. I 

remember trying to get Jetboys gigs at 930 Club, and I'd go down there with a 
cassette that had "Jetboys Northwest" written on it and I'd leave it [sic] some 
guy who opened the door and he's put the tape in some box full of cassettes. I 
didn't leave a press kit or anything, and I just figured they'd listen to it 
really soon, you know, judge it fairly. I had no idea how it worked. 
Gerald: Well, it's the same thing here. You can go to the club of choice in New 
York, drop off a tape and be ignored. 
Neil: Yeah, but it's still more lively hear [sic] don't you think? Or has it 
dwindled. 
Gerald: I haven't lived here long enough to tell if it's dwindled. I think there 

are plenty of interesting artists, it's the lack of an audience I'm surprised 
by. Since there's no unified tag for the rock press to drop on the whole thing, 
it's doubtful that anyone takes it seriously. We also don't have discos giving 
bands huge guarantees anymore. It's pretty bizarre how Sonic Youth or Live Skull 

made as much money playing in front of tiny, bored crowds at the Peppermint 
Lounge as they did later on playing to a packed CBGB. On the other hand, when I 
first moved here, the Sin Club and A7 were long gone and Maxwell's was actually 
the closest thing you'd find to a 'grass roots' venue. These days, the Pyramid 
no longer treats the band like a sideshow, you've got more do it yourself shows 
happened at the Cantten, ABC No Rio, the Gas Station and everything... or the 
Unsane at the Wah Wah Hut... 
Neil: You mean the Club Void? 
Gerald: Is that what they're calling it? Club Void? Jesus Christ, you're 
kidding... 
Neil: No, I swear, that's what it's called. What, you think they're ripping off 
the Club Void thing? 
Gerald: Well it seems pretty close, doesn't it? 
New York, New York 
Gerald: Marty Thau was telling me that Suicide have sold 250,000 records 
throughout their career. 
Neil: What, you don't think Suicide could have sold that many records, all of 
them put together? 
Gerald: No, I doubt it . Maybe there are that many Alan Vega solo albums sitting 

in the cut out bins. 
Neil: I saw him once, he was really good. I know it's not the same thing as 
seeing Suicide, but still, it's like waiting ten years to see these bands you've 

never had a chance to watch. 
Gerald: Last time I saw them was a show at CBGB with Die Kreuzen in '86. I think 

they played the Limelight last year. 
Neil: We played the Limelight last year. For 15 minutes. They didn't like us 
that much. 
Jennifer: We were playing with this other big band on the bill, these guys that 
were all dressed up like Hanoi Rocks... 
Neil: ... and Bobby Steele played with us... 
Gerald: (almost having a heart attack) Bobby Steele's played with you?! 
Neil: Oh yeah, he was really good, he's ok. He was up there with us on the 
Limelight stage, hobbling around... 
Gerald: Was he using the cane? 
Neil: I don't remember. I think he lost all of his toes or something, something 
really bad. 
Gerald: Just one toe, you know the song, "9 Toes Later". But you can lose your 
balance if you lose just one toe. 
Jennifer: He looked really fucked up. And he got in a fight that night. He was 
arguing with someone and he started telling them how famous he was, it was 
pathetic. 
Neil: Well wasn't he in the Misfits once? 
Gerald: Oh yeah, that's always been his big thing. He claims that Danzig has had 

him blackballed all over New York. 
Neil: But I always heard that Danzig actually played everything except the drums 

on those Misfits records. 
Gerald: How did you ever hookup with Bobby Steele? 
Neil: I don't know, I guess he liked the "x" in our name. We were using an umlat 

in there for awhile too, so maybe he liked that. 
Anil, Media Groupies, and Dope 
Neil: But the Bobby Steele thing, it's sort of like the same thing with the way 
people atc about Pussy Galore, you know, the record on the wall for $150. That 
was Anil's whole thing, the Pussy Galore name... Jon (Spencer) was gonna get me 
in to see Pussy Galore and Sonic Youth at the Cat Club last year (this was 
during the period inbetween Neil's stints in Pussy Galore) , and I went to the 
door and the guy said I wasn't on the list and Anil starts yelling at him, "Do 
you know how this is? This is Neil Hagerty, his face is on the cover of the next 

Pussy Galore record!" I was petrified, it was awful. And right then it was so 
apparent what Anil wanted, oh yeah, "do you know who I am", "I'm with Pussy 
Galore, I'm so famous", it was disgusting... Anil was like that, he had that 
opinion... 
Gerald: What, of himself? Just because he was in a band with you? 
Neil: No, it was all for his own benefit, like he was trying to use me... 
Jennifer: When we played at Vassar, that's where Anil was from, and it was like 
he was trying to show us off to his friends, like he was cool through being 
associated with us... 
Neil: He took us to this party, and we walk into the room and there's this 
garbage can filled with beer and ice, and as soon as we walked in the room 
became completely silent, and they're all starring at us? And someone suddenly 
says, "anyone got any dope?"... 
Jennifer: Yeah, 'cause we're from New York... 
Neil: And it's like, "uh, oh, time to leave" 
Gerald: Lydia Zamm? 
Jennifer: Yeah, and she and all those people were really weird about it... 
Neil: Yeah, like they wanted to hang with us, but they thought we weren't good 
enough to have gotten by on the music, that it was all some sort of hype. 
Jennifer: It was just Anil's record collector friends, all these media groupies. 

If your name had ever been written down anywhere, they'd take it to mean so 
much. 
Gerald: I once mentioned you guys to Noelle at WVKR (Vassar's radio station) and 

she said something like "Oh, I know all about Royal Trux, that's Anil's band", 
as though that meant you had the plague. 
Neil: Yeah, I think she was always Anil's nemesis around there. 
Jennifer: When we played there he got beat up. These guys grabbed him and 
started dragging Anil around the room on his head and his back... 
Neil: And he was trying to laugh the whole thing off, trying to smoke a 
cigarette while they were pounding him... 
Jennifer: And they were really hurting him too, it was terrible, I was so 
scared... 
Gerald: How could this one guy inspire so much hatred? 
Neil: Well he really is a little weasel. To me, that's sort of the story of our 
whole album, the complete blindness of the whole thing... he was really hung up 
on controlling the Royal Trux image. He was studying film at the time, and that 
had a lot to do with where his mind was at. Before we'd practice, he'd put on a 
Patti Smith bootleg, just to 'set the mood', you know. He used to come down 
every weekend to visit, and I'd say stuff to him like "I want you to drop out of 

school", not that I cared, and he always say [sic] "Yes sir, you're right", he's 

tell us that every weekend just to save face. 
Gerald: If Anil was such a loser, why did you ever have anything to do with him 
in the first place? 
Neil: I was working at a bookstore and this friend of Anil's came in one day 
with all these new records. He had the new Dukes of Stratosphere picture, and I 
just said "Oh, XTC, they suck, I hate XTC." And he had the new Jesus & Mary 
Chain single and I said I don't like them either, even though I once did. So I 
told the guy I used to be in Pussy Galore and I had this new band that I needed 
a drummer for. He told me he knew this half jewish kid, you know, "I have this 
friend that plays a rhythm machine." 
Gerald: Oh no. 
Neil: First time I met him was at the premiere of "Straight to Hell"... (Neil 
notices look of disgust from the interviewer), yeah I used to like the Pogues, I 

still do. I'm sort of Irish (Neil affects a vague "irish" facial expression)... 
so Anil's [sic] was all decked out in his leather jacket, and he's going on 
about Soft Cell and Jandek... like Jandek, there's an interesting case, 'cause 
I've heard a few of his records, he's got 20 of them right? But I've heard a few 

songs I liked... 
Gerald: His records are actually pretty different from album to album, it's not 
just incompetence for the sake of itself. 
Neil: Yeah, but remember what Christgau said about Half Japanese. He always 
thought they were a bit too cult-y. He used to pan them and Sonic Youth for 
being too cult-y, it was really weird, like what he'd say in that Record Giude I 

used to always read... 
Gerald: Well the whole scoop with Christgau and your record is pretty funny. 
That whole Spin piece was really weird, 'cause it was supposed to be this 
running dialogue about a bunch of different records that he and I would each 
pick out. And your record was the only one that I picked that ended up in the 
magazine. When I finally got to his place, he still hadn't finished listening to 

it. He was listening for like, the second time that day while the tape recorder 
was running. And after two or three songs he said, really, these were his exact 
words, "I have nothing to say about this record and I'm not sure I ever will." 
Neil: But that record is partly about him, it really is. He hates art rock, and 
I used to like Genesis, at least the first two albums. I always knew there was 
something wimpy about that, and he did too, 'cause he only sort of like it, he 
only gave The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway a B+, which I thought was their worst 
album. He was in this whole big debate with Jon Pareless, who defended Genesis 
at the time. Pareless would say "we defend teenage punks, so why don't we defend 

teenage pricks?", which I think he was saying about Peter Hamill... and that was 

around the time punk rock was starting, and living down in Virginia, where's 
theres no local music scene or anywhere to see new bands in '76 and '77, so it 
was easy to pay attention to that stuff... he (Christgau) always holds that 
middle line, maintaining those standards over time... 
Gerald: I've always sensed a press bias towards singer\songwriters who fall into 

some sort of tradition, whether it's crap like Don Henley or Bruce Cockburn, or 
something tolerable like Elvis Costello or Randy Newman... 
Neil: Well, I've always liked Randy Newman, especially that 12 Songs album... 
Gerald: The albums have been great, the arrangements and the fucking LA mafia 
that clutter them up are what stinks... 
Neil: Or Mark Knopfler. But I remember where Christgau coined that phrase, 
"semi-popular" in his book... (long drawn out discussion about the Reducers and 
the Incredible Cassuals ensues, edited for humane reasons)... 
Gerald: I've always found it curious how a band as generic as the Reducers 
could've been perceived as an imaginative or witty band, where someone like 
Sonic Youth were just dismissed so casually, as if there was no historical 
precedent to their insular little bleating. If you look at music throughout 
history, Branca, Sonic Youth, SS Decontrol and the Stooges aren't more than a 
few inches away from each other... but they'll never be considered at [sic] 
valid or worthy of examination as say, Jody Watley or the Pet Shop Boys, merely 
because they don't reach as many people. 
Neil: But that's always been the thing, it [sic] someone is buying something, 
then it's valid. If it's popular, then it's part of popular culture, but 
semi-popular is just a few people messing around in their bedroom. 
Gerald: Christgau wouldn't talk about the American Music Club record for the 
Spin piece because he had nothing to say about it. He didn't care for it, and 
although he admitted that he might find something worthy of commentary after 5 
or 6 listens, he pointed out that there were too many other records he was 
already seriously interested in to bother giving A.M.C. that much time, which I 
thought was fair. 
Neil: But you like that band, right? 
Gerald: Yes, but I'm not surprised or angry when someone else doesn't. I thought 

they sucked when I heard their first album, so I can understand not being 
patient enough to check them out further. I thought Royal Trux sucked the first 
time I heard you. 
Neil: That was the Nightbirds show (August '87), that was really weird. Do you 
know the story behind that night? 
Gerald: That was your first show, the gig that was supposed to be at W.G.A.F., 
but they decided to show a video of "The Big Chill" instead. I remember the 
flyer. 
Jennifer: That was Anil's idea. 
Neil: He insisted on using a photograph of us. He came over and did a 'photo 
shoot'. 
Jennifer: That was so weird, that he had to use a photograph. 
Gerald: Yeah, I haven't seen too many other groups put photographs of themselves 

on their first flyer. That was a strange show, I didn't know what to expect or 
what to make of it. Were you guys making it up as you went along? 
Jennifer: No, no way. All the music was written out beforehand. Neil wrote the 
music for me to play. 
Neil: We rehearsed incessantly. I prepared sheet music for the whole thing. The 
whole point was to go for the Randy Newman / singer-songwrite thing, a guy with 
a vision, sort of like Tom Verlaine, but just have it backed by total 
incompetent... and making it really really clear, and then getting the whole 
thing drunk and drugged, si it melts and falls all over the place. I think it 
works really well, but that night it sort of turned on itself... 
Gerald: I guess I didn't like that first show 'cause I was still viewing Royal 
Trux in terms of "Neil's new band", will they be as good as Pussy Galore, you 
know. The surprising direction of your new music, combined with the physical 
appearance of you three onstage, not to mention the fact that this was all 
taking place in a bogus Mexican restaurant where japanese [sic] businessmen were 

trying to eat dinner above the din, was hard to absorb all at once. 
Jennifer: It certainly felt uncomfortable. 
Neil: I had already played there once on an open mike night. I was playing at 
the Speakeasy on Monday nights for awhile, during their open mike nights. 
Jennifer: He was playing piano and this one guy there kept yelling at him... 
Neil: Some old guy kept cracking on me, he kept saying "Brian Wilson!", sort of 
gesturing over towards me. And he said afterwards, "just trying to keep the show 

moving,"... you've probably never been to Speakeasy. 
Gerald: I've seen Peter Stampfel play there. Vicky's got a friend that plays 
there pretty often. 
Neil: I don't see how that thing can go on, those open mike night... I mean, I 
would love to play those clubs in the Village, the folk clubs. I know they're 
such a tourist thing now, but I've never encountered anything like that before 
where I'm from, so it's all new and interesting to me. 
Gerald: If you had been here a few years earlier, you could have played Folk 
City. 
Neil: When I first came to New York I used to walk around and try to find places 

like that, Michael used to do the same thing. , [sic] he'd go to Union Square 
'cause-you-never-know-what-you'll-find-there. I'd follow the footsteps of Tom 
Verlaine, I knew where he lived... at that time, Pussy Galore just having moved 
here, I had a lot of time to walk around and look at things. Marquee Moon made 
such a huge impression on me, it opened up the world. New York was like this 
fictional place that I had to get to... when I was in high school I'd get called 

a fag for reading poetry. When I was in high school everyone thought I was a fag 

'cause I just had these 2 close friends and I didn't have a girl friend [sic]. 
And I just thought wow, I've got to get out of here, got to move to D.C. And 
when I got there I found out what a stupid joke it really was, how I was fooled 
by all these images of what the city was supposed to be. And I couldn't just go 
back, so I ended up making experiences about the experience... but it wasn't 
supposed to be some sort of arty thing. 
The Album 
Neil: It wasn't supposed to be some sort of arty thing, and in the end I didn't 
even want to see it come out. It's supposed to be about the obscure music and 
all the prejudice that comes with it. I mean, how much power do you think 
Christgau's opinion wields? 
Gerald: Not an awful lot, no more than anyone else's really. It makes some sort 
of difference within a critical fraternity, or maybe it looks nice in a press 
kit, but I don't think the rock press does very much as far as introducing 
people to music they haven't heard. 
Neil: You don't think people hear about stuff for the first time that way? 
Gerald: Sure, but no more so than they'd hear about it from a friend, or on the 
radio, or at a record shop. I don't think "Consumer Guide" is an appropriate 
title for a column that has so little to do with buying records, or what music 
actually sounds like. But that doesn't just apply to Christgau, it's true of 
most critics... having to sum up a band's sound, history and personality in a 
scant few sentences is really difficult to do without lying or generalizing 
quite a bit... it's just a drag that journalists, fanzine losers included, give 
up before they even try... 
Neil: I don't know... I've known people who've bought records because they read 
about them somewhere and they were somehow led to believe that these groups were 

something they were expected to hear, something they were supposed to know 
about, that still happens. 
Gerald: Sure, a review can plant an idea in someone's mind, but people still buy 

records they read about in fanzines as some sort of fashion accessories... 
instead of posing with right paperback against the wall, you can display a 
Mudhoney record prominently in your house... 
Jennifer: When I worked at the CBGB Canteen, they kept telling me to try and 
"sell" the records, to try and inform people what records they should buy, and I 

just couldn't. Most of the records there were by groups that I had never heard, 
and of the few records there that I liked, I didn't want to be responsible for 
having to tell someone what they were like... maybe it's really cynical, but it 
seems as though you just need to convince people that a band is cool, or looks 
right, or is the band for the times, and they'll just say "yeah", without even 
listening... I know it's cynical, but I really believe that the impression 
people get of a band's look or reputation will matter more than... it just has 
nothing to do with music. 
Gerald: The Mudhoney Generation. 
Neil: Well, it was totally like that when I was in England. 
Gerald: Now they've 'discovered' American rock. 
Jennifer: Music is such a small part of it, reputation, gossip, how someone 
looks... 
Neil: I remember when you could go into a record store and sit in a booth and 
preview the records you were thinking of buying. That was really good... they've 

got something like that at Tower, but they make the selections for you... 
Gerald: And record labels have to pay to be included. 
Neil: It's funny, 'cause even in just the last year, we've run into so much of 
this stuff... I've seen plenty of it in this band and in Pussy Galore. At first 
it [sic] was hearing people say that Royal Trux were a weaker version of Pussy 
Galore. 
Jennifer: It made sense, after all, if you had nothing else to say, Neil was in 
Pussy Galore, so why not. It's so predictable. 
Gerald, Yeah, but people can tell other people about bands without relying on 
comparisons. Jennifer, you're the one who told me about the Wylde Mammoths 
record, and you never told me who they were supposed to be a clone of. 
Jennifer: Yeah, but I'm not one of those people who's going to be very 
descriptive. I've always had the problem of not being a very good communicator, 
in conversation and stuff. I always feel like I'm not getting the point across. 
Rather than comparing a band to something, I'll just scratch my head, 'cause it 
just doesn't seem like something you can always put into words without being 
unfair sometimes. I like going to shows sometimes. I saw B.A.L.L. for the first 
time the other night, and I really liked them a lot, I really like Don Fleming. 
But usually when I go to shows it's just really depressing, there's always the 
same sort of people at the front of the stage, you always see the same people at 

these shows, and I don't know why some of them are there. It doesn't seem like 
they're paying much attention... 
Gerald: Yeah, but it's mostly entertainment for them, something to wag their 
heads or tap the ir toes along to... 
Jennifer: I already know that. There's nothing wrong with it being entertaining, 

but it seems like entertainment at the expense of something else, I can't even 
put a finger on it... 
Gerald: Had you played music before Royal Trux? 
Jennifer: When I was living in DC I bought a bass... I saved up my money and 
bought a Fender Mustang, but then it got ripped off. I wanted to play guitar 
originally, but it seemed like there were too many different things to learn... 
so I finally got a guitar and I'd sit around all day trying to play it, making 
the most horrible noises, it must've really sounded terrible. But I had to get 
the feel for it. I'm not what a [sic] anyone would call a good guitar player, I 
already know that. But sometimes when I play, I sort of feel something, a weird 
spark, like I might play something that even briefly, just seems totally right. 
It doesn't happen all the time. Like the second show I did at the Canteen that 
was advertised as Royal Trux but I just did it myself. The first show was so 
perfect. 
Neil: I didn't even go to that one... I was just sitting at home that night 
thinking about it, I could feel it, I knew it would be good... 
Gerald: I thought it was incredibly brave... 
Jennifer: But it wasn't, it didn't even feel like it took anything from me, it 
felt really right being on stage that night. And the second show, it just didn't 

have that feeling... I know this sounds strange, but it's not like I'm enough of 

a real guitar player to say something like "I made a few mistakes" or "I messed 
up". I mean, that's me up there, that's the way I play. I once thought about 
taking lessons, trying to learn how to be a really good guitar player, but 
what's the point. Even if I learned how to play other people's songs perfectly, 
it's not like I'd be putting any part of me into them... 
Neil: I've been in tons of bands, all throughout growing up, lots of cover 
bands, playing Rush or AC/DC songs. Playing Talking Heads songs in the 10th 
grade... 
Jennifer: You call my playing alone brave, but it's only brave in the context of 

the other people in the room who are watching me, and thinking they're going to 
say to each other afterwards. That's the sort of thing I have to totally 
separate myself from, because that has nothing to do with my performance, I'll 
just lose out if I worry or think about thats stuff. I don't have that many 
friends, but it's better that way, 'cause I don't have that strong a filter in 
my head. If people say things to me, they sort of stick with me, and I don't 
need that. I'd rather know firsthand, how I play, who am I... that's what I mean 

about all the gossip and stupid talk, it just takes away from what you might 
really want to do... 
Gerald: But that whole scene is a big magnet for people with nothing else to 
hang onto. 
Neil: Well that's punk rock, lots of outcasts. 
Gerald: Yeah, but there's a difference between being an outcast and just being 
stupid. 
Neil: I was thinking about what it's been playing trying to introduce people to 
different bands, but they'll always associate the groups I like with my 
personality, like trying to get people in my high school to listen to the Clash 
or something... and the Clash are something people can sort of understand, but I 

remember being in a band who's first show was opening for Psychodrama, a band 
called Man Ray. We were sort of like Pere Ubu, lots of saxophone, really 
repetitive bass and drum parts... I used to listen to a lot of 20th century 
academic music, like John Cage. So groups like Throbbing Gristle or Z'ev weren't 

totally strange to me... 
Gerald: I always thought that you guys should tape every set the way Throbbing 
Gristle did. 
Neil: We tape every practice. 
Gerald: No, I meant taping every show as sort of a document of your development.
Neil: We could do that, but lots of our shows, like that one in Boston are 
mostly talking... 
Jennifer: It was a great show, but sort of a bad night. We played at the Rat 
with Volcano Suns, Lonely Moans and Drumming on Glass, and no one would let us 
use their drum kit. 
Neil: The Volcano Suns were really awful. 
Jennifer: They're just so smug onstage, everything's a big joke. They're just 
laughing at their followers, just making fun of these fans of theirs that 
obviously go to every Volcano Suns show... and then all this other stuff 
happened before we played. We were almost pulled off the bill, and Michael got 
beat up. 
Neil: The guy who booked the show (Tom Johnson) told us we'd be given dinner and 

free drinks. So Michael walks up to the bar and orders a screwdriver and walks 
away with it. The bartender started yelling "hey you, you didn't pay for your 
drink." [sic] and Michael just turned around and said "Fuck you." 
Jennifer: So then the bartender jumped over the bar and grabbed Michael and 
twisted his arm behind his back while the other bouncer started hitting him. 
Neil: They didn't hit from behind, but they did hit him in the back of the head. 

Jennifer: So the bouncers threw Michael out of the back door, they ripped a 
radio antenna off of someone's car and started whipping him with it. They said 
we were pulled off the bill, but we refused to leave until we got to speak to 
the manager... some guy with a voice box held up to his throat... 
Gerald: The famous Mitch? 
Jennifer: Yeah, that's him, he's totally disgusting. 
Neil: But he was actually nice to us, buying he [sic] beers and stuff. He seemed 

sort of impressed that we didn't just leave. 
Jennifer: He and these other people at the club kept saying things stuff to us 
like "are you guys ok now?", 'cause I think they thought we were really fucked 
up or something. 
Gerald: That's 'cause you weren't wearing flannel shirts. 
Neil: Silly me. Actually, Michael was wearing a flannel shirt, and that didn't 
stop them from beating him up. 
Jennifer: So while Michael is getting beaten up, all these guys from Volcano 
Suns and the other bands are hanging around in the dressing room saying stuff 
like "what an asshole, that guy's really fucked up." As though we couldn't hear 
what they were saying. And after the show, they're all just totally kissing our 
ass, saying all this stuff like "you guys are really cool, it's really cool that 

you were still allowed to play tonight, this place really sucks." 
(Note: around one week after this interview, I ran into Peter Prescott, who made 

a special point of telling me how bad he though Royal TRux were at the Rat. Not 
only did this music expert question whether or Neil or Jennifer could actually 
play, complete a sentence or tie their own shoes, but he vehemently denied that 
he or his bandmates said anything complementary to Royal Trux after the show. 
Must've been three guys who looked like Volcano Suns... GC) 
Neil: It's like that guy Greg from Raging Slab coming up to us after a show at 
CBGB and 'sympathizing' with us about the bad sound quality, or guys from Live 
Skull telling us at the Pyramid, "oh yeah, this place sucks", like they really 
mean it. As though they're our friends. 
Gerald: I guess that means Volcano Suns won't play the Rat anymore and Live 
Skull will boycott the Pyramid out of solidarity with Royal Trux. 
Neil: It's just the whole scene chomping on it's own tail, these people seem to 
think they have way too much to lose to bother being honest. It's like, you have 

to work so hard and meet so many people just to get a small piece of an already 
tiny pie, why bother. Like, those guys from the Lonely Moans were asking me all 
these questions about Caroline, 'cause of Pussy Galore and all, and they're 
saying "yeah, maybe we'll try and sign with Caroline", and yeah, who cares. 
Gerald: They're ok guys and a better band too, but they're really hung up on 
getting the scoop about all these different labels. 
Neil: I thought they were terrible. They were asking us what label our record 
was on and then they said "oh, too bad you had to put it out yourself", like we 
should apologize. I mentioned that Caroline had talked to us about signing Royal 

Trux, but then they lost interest, and the guy says "oh yeah, we're gonna be 
talking to Caroline", all this fake status shit. 
Gerald: Did Royal Trux exist as a group prior to Neil's leaving Pussy Galore in 
1987? 
Neil: Not exactly. We had already been playing and writing some stuff, but it 
was more of a musical idea than anything else. It was also the best band name I 
had ever thought of... it was really a few years of musical ideas finally coming 

out in a new band... 
Gerald: Because with the timing of it, playing your first 2 or 3 gigs within a 
week or tow of leaving Pussy Galore, it definitely came off as Neil's quickie 
New Band... 
Neil: Yeah, that may have been what people thought, but our music isn't just 
thrown together, that's how we really play. Those songs, all the off-times and 
stuff, that's all written out in advance. It wasn't supposed to be some sort of 
Mykel Board thing, like some kind of joke. 
Gerald: But to then play CBGB after Pussy Galore as your 2nd New York show, 
especially with Jon Spencer having been one of the 5 people at your first 
show... 
Neil: Yeah, but I couldn't say no when he offered. I didn't want it to be like, 
"No way, I've got my own thing now, man." 
Gerald: ... and I've since found out that Jon really did like that first show, 
which is ok, 'cause I actually thought the night of that CBGB show, that he 
threw you on the bill as some sort of revenge. 
Jennifer: As a joke? 
Gerald: Yes, you know, "here's the great band Neil left Pussy Galore to start", 
especially after Pussy Galore have just gotten offstage from their record 
release show. 
Neil: It might've looked that way, but that's not at all what Jon had in mind. 
It's really hard to get people to understand that this isn't a side project or 
spinoff of Pussy Galore. I've always been playing songs on my own, making tapes 
and stuff. It never before was something concrete, with records and shows, but 
this is what I wanted to do. I really need to have something of my own. Jon's 
got Pussy Galore, and I like playing guitar with them, but it's not like I have 
to pare down my playing in that band, 'cause it's not my material. I tried to 
teach them a Royal Trux song once, but it didn't work. Pussy Galore isn't the 
sort of band where you'd find me submitting new original songs. They are both 
really different experiences... I mean, with Pussy Galore, it makes sense to 
tour and play all these different cities night after night, but with Royal 
Trux... I mean, I can get together with Jennifer and Michael and we can write 
some new material for a show here or in Boston, but it's not really the kind of 
band that could ever just play night after night, 'cause we don't play the same 
songs. It's not really that sort of a rock thing. I don't really think ahead 
about just having a limited audience for Royal Trux, but I do know we can make a 

much better album than that last album. 
Gerald: So you'll be making a gospel record then? 
Neil: Well Pop Staples is one of my biggest influences, learning all of his 
licks, then forgetting them and trying to incorporate it into my own style, I 
end up doing that with lots of guitar players. That's the way it is living in 
the suburbs, there's lots of time to listen and play. No one I knew had ever 
listened to Marquee Moon before, so for me that was brand new. I could rip off a 

Tom Verlaine lick and all my friends would be really impressed 'cause they 
thought it was mine. For a while, I had all these kids in high school convinced 
I had written a song called "Femme Fatale". I'm sure it's the same way with a 
lot of those British bands. It probably happened that way for the Bangles. 


1 9 9 0 

Royal Trux : Allegro Moderato, Motherfucker
by Seymour Glass
Bananafish 6
1990

BF: When you went on tour, it was just the two of you and a rhythm setup. 
NH: We had samples from records that we just kept dumping down on the 4-track. 
We started off with a clean sample, like something from "Don't Fear The Reaper." 

By the end it was just processed sound. You couldn't tell what it was from, it 
was so decayed. It was organized so that it could be played backwards and 
forwards at any speed and it would fit in with the song we were playing. We got 
this cheap Casio sampler with no memory on it. The rhythm machine and the tone 
generator were in sync with the MIDI clock and the reel-to-reel. I had this 
digital drum machine that was producing typically clean drum sounds and ran it 
through dirty pedals and an envelope filter, sort of like a phase shifter or a 
stationary wash. It was also going through a sequencer and a tone generator so 
part of the drum sequence was cellos and bells but it was so fast, you couldn't 
tell. 
BF: Tell about recording the Twin Infinitives LP. 
NH: It started out as one long tape with all this noise on it. We chopped it up 
into two- and three-minute sections and pieced it back together. 
BF: Why not leave it? 
JH: Because it's not one big song. 
Neil: It has to go into rock/pop form. I like records that are really worked on, 

worked over. More songs means more work than one long piece. There are bound to 
be dead spots in one long piece, but if you're a rock'n'roller, you just take 
the highlights and repeat those to infinity. The chops were made in a harmelodic 

way. Like the Big Bang, first it was a solid composition. But if we'd put Twin 
Infinitives out as one long piece, it's not enough. You know what I'm saying? 
BF: Mm-hm. 
NH: It's supposed to be a reflection of American style. 
JH: It's supposed to be in color, really. It's a painting. 
NH: It wasn't supposed to be in color, Jennifer. 
JH: No, the idea was that it would be all in color. 
NH: You'd like it better if it was in color. 
JH: All the paintings that I do are meant to be in color. 
NH: That's not the collage, that's just irresponsible. You know? You're always 
shooting off your mouth about shit like that. 
JH: No, I'm telling the truth. 
NH: About what you thought about it. You thought, "in color," but I knew it was 
gonna be in black and white all along. So did you. 
JH: Yeah. Oh, yeah. Definitely. 
NH: We had to do that because the record company demands it. They're more than 
willing to play their role. We have the leisure of re-creating things, going 
through rock'n'roll and not mking the same mistakes that were made before. 
Somebody's gotta play the part of the villain, the people who set the rules and 
say, "It's gotta be thisway." 
BF: Is the collage a parody? 
NH: A satire more than a parody. 
BF: Of what? 
NH: Different things I remember from different albums. Not any one LP in 
particular. I guess you could call it a parody in the stye of intimacy, you know 

what I mean? 
BF: I think so. 
NH: All those behind-the-scenes snapshots of a bunch of guys getting together 
for a week. Like the inside of Layla, or Exile on Main Street. What else... 
There are thousands. If somethings works the first time in rock'n'roll, it's 
just replicated on down the line. Rubber stamp. The real good bands, the 
geniuses, uh huh, right, would be the ones that find new things. They're clear 
and focused, but they're finding new ways of getting another eight bucks out of 
people. Then other people start doing the same thing and it's like, "They're 
geniuses. It's a movement." If you weren't cynical, you'd think, "Wow, they're 
part of a movement. They're doing it because they feel like doing it." 
BF: In the collage there's a tiny part thta says, "Yin Jim, W. Lester Duo, and 
the Bones of a Dead Coyote." Is that related to the song "Yin Jim vs. the Vomit 
Creature"? 
NH: There's this psychic agent team for this one cause who are against the other 

group of agents who are trying to control things. Both sides are trying to 
control freedom, yin and yang. One side is lead by Yin Jim and he has a 
fucked-up sidekick named W. Lester Duo, like a snake-oil salesman. They're 
heroin addicts. Everyone's a heroin addict in the future. He's waiting for Yin 
Jim to come back from copping. Yin Jim's out with the Bones of a Dead Coyote, 
the coyote spirit that's Yin Jim's master, you see what I'm saying? 
BF: Sort of. 
NH: Two guys and a dog. It's a kid's story. One guy's a Parker Stevenson kind of 

guy, and the other's... 
JH: Like Sancho Panza. 
NH: but weirder even. They're walking on the beach on the way home. These other 
agents are looking for these life-giving crystals. Reanimating crystals. it's a 
classic sci-fi image, you know what I mean? 
BF: Most assuredly. 
NH: These agents from the other side who are fighting for world domination, but 
more like controlling people and systemizing everything, they attack Yin Jim and 

the Bones of a Dead Coyote because they think they've got the crystals on them, 
but the crystals are at home and all they've got is heroin. Back home, W. Lester 

Duo can't wait anymore so he starts looking around for the stash and he finds 
the crystals. He thinks they're heroin. Since yin Jim's been waylaid by these 
other agents, he goes ahead and does it up. Cut back and the Bones are just 
laying there because Yin Jim's been taken away. He has to be in the vicinity so 
there can be a strong psychic bond to animate him. Yin Jim's concentration was 
broken by the agents interrogating him about where the crystals are. W. Lester 
Duo does so much of the crystals that it makes him puke. The crystals come out 
with his vomit and goes down into the sewer system and this sewage-vomit 
creature rises out of the San Francisco Bay. Meanwhile, Yin Jim gets beat up and 

hit so hard that it releases some psychic anger and reanimates the Bones, who 
run to W. Lester Duo, who's laying in the bathroom all fucked up. The coyote 
passes on the energy, because they're all psychic agents. Psychic warriors. You 
know what I'm saying? 
BF: I follow you. 
NH: So they rescue Yin Jim. They find out what happened and W. Lester Duo's 
like, "Gee, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was crystals. I thought it was heroin. " 

Yin Jim's like, "Do you know what you've done? You've created the Vomit Creature 

that's terrorizing the city." They do battle with it, vanquish it, but not until 

after it kills a bunch of people on Broadway and Columbus. Trashes City Lights 
bookstore. Goes into the Garden of Eden, starts rampaging onstage, kidnaps one 
of the girls, who they accidentally kill during the battle. You know, "It's a 
close shot, but I think I can get it. Oh, shit. Missed." They give her a shot of 

the life-giving crystals so she's alive again, but she's all fucked up. This 
go-go dancer who's really sexy but she's cut on her tits so they're flapping 
around and she's full of bullet holes, covered with Vomit Creature marks that 
can't be removed. Then they go into a bar, Mr. Bing's, to celebrate another day 
in the secret psychic service. Now it's four people - the go-go dancer, the 
zombie, Yin Jim , W. Lester Duo, and the Bones of a Dead Coyote. Maybe we'll do 
a whole album, like Stories from the Yin Jim File. 
BF: Sounds similar to the What Is Royal Trux video. 
NH: It's based on that. 
BF: Especially the heroin and the go-go dancing, although I don't exactly know 
if I'd consider Jennifer a go-go dancer, exactly. 
JH: No. 
NH: You're not a go-go dancer? What would you call yourself? Live exotic dancer? 

BF: Stripper, maybe? 
BF: Decompression specialist? 
JH: It's just a job. I'm not that. Some people are those things. Strippers and 
go-go dancers but... 
NH: I think you are but you don't try. 
JH: I am a singer and I have a job. 
NH: Puh! You're not a singer, Jennifer. 
JH: Uh-huh. Yes, I am. 
NH: No way. You're a vocalist. 
JH: I'm a vocalist. 
NH: You're a frontman. 
JH: I'm a frontman. That's what I am. 
NH: She's a frontman. 
BF: Got it. 
NH: See, we're making our bid. It's a neoclassicist move, all these things that 
we do, to show our level of sophistication and ability, rather than just selling 

records and proving it that way. The Matador record, that's our first record, in 

a way. 
BF: Why do you say that? 
NH: It's out of the jurisdiction of the tastes of the people who run the 
distribution companies. It'll be all over the place. 
BF: Were you conscious of that when you made Royal Trux III? 
NH: When we wrote it, I was. It's the basis for everything that I do. 
JH: Not me. I'm not capable of manipulating. 
NH: Twin Infinitives is a good thing for signification, you know, when people 
get complex ideas from sounds. One song on Twin Infinitives, "Lick My Boots," 
has a harmelodic, fucked-up world beat rhythm with a real American line on top 
of it. For Royal Trux III, we can't fuck around like that because it's not like 
we're playing to people that are on our side already. We have to make a clear 
statement about what we are. Twin Infinitives appears to be like a step in a 
progression of things, especially because it's a double album, implying that 
we're getting bigger and better and the next one will be a triple album and the 
one after that will be a boxset. Saturation is the worst thing you can do and it 

shows that we're rock'n'rollers. We're self-destructive. On Royal Trux III, we 
want to show that we're responsible. Part of the fun of Royal Trux is that it's 
like a mixed up collection of baseball cards. You have to sort everything out to 

get things in order. Part of different albums would go together. Since we're 
having fun, we're not earning any money, which means we can be self-righteous 
and say, "That band sucks, because all they're doing is throwing together a few 
signifiers. They know what people are gonna get turned on by and they portray 
it." Everyone goes home and there's nothing left behind. You know what I mean? 
BF: Who me? 
NH: We follow rules to the extreme like a little kid would, to show how stupid 
the rules are because they cause all these other problems, to show how grotesque 

we look and how grotesque the whole thing is. Then, we break the rules. We use 
the limits. We're not just portraying the breaking of the rules. Like being a 
black rock band or performing The Wall at the Berlin wall, which is typical 
rock'n'roll. That's okay, historically, but we're gonna replicate and destroy 
the mold - follow the rules and make a grotesque satirical display of ourselves. 

Marquis de Sade. It's also traditional neoclassicism. Stravinsky would say 
you're freer when you're hindered by conventions and rules. It keeps things 
flowing. But I want glimpses of freedom. Instead of acquiring things through 
money and business and power, I'm interested in capturing moments. We're setting 

an example for the rest of the world, but we're not really good spokesmen for it 

because we made everything we touch look bad. 


H.J. Decent... the saga continues (again)...
by Seymour Glass
Bananafish 7
1990



Bananafish: Here's a question a lot of people want me to ask: who do you think 
you are? 
Neil Hagerty: I went through a whole period where I thought I was crazy. 
Jennifer Herrema: I'm not crazy. If you were crazy, I don't know. You couldn't 
do stuff. 
BF: There are degrees of insanity, though, from mild paranoia to being unable to 

get out of bed. 
JH: Neil's paranoid. 
NH: I am not. 
JH: Yes, you are. 
NH: Why are you fucking saying that? You're just trying to make me look like 
some crazy person that Seymour likes to write about. 
BF: You are paranoid, Neil. Ask anybody. 
JH: I think you are. 
NH: You guys plan this out or what? Is that why you're always talking on the 
phone? 
BF: You shouldn't bite your nails like that. It's unsanitary. 
NH: What the fuck are you doing, Jennifer? The minute the tape goes on you start 

acting weird. 
JH: What do you mean, Neil? What the fuck? Stupid shit. 
NH: What? Why are you saying that? 
JH: Cuz I'm mad. 
NH: Everytime it has something to do with the band, you turn into a total loser.
JH: Yeah, right. You're a fucking loser all the time. It's better than 
NH: You do the whole interview. Change your voice for my parts. 
JH: Go get something to drink. 
BF: Carrot juice for me, please. 
NH: Shall I get some Pez, too? 
BF: I hear they have Roland Kirk Pez dispensers now. You tilt the head back and 
two candies come out. 
JH: Hurry up, Neil. It's a good thing you didn't come earlier. Neil was doing 
British skinhead impersonations all fucking morning. He couldn't stop. 
BF: Tell about the movie you did along time ago. 
JH: I didn't do very much. It was a bunch of kids sitting on bleachers in an 
auditorium. This guy comes running in with a machine gun and blows us all away. 
BF: Why an auditorium? Why not a church? 
JH: We were watching a basketball game. The ball was in midair when the guy came 

in and shot it. All the kids got killed in slow-motion. The next shot is the 
whole basketball court covered in blood. Y'know, total over-dramatization. A 
three-inch deep swimming pool of blood. 
BF: What was the title? 
JH: It was tentatively title School Gym Murder Something or Other or Elementary 
School Murder or Something Like That. Really stupid. I think they ended up 
calling it Bad Boy Blood Barn Murder. It was supposed to be an acronym but it 
never spelled anything. The title was just letters. I think they called it 
Elementary School Psycho (Ax in Y Bad Boy BBM). 
BF: You can't get more tentative than that. 
JH: They wanted to convey a lot of things. I never saw the whole movie. 
BF: Was it ever shown anywhere? 
JH: It played at this big theatre in Anacostia. All the gore movies that didn't 
show anywhere for longer that a week played there. My mom wasn't into it. 
BF: She didn't think anyone'd ever see her daughter sprawled in a three-inch 
deep pool of blood? 
JH: No. The producer was a friend of the family and she thought it was going to 
be some little horror movie. She's really anti-violence. She wouldn't let me see 

Freebie and the Bean or The Sting with my friends parents who always had 
Playboys lying around the house. 
BF: Are your parents suspicious types? 
JH: They're in real estate. 
BF: Ew. 
JH: My dad does renovations on historical buildings. He renovated one that 
nobody wanted to buy. He owes the bank 4,000 a month in interest. My parents 
have this huge six-story house that used to belong to Esther Statfield Walker, 
the pianist. It's a mansion thing and it's on the National Preservation 
Society's house tour in Washington, D.C. 
BF: How often are the tours? 
JH: Twice a year. 
BF: Does a guide tell the tourists that you sleep there? 
JH: Yeah. What's wrong? 
BF: Nothing. I'm just trying to picture that. 


1 9 9 2

Tonka, Tonka, Tonka, Tonka
by Nicholas Bragg
Discorder, issue 118
November 1992 

To say that the Royal Trux are an enigma would be an understatement. Even in the 

indie rock scene they seem to be considered a dirty word... "they were the 
bastard offspring... the white trash neighbours." Every once in a while their 
name would be trotted out, more as a subject for gossip or as a way to be 
ultra-into the scene. You can't just talk about Sonic Youth forever! There was 
lots to talk about; they were the weird neighbours that would always come home 
with a trailer full of junk that would clutter up their front yard. 
Neil Hagerty was a member of NYC's infamous trash rockers Pussy Galore, but also 

performed with Jennifer Herrema in Royal Trux. Following the breakup of Pussy 
Galore in 1988, the two of them lived in various American cities and put out 
several recordings on different tiny indie labels, most notably their present 
label Drag City. They also played a few controversial shows, most notably in San 

Francisco, and some of the American midwest shows were documented on the video 
tape What Is Royal Trux? That brings us up to the current release, simply called 

Royal Trux. Because of the greater distribution afforded by Drag City's 
agreement with Touch and Go records [sic], this record will be the first Trux 
record that will be somewhat easy to find at your local store. Because the song 
structures are becoming somewhat more defined they are at a similiar juncture to 

where Sonic Youth were in 1985 with the release of Bad Moon Rising. 
To put things into context, imagine that the neighbours had done something 
amazing. They took all of that garbage and built it into a time machine. People 
would have to rethink their position. Some people would quit the old 9 to 5, 
sell the BMW and go garbage collecting. Discorder decided it was time to go over 

with a pot of coffee and a plate of cookies, just to get to know Royal Trux a 
little better. 
Discorder: I just listened to your new record and I was quite surprised by the 
riff orientation in some of the songs and even in the acoustic songs like 
"Junkie Nurse." I remember reading an article where you said that with this 
release it is important to be responsible with what you put out, is this part of 

it? 
Neil Hagerty: Yeah, definitely, because people were always slagging us off for 
whatever reason... taking whatever kind of cheap shots they could. So we kind of 

figured we'd have to show 'em we could do either this or that and make it our 
own. Stylistically, everyone was trying to divide everything up, so we just 
wanted to bring everything together. 
"Oh you can't play that kind of music" they'd say... "It's this kind of thing," 
or "Royal Trux is this." We just wanted to say fuck you to that. 
D: From what I've read of the reviews of your previous records, they've been 
somewhat unindicative of what it was I thought you were trying to do. They talk 
about the music only in how they listen to it, because of how they hear it, 
that's all they have to go on...? 
NH: Well, in the end everyone makes up their own mind. 
D: I didn't listen to yourlast album, Twin Infinitives, all the way through when 

I first got it. I was only able to recently. 
NH: It's hard to, it's made to be listened to one side at a time. 
D: Well, the last side I listened to was the long side, the Age-Oven side, and 
in some ways that is my favorite side. But the first time I heard it I started 
from the A-side because I didn't know what I was going to listen to. That was 
the way it made the most impact. Once it has made its impact you are free to 
listen to it however you want. 
NH: Oh, definitely, we made it like that. A lot of people think that if you 
don't read something from A to Z you're going to miss something. 
D: Do you want to talk about the making of that record? 
NH: Well, we did a lot of writing, we worked on it for eight months of studio 
time. 
D: I was also under the impression that there was some noise aspects that were 
worked out on four tracks at home...? 
NH: Yeah, we worked on those ideas for about six months before we started in the 

studio. 
D: So it took fourteen months to create that record? 
NH: Yeah, about that long. 
D: You see, nowhere in any of the reviews I've read did it mention that time 
period. 
NH: Yeah, well, they think we just slapped it together. 
D: I was reminded of a quote that I read Gerald Cosloy (Matador Records owner) 
say about you [sic] first record. He said that if one person thinks that it's 
valid then it should exist. It seems that everyone else that talks about music 
misses the point. Obviously the artist thought it was valid in creating it so 
what anyone else wants to say is secondary. 
NH: Yeah, but you know I'm not sure I actually agree with him because some 
people have a tendancy to want to capture something, keep it for their own. I 
thought a lot about that because at that point we were nobody... we're still 
really not much. 
D: Well, it was in that article in Spin when your first album was the "Platter 
du Jour." That was the first time I had ever heard the name Royal Trux and I 
still remember that article for some reason. 
NH: I think it's just Geralds' [sic] angle because the music industry can really 

suck. Those people put out box sets that no one is ever going to listen to, 
they're just going to buy it and keep it on their shelf. Doing Twin Infinitives 
as a double record is like... it can actually be listened to, it doesn't take 
people into isolation. That's why I said I didn't really agree per se. Music is 
a public and a communal thing. 
D: I think I would totally agree with you when it comes to performing music... 
NH: Yeah, records are more of a private thing. 
D: About the packaging of tht [sic] Twin Infinitives record, on the inside there 

is a collage of something that could be in an album like Derek and the Dominoes' 

Layla or The Rolling Stones' Exile on Main St. Is there an element of satire in 
this and other areas of your work? 
NH: That's a big thing. To make a double LP in an indie situation where it is 
going to be construed as a private act... ego glorification, we wanted to make 
sure there were a lot references to a larger world. As in "Yes we know!" Just 
because it's Eric Clapton in Derek and the dominoes it doesn't give him the 
right to make a sloppy album cover. There's no difference. A lot of that is now 
past, but you know, The Fall, a lot of their album covers were sort of 
anti-graphic. 
D: Totally, they were basically cut up... 
NH: It was cool but it became this thing where you couldn't do that because a 
bigger band had already done that, which sort of defeated the whole intent. But 
if it functions as satire I think it's successful. I'd say the same thing about 
ours, to successful, it confused people. It was sort of like swift getting 
reprimanded for The Modest Proposal. People took it the wrong way, like we were 
these crazed ego maniacs living out this rock and roll fantasy. But that's our 
problem. It doesn't really bea on the record, but to me it says that we were 
successful because people took it seriously. 
D: Now that Drag City is going to be getting wider distribution because of their 

new distribution deal with Touch and Go, what does it mean to you? 
NH: It takes a lot of the pressure off... you know the weird, isolated mad 
genius which is resurgent with Syd Barrett, Skip Spence and Jandek. We wil [sic] 

be a lot freer because we can do satire and it will be seen and heard by more 
people. 
D: How do you think people, like Jandek, will go down in musical history? 
NH: I don't know. I just found out that Joe Pesci made albums. You know Joe 
Pesci, the actor? I don't see why Jandek is any better than Joe Pesci, they both 

decided not to come out into the open. Although I like some Jandek records a 
lot, unfortunately some people say, "Jandek, it's weird and it's a special 
thing... he's from another planet." Yeah, bullshit! Everyone's looking for an 
escape. The fact is we're all here, a bunch of fuckin' apes. That's it and we've 

got to deal with it. 
D: So now you've got this new distribution, a lot of people are going to hear 
the name Royal Trux for the first time. You're on tour with the big band, Sonic 
Youth. So, how did you incorporate those elements into the new record? 
NH: We didn't, because we didn't know. Basically because the record was recorded 

by March and the deal wasn't down then 
D: Nearly all of the reviews I've read make references to this one show that you 

did in San Francisco as being legendary. 
NH: Gerald set it up for us from New York. It was a showcase for his label. 
D: Who else was on the bill? 
NH: Some band called the Toilet Midgets. 
D: Don't you mean the Toiling Midgets? 
NH: No, I'm pretty sure it was the Toilet Midgets. 
D: With Mark Eitzel on vocals? 
NH: No, I know the lead singer's name was Mark Asshole. It was pretty much why 
they had us on there. 
D: So that was your only show in San Francisco and everyone who wants to talk 
about themselves at the same time as writing a review says, "I wish I could have 

seen them in San Fran." 
NH: Well, when they see us now it will be... "When we were there." There was a 
band society in San Francisco that showed up at the show to boycott us, and they 

cornered us in the alley. 
D: Why boycott you? 
NH: Well, you see, we generate a lot of rumours and misinformation. Typical New 
York sense of humour, right? San Francisco... this is where LennyBruce is 
fuckin' from! We had a very bad reputation there so they wanted to shut us down. 

They were very discreet [sic] about it but I wasn't takin' any. Anyways, I 
started screamin' and we almost got in a fight. It was very, very weird because 
it was the kind of thing where we were saying a bunch of stuff, and I guess if 
you took it the wrong way you'd get beat up. We got bottles thrown at us a lot 
but we thought that those were intellectuals from San Francisco, so... who knew? 

D: So, in San Francisco it was basically just you and Jennifer. For this tour 
you've fleshed it out with different players and equipment, but you've always 
used Moogs and other electronics as a part of your sound. 
NH: Well, yeah, whatever works. There are just too many languages of music to 
get stuck doing one thing. 
D: It's interesting that you say there are too many languages of music because I 

was just thinking of that today. Everyone wants to understand someone's language 

of music. I don't understand why! I think it should just be done. It's too 
abstract. 
NH: For sure! That takes all the creepiness out of it! If you just say that it's 

a higher language. It's not your day to day stuff!


Interview with Neil Hagerty
by Lisa Carver
Rollerderby
1992

Lisa: All these people keep telling me stories about Royal Trux, and none of the 
stories match at all. Can you offer any insight as to why people feel the need 
to talk about you and Jennifer, and why everyone comes up with such incongruous 
ideas about you? 
Neil: I really think we got something.... 
Lisa: Are you on downers? 
Neil: Yeah. 
Lisa: You sound it. Last night you were so enthusiastic, and now you sound 
slow-motion. 
Neil: Yeah, I was off yesterday.... I'm also speaking in a measured voice right 
now because I want to be careful about what I say. 
Lisa: Why? 
Neil: Did you read the Royal Trux thing in The Voice? 
Lisa: No. 
Neil: The Voice is just one of those things, like Karl Marx or the Don't Tread 
On Me flag. The Village Voice staff from 1970. The way I see it, there's a 
certain force operating underneath social life. To me. Royal Trux is like the 
trip, like the word life. It's like, I'm on a Royal Trux.
[A conversation here about communism and its connection to the Don't Tread On Me 
flag too confusing to transcribe.] 
Lisa: You speak in signifiers. Could you try to go back to the basic ideas 
instead of what you've worked out in your brain for what everything means? 
Because what you've worked out will probably translate in other persons' brains 
back down to totally different basics. You know what I mean? 
Neil: Right, but that's what Royal Trux is about... the conduit from central 
nervous system to central nervous system. 
Lisa: From your central nervous system to the public's? 
Neil: Well I guess unfortunately that's the situation, because we've taken up 
the position of being a band and shit. See, I never buy anything. I don't 
believe in it. But I like anything. Does that seem contradictory? 
Lisa: Not at all. I'm impressed that you've boiled everything down to 
signifiers... it's poetry... but I also think no one's going to get it. You 
know, nobody. 
Neil: That's why I'm in this rehab. I didn't make any money. 
Lisa: Are you saying you're too sophisticated to appeal to enough people to make 
money? 
Neil: We haven't tried yet. 
Lisa: Are you a heroin addict? 
Neil: Yes. 
Lisa: How do you support your habit? 
Neil: B & E [breaking and entering]. I'm in here because I got caught. My 
partner was going to turn me in. 
Lisa: I'm sorry to hear your voice so blurred like this, drugged. 
Neil: Really? I like 'em. 
Lisa: I guess if you're a heroin addict, you're gonna like downers and being in 
the hospital. 
Neil: [laughing] Yeah. I'm the kind of person who will try to find 
constrictive.... 
Lisa: You like to be constricted? 
Neil: No, I don't like it at all. But I like to search out certain places.... 
I'll go and do things that will get me in trouble, just to push against things. 
Lisa: Is it true that you got the highest mark ever in the history of the 
computer school you applied to? 
Neil: That's what they said, yeah, 
Lisa: And then you got kicked out. 
Neil: Yeah. 
Lisa: Why? 
Neil: Tardiness. You can't miss more than eight hours. 
Lisa: Are you allergic to the sun? 
Neil: No, I like the sun. I like to look at the sun through windows more than 
being outside. I like the beach in winter. Coney Island, man, we used to go out 
there a lot, just drunk as fuck. 
Lisa: I heard you said "fuck you" to a professor and that's why you got kicked 
out. 
Neil: Uh...I don't know. Well, I did, yeah, but it wasn't anything. 
Lisa: So after you got kicked out of school, your parents kicked you out of 
their house. 
Neil: Well yeah. I gotta go take a medicinebreak. 
Lisa: What medicine? 
Neil: Antiprox. 
Later... 
Neil: I've been thinking about what you said, not being able to be basic... I 
hope it doesn't get in the way of making good music. 
Lisa: I don't think it's possible to be truly basic. It's just that you... both 
privately and in Royal Trux I mean... don't use a vulgar set of signifiers. For 
instance, if you read Maximum Rock-n-Roll, its readers and writers use the same 
set of signifiers and they all believe that this is reality, and that --- "If 
you like working on cars, you'll like Royal Trux Twin Infinitives.' - Mel B. -- 
they are actually communicating this reality, directly from brain to brain. 
Neil: That, to me, is frightening. It's so simple. Life is so much better when 
it's chaotic instead of things being chaotic and people ignoring it and latching 

onto signifiers. 
Lisa: How do you feel now? 
Neil: I feel a little up. I drank some coca cola. 
Lisa: Did you ever answer my first question as to why people have such 
incongruous ideas about you? 
Neil: That's part of my idea of what Royal Trux is... just a long journey. It 
sucks to get caught along the way, but this is only a couple weeks and then 
we're off again, man, you know? 
Lisa: What's the longest you've ever stayed in one place? 
Neil: We had the same apartment in San Francisco for 14 months. 
Lisa: But you've basically been a nomad. 
Neil: Definitely. 
Lisa: Does the constant upheaval keep your mind and music from congealing? 
Neil: Totally, man. That's the whole point. I don't wanna get trapped in 
anything. That's why heroin is such a funny thing, you know. It's the whole 
slave thing, you know. When we were in San Francisco, we couldn't even make it 
across the bridge to Oakland without bringing a gram of dope with us because, 
you know, we were that strung out, and that makes us a slave and all that shit. 
Lisa: How did you get to that point? 
Neil: When I was 13,1 went to see Queen. A friend of mine's older brother was 
our chaperone, and he cut some coke, some heroin. Jack Daniels, hash, acid. 
Lisa: All together? 
Neil: Yeah man, it was a great concert. 
Lisa: And from then on you thought drugs were great. 
Neil: Yeah. 
Lisa: Aren't you afraid that pleasure and debauchery will mess up your 
dedication to art? 
Neil: No. Like you said, you know... move around. Living is pain. 
Lisa: What does that have to do with your music? 
Neil: Everything. 
Lisa: Is your music an antidote? A reflection? 
Neil: A bulldozer. It's communication. I put everything in it. 
Lisa: Is it the most important thing in your life? 
Neil: Yeah. Absolutely. I would die.... 
Lisa: How old are you? 
Neil: 26. 
Lisa: Oh, that's young. 
Neil: Axl Rose is 29. 
Lisa: You've done quite a lot for a 26-year-old man. 
Neil: Thanks. Is there any dope in New Hampshire? 
Lisa: Not really. Some anonymous person from L.A. just sent me an envelope full 
of acid, but that's the only drug I've seen in a long time. 
NeilL: I can't even take acid anymore. It doesn't work anymore. I get a little 
physical sensation but that's it. You know, Aerosmith is from New Hampshire. 
Lisa: Yeah... my mother taught French to one of them. He was really shy and 
nice. 
Neil: Have you ever heard of Martin Amis? 
Lisa: No. 
Neil: He's this British author. He wrote this book Time's Arrow. The narrator's 
this Doppelganger, he's inside this guy. Everything's going backwards. It's very 

funny, you know - a funeral in reverse, described by the man's second soul. 
Lisa: How many times have you played live as Royal Trux? 
Neil: I'd say about 30. 
Lisa: Do you feel that you're saying what you want to say [with live music] and 
people are perceiving it as what it is? 
Neil: No, we haven't even tried to do it yet, really. 
Lisa: You've played 30 times but you haven't tried to say what you want to say? 
Neil: No. 
Lisa: Would it be correct to say you're always looking forward and always 
denying or detracting your past records and shows: that it's all a joke? Do you 
think you ever will do the "real" thing? Is it possible? 
Neil: That whole paradigm is what I'm working against, I think. A lot of people 
say I'm not accepting life, I'm not realistic. 
Lisa: What is it you've been saying those 30 times you played? 
Neil: That what we're playing at this point doesn't mean a damn thing and that 
the audience better get off their butts, you know? 
Lisa: What should they do once they're off their butts? 
Neil: I don't know. 
Lisa: Demand more? 
Neil: Just whatever, man. The French philosopher Levy says that the idea of the 
prophetic philosopher is dead. The philosopher's job is to check the symbols. 
We're gonna look at life, we're gonna take the symbols and we're gonna destroy 
them. 
Lisa: Earlier [not recorded] you were talking about fucking up your shows. What 
specifically do you do? 
Neil: Well, like change the set list at the last minute to songs we've never 
rehearsed, and just seea little reaction will take place in the band, something 
will happen that wasn't planned. 
Lisa: So you're shooting for chaos. 
Neil: Yeah. And that is ironic... it's like, "shooting for chaos," you know, 
it's absurd, man. 
Lisa: Yeah. 
Neil: So far I think we've made progress in being able to communicate directly 
from us, through instruments and voices. It's not like a one-way thing. Two-way 
interactive software, shit like that. So we're on a Royal Trux towards that 
goal. So, everything we do is validated, because it's a noble goal. I want 
people to not get too crazy about Royal Trux, forget about it, keep it in the 
back of their minds maybe, and, you know, connect with the right people rather 
than have people connect with the signifiers and have the signifiers connect to 
us. I've made a conscious effort to... and I do this in my personal life as 
well... to try to not get trapped. 
Lisa: What does rock and roll mean to you? 
Neil: The energy. 
Lisa: Can't you find that in, say, country and western? 
Neil: Yeah, Randy Travis's voice gives it to me partly. That's why it's 
correlated to drugs... you get your PDR [Physician's Desk Reference] and you can 

get what you want when you want it. You know, mix and match. Some of what we 
have done as Royal Trux isn't a joke because some of it has been there. I've had 

epiphanies at rock shows, and not always on drugs. But I've also had, you know, 
epiphanies taking a piss. 
Lisa: What's going on with the next album? 
Neil: For about a week I thought I was never going to see Jennifer again. I 
detoxed briefly... I was getting fucking drunk, I was shooting a lot of coke 
and, you know, they had to carry me down the stairs. 
Lisa: You can get a heart attack doing that. 
Neil: I know, but I have a stro-o-ong constitution. 
Lisa: Me, too. 
[Talk about why the next RTX record is only half-done] 
Neil: This fucking weasel [engineer] named Greg Freeman... it's like, you go 
into the studio and it was over, it was done, it was history. It was another 
dead culture right there. These people, they got their tombstone already made 
up. That's what they call lifestyle or identity. 
Lisa: Sound engineers? 
Neil: Everybody. 
Lisa: Including yourself? 
Neil: No. Not you, either. 
Lisa: Thank you. 
Neil: We didn't make a lot of friends in San Francisco. We had to leave the city 

'cause things were falling apart and closing in on us and stuff. 
Lisa: A guy from Thinking Fellers said you were yelling about money at a show 
there. 
Neil: Oh yeah. God, that was so funny, man. I hadn't been in a fight in years. 
Lisa: Did you punch anyone out? 
Neil: No, you know what I did-I swung, and he hit my hand away and it hit 
Jennifer in the head. Right in the nose. 
Lisa: I love those kinds of fights, where you swing at one person and then end 
up hitting your girlfriend in the nose. 
Neil: It was ridiculous. Yeah, she dove in- she was trying to stop the fight. 
So, that was gonna be the showthe arguing. 
Lisa: Do you like fights? 
Neil: I'd say no right now. But it could happen. 
Lisa: I like fights. 
Neil: That's why there's boxing. 
Lisa: Boxing is too controlled. 
Neil: People deal with pain by explaining it, you know what I'm saying? 
Lisa: Maybe if I had had one extra cup of coffee I would. 
Neil: You know, there's two forces at work here. We have a man and a woman here. 

As far as biological entrapment, we've got that. Just basic biology. That's it. 
There's a lot of songs like "Lose The Skin." Aw, man, there's so many things 
going out of my head, going off your head. 
Lisa: Huh? 
Neil: It comes down to the same thing, you know... real biological entrapment is 

standing in the way of central nervous system contact, truly. Telepathy. 
Lisa: Someone said that there's a man and a woman in every brain... 
Neil: Definitely, yeah. 
Lisa: ...and the female part dominates the female, and the male part the male, 
but I feel that the male part in me is stronger, because I'm more analytical 
than receptive and caring. 
Neil: That's intellectual, but to me that's on a level of horoscopes. Any kind 
of rationality is like walking a tightrope. What you said makes perfect sense... 

it's a dialectic we could take up, we could agree on. Through will I can believe 

anything I want to, and there's no answers. 
Lisa: As for the rationality... I'm interviewing you right now, so that's what 
I'm after: something basic. That doesn't mean you have to give it to me. 
Neil: I see. I've always been a celebrity- watching person. Some people are good 

with tools and they do work and they have a life. My life has been in the 
electronic media, and the acoustic media too, I guess. So, like you say, I speak 

in signifiers. It's like advertising something that I can't quite give to you. 
Not you, but the audience. Like Motley Crue just can't give. Royal Trux just 
can't give, that which is themselves. And if you think of Christ as a central, 
functional principal in American life.... I mean, if you know of another 
sacrifice myth that's better.... 
Lisa: What's the last job you had? 
Neil: I was working for Outreach raising money over the phone for rain forests 
in California. I worked for a few nights, and then I moved in with this chick 
for about a week. 
Lisa: You moved in with a chick? What happened to Jennifer? 
Neil: Uh, she was just running around. She went into detox. I'm an adaptive 
person. You know, you gotta eat.... 
Lisa: Have I been too nosy? 
Neil: No, it's definitely important. We've been together a long time... eight 
years. When we're together, we're always working, you know? 
Lisa: In your interview in Bananafish it appears that you're badgering Jennifer 
into submission. 
Neil: I never saw that interview. He [Seymour Glass] was over there, maybe the 
dope wasn't that good that day.... Like you said, I was badgering Jennifer... 
you know, I'm trying to make a Royal Trux to something I felt once and have felt 

since. 
Lisa: You made an image out of it. 
Neil: Yeah, if you accept that we're making images and selling them. 
Lisa: Did Jennifer come up with the idea of playing the victim, or was the whole 

thing orchestrated by you? 
Neil: I don't remember. 
Lisa: I haven't seen the What Is Royal Trux video. What's it about? 
Neil: It's Royal Trux, you know. Some people will get it, some people won't. The 

people that'll get it are the people that should get it, and will move on, you 
know. It's like, we're going to have a small following, it's got to be just the 
right people, so we gotta send out these definite signals where we attract the 
right people and repulse the right people 
Lisa: But in that Bananafish interview you said you wanted to go beyond this 
little clique of, uh, indie music lovers. 
Neil: Right. I said that to Seymour. 
Lisa: Oh. Were you lying? 
Neil: No, I was talking to him, man. 
Lisa: The truth is different with every person you speak to? 
Neil: I think so, yeah. 
Lisa: Me, too. You play keyboards? 
Jennifer: No. I twirl knobs and shit on the Moog. I just listen to the sounds 
and, you know, there's certain things you can do to make it come up the same 
every time, a lot of space sounds, kinda wild shit. The double seven-inch [on 
Vertical Records], I wrote that while Neil was on tour with Pussy Galore. I was 
playing five-string guitar, regular tuning but tuned real low. I just wrote all 
the guitar parts as simply as possible and showed them to Neil and he just went 
off with them. 
Lisa: What was your first band? 
Jennifer: Man... I've played with a lot of different people, never anything that 

I would call a band, just people floating in and out. RTX I wouldn't consider a 
band. 
Lisa: What is it? 
Jennifer: I mean, of course it's a band because it's, you know, people playing 
music. It's been years, really, I completely stopped listening to anything. The 
only kind of music I'll listen to right now is rap music, and that's all. 
Because I find that subconsciously, and a lot of times consciously, people are 
not thinking of the potential for turning people on. Too much of the music is so 

much the same. There's not a lot of things that really stick out. The whole 
genre... underground thing, whatever- all the bands have more similarities than 
dissimilarities. You can slot almost all the bands that I've heard. I think they 

wanted to be slotted-then people know what to say about you, they know what to 
write about it. To be tagged or slotted is instant death, I think, if not in 
terms of sales or fans or whatever, it's instant death for us. I think that thus 

far we've done a pretty good job of not building up an RTX sound. 
Lisa: Or a regular performance style? 
Jennifer: Exactly. I guess when people go to a club and pay to see a band, they 
expect the band to get up and play song after song and they're supposed to be 
tight, they're supposed to sound as much like their records as possible, and I 
just think it's really boring. We don't rehearse for shows. We do it the way our 

last memory of the song is. Sometimes I remember it in my head differently than 
Neil. Like the groove I've got might be a lot slower, and I won't change for 
him. I just go my own way, I will actually block Neil out completely and almost 
feel like I'm doing a solo show until maybe all of a sudden something totally 
kicks in where we're right on time together, then it brings in, you know, a 
total flow. 
Lisa: How did you work together to make the What Is Royal Trux? video? 
Jennifer: When we were editing it, there were a lot of scenes that I would have 
liked to have kept that he wanted cut, and we had to compromise. Pretty much he 
got over on me [laughs]... he got more of what he wanted because I was at a 
disadvantage. He was there the whole time we spent in the studio editing, maybe 
nine hours, and I was out running around Chicago trying to score drugs. So I 
would come back in and he would have made a bunch of decisions while I was gone. 

Taking it scene by scene, I would get pissed off, but ultimately it worked out 
pretty coherently. It turned out real well. 
Lisa: How old were you when you started doing drugs? 
Jennifer: 12. 
Lisa: What is the best and the worst thing about go-go dancing? 
Jennifer: As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing bad about it. I like it. But 
you have to take into account the club you're working in and the types of 
customers you have. For a while I was working in a real rich neighborhood and 
most of the customers were, you know, lawyers in suits and ties, total white 
majority with a lot of money. It took them a while to get used to me because 
most of the girls who danced there were real conservative in terms of the way 
they carried themselves and the way they dressed "very subdued, simple lingerie. 

Their movements were very stiff, like runway modeling. Working there was really 
good for money, but it was really boring, so I quit there. Now I work in an 
all-black club... I'm the only white person there... and it's a totally 
different scene. The music is all important. You put on a real show, everybody 
really dances, you're free to do whatever you want with your body, you can touch 

yourself. You're really performing. The money is like half the money I was 
making downtown... last Friday night I made $160 instead of maybe $250 or $400 
for an eight-hour shift... but I made a decision to change because it's a lot 
more fun. 
Lisa: What's your favorite outfit? 
Jennifer: Oh, I don't know, it depends on my mood. I have a bunch of stuff. I 
like these black thigh-high spandex boots... they're four-inch heels, 
four-and-a-half inch heels. 
Lisa: Wow... you can dance in four-and-a-half inch heels? 
Jennifer: At first it was hard, but now I can do anything in heels. I wear 
sequin garters, a black leather G-string with metal studs all over it, and this 
jacket... it's got a zipper down the front, it's kind of like a scuba jacket but 

the arms are loose fishnet. 
Lisa: That sounds nice. What do you think of Cristina from Boss Hog's 
description of you as a Neil Jr.? 
Jennifer: Well, I'm not exactly sure what she intended when she said that. I 
mean, I've lived with Neil since I was 15 years old and we spend all of our time 

together, so we have a lot of similarities. But we're also real different. I 
mean, number one, I'm female, he's male. Our personalities are pretty different. 

I would consider myself more outgoing, or I have the ability to be a lot more 
functional in just basic society. Neil becomes a lot more introverted in crowds, 

but if put on the spot I can really deal with almost any type of person. Neil, 
whether or not he can, he won't. That's why he won't work a job. He doesn't like 

to change for anything, really. 
Lisa: Neil said you manipulate; you said [elsewhere] you don't. Do you? 
Jennifer: Yeah. Neil and I, on almost every occasion, if we're together, we're 
like a tag team. I can predict almost everything Neil's gonna do. We just kind 
of play off each other like that... we just come up with ideas and scenarios and 

the way we're gonna present things. 
Lisa: What did you plan for this interview? 
Jennifer: Nothing. I hadn't even talked to Neil until last night, and he said he 

was just gonna talk to you. I don't even know at all what he said to you. 
Lisa: It seems like it's difficult for Neil to finish explaining one idea 
because so many others are crowding in. 
Jennifer: Yeah. Sometimes just for him to get an idea across... even to me, and 
I can usually read a lot into what he's saying to make it a whole idea-on very 
frequent occasions he'll start off talking and really won't stop for literally 
ten to 12 hours. 
Lisa: Both of you seem to think on several levels at once, though you're more 
cohesive. It reminds me of schizophrenia. 
Jennifer: Yeah, that's what my father always says to me jokingly. He says if I'm 

high I've got like two different personalities; if I'm not high there's about 
five. One time he just started listing them all off. It was pretty amusing. 
Lisa: Where are you? 
Jennifer: Right now I'm at my father's [in D.C.]. I've been here a week. In the 
next few days I'm gonna leave and go stay with a friend of mine. Neil and I were 

staying in different hotels for about a month. I might do that again 'cause it's 

cheap and it's really nice. Get color cable TV. You don't have to worry about 
deposits and all that shit. 
Lisa: Do you have possessions, you know, stereo? 
Jennifer: Man, not too much. We had all that stuff. We left everything in 
California when we left there; we left everything in New York when we left 
there. It's easy. I like it better that way.


1 9 9 3 

Royal Trux
by Marc Masters
Crank, issue 3
Spring 1993

Royal Trux consists of Neil Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema. Their first record, 
Royal Trux, was self-released in 1988 and reviewed in tandem with Daydream 
Nation in a spin dialogue between Joey Levy, Robert Christgau, and Gerald Cosloy 
in which the idiot with the tape recorder kept hitting pause whenever the Dick 
of American Rock Critics wasn't talking. In 1990 Drag City released Twin 
Infinitives, which in an era of double albums (Sebadoh III, Sun City Girls Live 
From Planet Boomerang, Thinking Fellers Union Mother of All Saints) is the 
greatest double album of its era. 
Royal Trux then got money from Matador to record Royal Trux III, but spent it 
before they could finish the record. In 1992 Drag City released a 3rd album also 
called Royal Trux, a epic [sic] on the pleasures/paranoias of never having 
to/never being able to know what time it is. Its everyone-else-is-asleep 
spareseness is a total contrast to the dense psychotics of Twin Infinitives and 
has prompted a few to compare it to the Rolling Stones, which is like trying to 
pass a pile of slightly-sweet vomit off as flowers (hey, smells more like 
flowers than that regular pile of vomit), but I prefer puke to daisies, 
musically speaking. Either way I hate the fucking Rolling Stones. 
Drag City will release a new Royal Trux LP and a reissue of the first sometime 
this year. Matador plans a live album. Both Crank will doubtles recall the 
interview in issue #2 in which Hugh from the Thinking Fellers related the story 
of a near fist-fight between TFU and RTX at a Matador show in S.F., CA. I 
avoided formal discussion of this with Neil since I don't see much potential joy 
in flanning flames between what at certain times of the day are my two favorite 
bands. Sorry. 
Crank: Things seem really structured for you guys now. Interviews, touring, you 
haven't really done that much before. 
Neil: Well, we could've, if we'd gotten the gigs. We just did one-off gigs, 
whatever. I'm not really good at setting up tours without someone to help us. 
Crank: Why's the album self-titled? 
Neil: I don't know, that's just the way it ended up. Can't remember how it 
happened. 
Crank: Did it mess you up not being able to put out Royal Trux III? 
Neil: No, most of the songs on this new record are the same. It's just another 
session. We had more time. 
Crank: What's different about it? 
Neil: Musically, you know, physically, it was all the same process. The way we 
did it was the same way we did all the others, the main thing was to, well, with 
Twin Infinitives a lot of people didn't really think of it as songs. So we 
thought we should really strip it down and make the songs the focus.. 
Crank: Compared to the stuff on Twin Infinitives, do the newer songs make sense 
in the same way as those did? 
Neil: Well, yeah, they do, because... well, I was there. It's like an elevated 
sort of language, it's pristine like any other sort of art work. It says the 
same thing. There's obvious difference and all that. I'm not gonna say there's 
not. 
Crank: Sure, it's just that on Twin Infinitives I find myself hearing the entire 
sound where on the new one I latch on to particular notes or riffs. 
Neil: Well, try that on Twin Infinitives. 
Crank: Is it harder to keep the new songs from sounding the same on stage? 
Neil: The whole trip on that was, to get those as songs. To say, well, if this 
is a song, we should be able to do it any which way. It was the same songs, we 
didn't skip over the lyrics, or like make it, like, this song is a fast one. It 
was the song and what the song was trying to get over, so it worked. It makes it 
harder, but we did what we had to do and we used the songs to do it. 
Crank: Does each song have one thing that you think has to be done for it to be 
that song? 
Neil: Well, it sort of transfers from one group to another. Usually it's a chord 
progression but that changes a lot. After a while everybody's so in tune to 
what's happening at that time, that you find you have all this room. The thing 
I'd thought was the key to that song is suddenly gone, but it's still working. 
It's sort of like learning. Cause shit, it would just suck to do something right 
and just keep doing it. Wanna try to stretch, I mean, come on. If it doesn't 
work we drop it, there's always stuff we can fall back on. We're not going to go 
out there like, "This is an experiment. Do not move. Do not applaud." 
Crank: Do you ever feel lost on stage? 
Neil: No, but I mean, I always feel lost. It's just the weirdest fucking thing. 
Sometimes I feel out of control, on a bad day, but then I listen to a tape of 
it, and it's like, 'That sounds really fucking good." So it gives me a little 
more confidence. That's what I mean by growing. That's why tape devices are 
good. It has very little to do with the conscious, the little teletype running 
through the mind thing. 
Crank: I've heard you say you're "on a Royal Trux," what's that? 
Neil: I think about that a lot, the name, it's not like an image. Like "Helmet," 
it's like bang-bang-bang, you know what that's going to be. It's sort of like, 
to give us a little leeway. I don't like when bands do false advertising, 
promise something and don't deliver, so it's to give us a little slack, a vague 
name for a band people may have some vague feeling towards. 
Crank: Is there a difference between the music and you, is it too close? 
Neil: No, there's definitely a division, it's like my work or whatever. That may 
just be a defense mechanism. I don't think about that much. 
Crank: Do you ever feel like you're just going through the motions on stage? 
Neil: Well, like I said, even if some night I'm just going through the motions, 
who knows, maybe it'll be cool. That whole thing is more of like a writer's 
thing, a consumerist thing, "These people don't care. Buy this band; they care." 

Crank: Any danger of running out of ideas? 
Neil: Oh yeah, but that's almost irrelevant, cause it's a physical thing, it's 
not much of a mental thing, music is like way down, in the electrical aspect of 
the brain. Sometimes I'll hear about somebody who's afraid of dryng up, and I'll 
think, "wow, that's really weird, what's that all about?" But when it's time to 
play I just get that out of my mind. 
Crank: The lyrics are easier to hear this time. 
Neil: Since we started I really wanted to be a lyric band, as far as the records 
went. So it'd be like, sometimes when the music doesn't do it for you you could 
get off on the lyrics. but not to make it too programmatic, where it sounds like 
didactic. 
Crank: In your best songs the lyrics sound made up on the spot. 
Neil: Well, they were made up on the spot at some point or other. That's the big 
thing, part of the whole Royal Trux idea, stay loose, keep moving and grooving. 
That's a good sign if that's what you get from it, then we did OK. 
Crank: Is there any specific thing that defines the band, that if it wasn't 
around the band would stop? 
Neil: No. Spiritually I guess so. Being a band is like a fight against loosing 
that thing. If we lost the battle with ourselves or with whatever, yeah, then 
the whole thing would fall apart. Something would happen that would end it, you 
know, whatever. I just trust it, in it happening. Rather than nothing happening, 
something happening. And it just goes on. That's the way it is. But it's not 
like, 'It's no fun anymore, let's pack it in" or some kind of punk rock thing. 
If we don't make money or we make money, if you hate us or love us, whatever, it 
still goes on. We suck or we're good, it still goes on. 
Crank: So this is permanent. 
Neil: I don't see how I could get off it. It's, you know, Royal Trux. I guess I 
thought once, maybe we should change the name. But that's stupid, times change 
so much. You go from one city to the next, you pass through the years, why be 
fascistic about it/ 
Crank; In the Bananafish interview you seemed to have really set goals about the 
band. 
Neil: Well, up until these interviews we're doing now, every interview has been 
about the interview thing, like, "what is an interview?" It was like, it's just 
publicity, so I'm better off just saying a bunch of bullshit. Now, I don't know, 
I'm less antagonistic toward writers, which is a personal thing. I don't even 
remember what I said anyway. 
Crank: It just seemed like there was a plan, stories behind all the songs. 
Neil: Oh yeah, that's all there, sure. But it's not like we have a file cabinet. 
It also had to do with the reaction to Twin Infinitives, being so, "It's so far 
out." That record made sense to us. I was afraid I was truly losing my grip on 
reality. So I got Seymour, I said, "Seymour, listen, I really know what I'm 
doing, I'm not insane." That was pretty antagonistic. So it's a funny interview. 
But you know, dot dot dot. 
Crank: You're planning a live album? 
Neil: Yeah, we owe Matador a record, and since we've had so many live lineups, 
we've just ben taping shows all year. It'll be old songs from all the records 
done with the sme lineup, so it'll be worth listening to. 
Crank: From one show? 
Neil: No. 
Crank: But all with the same lineup. 
Neil: Well... no. It'll be the songs taken from the records so the records are 
worth something because of what they do with the songs, and he live stuff is 
worth something because of what that does with the songs. We could do covers, 
but why bother, we want to write songs. it's not like, this is a country song 
let's play like a country band. 
Crank: What do you do when you're not playing? Follow baseball? 
Neil: No, I haven't been able to. The Baltimore Orioles were moving up, I was 
born in Baltimore. I like the Mets too, the year I moved to New York the Mets 
won the series. I was really psyched. But in the middle of the season I totally 
tune out. I'm just not interested in seeing the statistics accumulate. Some 
people really get off on that, but music does that kind of thing for me. I watch 
football. I like soccer, get that on cable. I go see movies, watch TV, read. It 
all goes into the music. Like "Yin Jim vs. The vomit Creature," that song I was 
explaining to Seymour, it's like how to turn something so weird into a cheap 
sci-fi plot, or just like tell it like a story, like an aural, a programmatic 
sort of tune. Like, what's the fucking song, I can't remember it now. "Attack of 
the Giant Hog Weeds," like some genesis or something. You know that song? 
Crank: No, is it one of yours? 
Neil: No, no, it's an old Genesis song. There's lots of musical breaks that are 
supposed to depict something happening and it's just a bunch of crap. Music is 
just another one of those things you plug into, so is TV, every one has its own 
particular use and function. 
Crank: So does life ever turn into music research, collecting stuff for songs. 
Neil: No, because I try and it doesn't work. I'll say, you know, maybe I should 
try to do this to get experience, but then I never get around to it. My natural 
laziness kicks in, I just don't have the stamina. I think that's bullshit 
anyway. I've actually heard people say, "I did this for an experience, I just 
wanted all the experience I could possibly handle." shit, breathing is exercise 
enough, just the fact that your lungs are doing what they do trips me out. What 
more do you need, do you want to go have sex with a thousand people? Whatever. 
I'm not saying that that's bad. 
Crank: Me neither. 
Neil: I mean, there's particulars. some people have a knack. But, lungs are 
something you could study forever, that's experience. 12 year old kids can write 
great songs, never having done any of the things they're talking about. A lot of 
it's structural. 
Crank: Do you ever sit down and say, "I'm writing a song now"? 
Neil: Yeah, and then I get up and I go outside. 


Interview with Royal Trux
by Chris Palmatier
Stay Free!, issue 3
September 1993 

This is an interview with Royal Trux. It was conducted by Chris Palmatier when 
the band played Local 506 in the dead of summer. Unfortunately, Chris skipped 
town without writing the intro and I have other pages to deal with. Royal Trux 
is a modern blues rock band. Check out their new Cats and Dogs LP on Drag City. 
It is very good. Very. 
SF!: Where is home for Royal Trux at this point? California? New York? 
J: Right now we don't have an apartment. We were in Europe before we started 
these Lollapalooza (second stage) shows. . . When we're done with these shows at 

the end of November, we'll try to find place to stay. 
SF!: Where was everyone originally from, then? How did RT get together? 
J: I met Neil in DC. He was playing in a band there, the Jet Boys of Northwest, 
when I was in high school. We started playing together and he joined Pussy 
Galore in DC, and we all moved to NYC. 
SF!: So was the first RT record in the planning stages while Neil was still in 
Pussy Galore? 
J: Yeah, but it wasn't being recorded yet, not until after he quit. The songs 
were being rehearsed for a long time while he was in Pussy Galore. 
SF!: How did you get hooked up with Drag City Records after your first album? 
J: After Dan was doing stuff for some distributor, he got our first record and 
was looking to start a record label, and he wanted us to be the first band he 
did. So he gave us a call and we were like, "Yeah, sure," and we recorded Hero 
Zero and Love Is... for the first 7". Then we did a short tour where we recorded 

a movie (Twin Infinitives) and first met Dan. We liked him and liked doing the 
7" and Twin Infinitives with him, so we've been working together ever since. 
SF!: Have you gotten any interest from other labels? 
J: Yeah, when Twin Infinitives came out, we signed a contract with Matador, 
which didn't mean we couldn't continue to work with Drag City. It was a contract 

for a couple albums. They gave us an advance and we never recorded an album for 
them, so contractually we still own them an album. In the past year, we got it 
together to record a live album for them, so that should be cool and that would 
take care of our contractual obligation. 
SF!: I know RT started as a duo, and the last time you were in Chapel Hill, 
there were three of you. Where did the second guitarist and the keyboardist come 

from? 
N: Well, we went down to Gainesville, Florida and met the other guitar player 
down there. He's just this weird guy who lives in Florida, which is really, 
really, harsh, you know? He's a very individualistic type of guy, who listens to 

all that... well, Forced Exposure really formed his musical outlook. He's really 

young - like 22. Well, not that young, I guess, but I'm 27 so... He came up to 
us really wasted and told us he had a place we could stay. He had a lot of 
really cool records and this huge stereo and we were listening to records and we 

just asked him to join our band. He met up with us a week later. We never played 

with him, it was just based on his whole desire to do something. But now it's 
getting kind of pat, predictable... He doesn't live with us, you know. We all 
live up in DC. The keyboard player does. The drummer lives in Kansas, so they 
all live in their home states. There's a lot of scheduling involved. 
SF!: So did the drummer and keyboardist do their own bands at all? 
N: The drummer we found on the same tour, playing in his own bands. He was in in 

both bands that opened up for us. One was like a free, Sonic Youth-influenced 
band. The other was a static, sort of Spiritualized type of hypnotic thing. We 
got his number and just called him on a whim and he did the whole record. But I 
don't know what he does. I think he sells pot or something... The "contract" is 
that we provide them with the opportunity, and it's up to them whether to do it.
SF!: How many of them are on the new record? 
N: The drummer and the guitar player and the engineer. I did the keyboards. 
SF!: I guess this question gets old, but what do you see as your major 
influences? Blues, obviously... 
N: Yeah, kinda second hand - via Rolling Stones. Other guys, like Robert 
Johnson, the pure stuff. Not so much the Chicago big band blues, but small 
bands, like old Buddy Guy. Records are my main influence, really, more than live 

music. 
SF!: Was there one record that made you want to play? 
N: Probably Loaded, the Velvet Underground record. It came out of something 
different. That and Marquee Moon (by Television). It was like, "I really 
understand this." I grew up in the suburbs, y'know around DC. I had a few 
friends who were into the Dead, Tangerine Dream, old Pink Floyd, the Ventures, 
who are another big influence on me, too. And Duane Eddy. I took (guitar) 
lessons a long time, so it was like I was a "shiftless youth". My mom made me go 

and do shit, because there wasn't anything to do. 
SF!: Since you were in the area, did you know any of the people involved in the 
growing hardcore scene up there? 
N: Nah, I knew and saw Void a lot, but I always thought it was kinda stupid. 
Mike, our keyboard player was in Rites of Spring. He was their bass player. He 
and Jennifer knew each other for a long time; she used to see all those bands 
because she lived in the city. That was an in-town thing, mostly people from 
Georgetown, rich kids basically, and I thought that sucked. It was an elitist 
thing. 
SF!: Well, you notice here it seems like a lot of the kids who are into that are 

rich kids, so... 
N: Well, yeah, that always made me think like "hmm", but the Velvet Underground 
had all that support of those wealthy people. 
SF!: I guess Dan Koretzky (Drag City) isn't that wealthy. 
N: No. He doesn't make much money but he spends a lot of time working, like 
without expenses, but keeping it at a comfortable level. That's what inspired me 

more than any scene. We avoided it actively; even in New York it seemed as 
though we became too known so we had to tour. 
SF! Did anything like that have to do with why Pussy Galore broke up? 
N: I don't know. When I joined the band, I just wanted the experience. I was 
never in pursuit of a certain standard of living. These guys came along, doing 
the band and so I just did some riffs or whatever, and it didn't matter to me at 

all. I left and moved to San Francisco to do this thing, a real band, or what I 
thought would be real. Because Pussy Galore was a dead end. They kept going and 
there was a chance to do another record and make some money, so I did that... It 

was just a big mind game the whole time and I just kinda leeched off them. 
SF!: So it was a tool? 
N: Yeah, but it really didn't go anywhere. It seems really stupid to me to be 
like "we are going to be big rock stars" and then we didn't make it, so it seems 

pathetic. But it's cool when it happens, like these Lollapalooza shows, like 
"Hey - I saw this band on TV!" 
SF! Speaking of TV, there was a rumor that RT is in a Snapple commercial. 
N: Yeah, these guys in leather jackets. Royal Bust of something. It's funny how 
rumors get started. 
SF! So what's the worst rumor you guys ever started? 
N: Well, the worst we didn't even start. It was like "Neil has AIDS", because we 

were in San Francisco away from NYC and people started saying I had AIDS. We 
didn't try to stop it, though. There was one where me and my roommate, he had a 
gun and we were trying to score and we got busted; he had the dope so I took the 

gun cause they wouldn't search me cause he was copping. We said that they ended 
up searching both of us, so I got sentenced to some some months in prison. 
Meanwhile, Jennifer was sick and was being a prostitute the whole time I was in 
prison. 
SF!: People believed that? 
N: Yeah. I was calling somebody to get some royalty money and they wouldn't pay. 

I was like, "Look, I really need it so I can bail myself out of jail." One thing 

led to another and there was this whole story. But we stopped doing that. Now 
people start doing it about us, like the same questions every time. "Aren't you 
supposed to do a record for Matador?" So we have this story we tell. People do 
it all the time. 
SF!: The price of fame. What's the story with these Lollapalooza shows. How did 
you get hooked up? 
N: We were on a list. We weren't even thinking about it. We sent them some 
records and they were like, "We really, really want you," and then it was . . . 
we were going to do ten shows. We had no clout. It's all this committee out in 
L.A. It centers on Perry Farrell. From what I get, it's like he's some mystic. 
The Bodhisattva sitting under a tree. He was out of it for two weeks so they 
couldn't... (to Dan) Wasn't he sleeping in a closet? 
J: He was in a closet for two weeks. 
N: Yeah, they work around his insanity and they respect him. (Tape runs out) 
Royal Trux: The Embodiment Of Indie-Rock Hip
by Johan Kugelberg
Your Flesh, issue 28
1993 

The first self-released album, the follow-up magnum-opus Twin Infinitives and 
the Vertical and Drag Ciy singles are examples of original rock music - 
peerless, with hardly a nod to the ghosts of rock music past, present or (most 
likely) future. I for one (and a lot of people disagree with me) am not as 
thrilled by their two albums, where RTX has started fooling around with 
"straight" rock song structures and plenty of nods in the direction of the 
Rolling stones and Flying Burrito Brothers. However, each new RTX release is a 
mandatory listening experience, and as unpredictable as it gets. This interview 
with Trux founders Neil Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema took place a while ago, in 
fact, so long ago that the Drag City album wasn't even recorded. 
YF: So, how long is it since the first LP was released? 
JH: Like early 1987. 
YF: Neil, so did that come out before you were out of Pussy Galore then? 
NH: Yeah, I was out, what, for like a year? 
JH: Yeah, but then you went back. 
NH: But then I joined up again for the last couple records or something. I'm not 

even sure if it was 1987 - it might have been 1988. 
JH: No, the record came out in 1987. I know that. It was recorded in 1986... It 
came out in early 1987. 
YF: So what made you guys decide to do that? You, Jennifer, hadn't done music 
before that had you? 
JH: We had been playing for a couple of years together, but we never, I mean 
like on vinyl, put anything out like a steady band. The only thing that had ever 

come out prior to that was that ROIR cassette thing. Those tracks were recorded 
at the same time as the first LP. The first LP was recorded over the span of a 
year and somewhere in the midst of it we recorded the three tracks on the ROIR 
tape. 
YP: So you guys basically financed and distributed that thing yourselves and 
played all those CBGB's Record Canteen gigs that I missed. There was never a 
real line up right? You used different people at all the different shows? 
JH: Well, we had some steady players for periods of time like this guy Anil 
Melnick and this guy Michael Early both drummers, percussionists, you know sound 

players, that each had their stint with us, but, it wasn't like for years or 
anything. It was a couple of months a piece. 
YF: I remember Ed Roesser (bass and vocals - Urge Overkill) played for a while 
and Charlie Ondras (deceased former drummer - Unsane/Boss Hog) played for a 
while. 
NH: Charlie was more in tune with it then Ed was. Ed said something like "Oh, I 
think I see what you are trying to do." 
JH: Ed would breeze into town and rehearse with us and do the show, whatever, 
but Charlie we spent a little more time with. I think Charlie had seen more of 
our shows. 
YF: Yeah I think Charlie was all those early Canteen shows. That is something 
that is weird now, five years later, that like how quote unquote important The 
Canteen was as a venue, because it was the only venue in New York that was 
completely unpretentious. Gerald Cosloy put together bills of these bands that 
might not even have a record out. There would be like 20 or 30 paying people, 
completely unpretentious. 
JH: It was a relaxed atmosphere, a good place to see bands. 
YF: Neil, when you left Pussy Galore to start developing the Trux or whatever, 
how much of the ideas were set and how much came as you went along? 
NH: I don't know... I guess... (long pause)... It's hard to say. I knew what 
sort of musical resource that I was going to use, but when I left... see I left 
thay band (Pussy Galore) pretty abruptly because I felt like we had to start now 

and get it into gear and get a base and then it can develop. You know what I 
mean. I took what I knew, I took the resources and then sort of lashed them 
together and since then they have just developed. Just sort of practicing, 
insulating ourselves with it. Before we got swept away by whatever was happening 

around us. Then we could take that nice core and let ourselves be influenced by 
whatever happened. 
YF: What's your perspective on the first LP now, a few years after the fact, 
considering, how so many so-called taste-makers were completely awestruck by it.
JH: I think the hype is pretty accurate. I think it is an accurate depiction of 
what the LP was because at the time, I mean as far as my knowledge of New York 
music, there wasn't a New York genre, a New York school. All the music was 
within the same pot - I really think the LP was outside that pot. 
NH: But it was definitely New York School. I think it caught people's eyes 
because it was a little outside... 
YF: I don't know if I remember it correctly but in the interview that Gerald did 

in Conflict you, Neil, were taking about that fine line between music that is 
extremely precise, where the specifics are almost mathematical, and how close 
that is to something that is random and falls apart, and creates interesting 
things in the way it falls apart. 
JH: Yeah, well it's a lot like John Cage's theory... I mean I remember certain 
songs on the first LP where I would draw a blank for my ideas on guitar, with 
parts I just don't know what to do with, and Neil would have like five notes 
that he would want me to play, but I couldn't play them at any particular time. 
I had to play them in the most unnatural time. To get the simplest parts down 
would take me days because it was so unnatural for me. In all the places that I 
would never want to play that note he would come running up and, you know: "Play 

it now!" it was just so hard for me to "get." He had real definite ideas about 
some of those parts that I was playing. On some of the songs man I drew a blank. 

I didn't know what I wanted to play. Lots of things fit but they sounded like 
something else, subconsciously they were another song. 
YF: For me, someone who is not a musician, never really was, and definitely 
never will be, thank god, but instead as a listener or fan-boy, the first Trux 
LP, or the second for that matter, is just one of those great undefinable albums 

like Half Gentlemen, Not Beasts, the Cro Magnon album or Cap't Beefheart's Trout 

Mask Replica for that matter. One thing that enters your mind as you listen is 
the "fly on the wall" thing. What happened? What was the creative process like? 
etcetera. I read - I think it was in Seymour Glass's Banana Fish interview - 
that Twin Infinitives was one long tape spliced into pieces... 
NH: The backing, the texture tape was like one piece, except for "Edge of the 
Ape Oven" which was a piece that started with the music, instruments and 
everything. What were you saying earlier... You were wondering what happened, 
how the songs jelled. See, that's getting really close to what I think we are 
trying to do. More so now too, because one step beyond that... beyond the 
personal... the part that you can relate to physically like: "What happened, 
what were the inspirations, what were the inspirations?" which is just something 

like "what is going on in their brains?" That is what makes us and that is the 
thing that you can never touch. 
YF: Ah, what were the Wiggins sisters thinking in the recording studio. 
NH: That Philosophy of the World album is probably the best record ever made 
except that not enough people know that it is the best record ever made. 
YF: Yeah, purity of vision or something like that, an immediate connection 
between the brain and the notes that flow out of the instrument. 
JH: nd it does not necessarily have to be one long flow. A lot of improv is 
trying to get to the heart of that. Feeling... inspiration... BOOM! A lot of 
times totally dissecting the idea, then putting it out is the only way you know 
that is as closse to what your vision was. 
NH: Pop songs, short pop songs, get an emotional reaction out of people that is 
unbelievable. Like that song "Isla La Bonita" - the way that just turned people 
on when we were living down in this neighnorhood. Seeing the most dire piece of 
crap that a major artist ever put out is the essence of some kind of brain 
function. Opposed to the way we do it or Peter Brotzmann's Machine Gun LP or 
something. 
YF: Well, maybe you guys are closer to stream of consciousness or something. 
JH: If you think about stream of consciousness, when writing you get confused 
every four seconds, you change your mind every four seconds. It can be 
completely misinterpreted because you haven't taken it outside yourself and 
looked at it again and then clarified it, extrapolated and clarified it so that 
there is no room for misinterpretation. Whereas if you leave it all out there 
the reader can go in a million different directions with it and maybe our vision 

is lost. 
YF: Sounds cool to me. 
JH: I mean sure, improv and everything is great but in terms of actually writing 

a song and wanting to get something across in a song, you have to break it down 
and work it over and make it clear. 
YF: I had a hard time with the third LP. It's really, um, "rock." 
JH: It's taken down to the lowest common denominator basically. We can do that. 
I think we can. I like that record and I think that we have the ability to be 
able to do that and that is what the record was about. Taking it down to the 
lowest common denominator. 
YF: So was it a bummer to live in San Francisco? 
NH: You see, I personally had a blast but for Jennifer it was pretty miserable. 
I liked the weather. 
JH: I didn't like San Francisco. The times were very up and down to the extreme. 

I can't say it was all miserable but it definitely wasn't all great. 
YF: Where was the third LP recorded? 
JH: In Maryland. The songs were written over a one and a half year period, the 
time in San Francisco basically. When we did this record I was very careful to 
listen to make sure that our change of lifestyle wasn't reflected by a musical 
change. Symbolically, we were going from tapes and a lot of instruments to just 
pared-down acoustic guitar which is really symbolic of a lot of different 
things, you know, "roots" or whatever. 
YF: Not "Neil and Jennifer before and after drugs..." 
JH: No, that's not true. 
NH: It's just bad timing on our part really. 
JH: Basically our lives haven't changed that much except that we are a lot 
healthier and we have more money in our pockets. Nothing else really has 
changed. Music was lways number one priority before, but at times the actual 
working on the music fell by the wayside. Now it's still number one priority and 

the working on it keeps our minds off other things. It keeps us occupied. 
YF: Maybe it has to do with groing older as well. I know how unfocused I was at 
five-six years ago. At that time I couldn't give two shits about achieving 
anything in anything. 
NH: Well I'm 27 and I think I have achieved something in music that I feel good 
about. We were there five years ago, I remember when we used to hang out at 
Charlie's a lot. 
JH: I don't think that I never not cared about what the outome was. I mean, 
inevitably, you know as far as I'm concerned the only reason i'm putting 
something on vinyl is that I want somebody else to listen to it and connect with 

it. I don't want to put it out there so everybody can close their ears and go, 
you know, of this is wretched. Of course I want a connectoin otherwise I would 
keep it to myself. 
YF: So, you are in the process of learning the workings of a recording studio. 
JH: I went to engineering studio here and in san Francisco. It is hard to tell 
the people in the studio studio that we want it to sound "dirty' or "green" or 
whatever... You have to do it yourself. You can't say "punch this or that up 5.5 

dbs." I wanted to go to school just to learn the vocabulary. I kind of fucked 
off in school a lot but I didn't want to be at the mercy of bad engineering. I 
wanted to know how to vocalize what I wanted and how to do the EQs and all that 
stuff myself, and if they didn't want me to touch their board, how to explain it 

and get it the way I want it. 
NH: If you get an inspiration or something and you want to try it there is just 
this delay as it gets mediated by the two engineers and by the board itself, and 

the whole taping process. 
YF: Were you ever interested in music theory people? 
NH: Yeah, anybody that had some opinion on it, I wanted to be there. I just 
wanted to be part of it. Coming from the suburbs you havethis built in 
inferiority complex. It's like you got to go to school, you got to go to college 

you got to do all these things. and then you will be OK and you can run amok in 
society. 
YF: It is usually too late at that point. What do you think of the way you've 
been described in the press? 
JH: There was this thing in the New York Press that I want to show to you. It is 

just so bizarre. It talks about what fuck-ups we are, and it's positive. It's 
basically like "you have to search through a bar to find a wasted girl, where 
here you put the spotlight on her." It is upposed to be positive yet that's the 
thing he thinks is cool. I wasn't wasted, I was in complete control of my 
faculties. 
NH: Then you must be a pretty good performer. 
JH: Yeah, I would like to take credit for being a good performer as opposed to 
being a freak that is totally wasted, you know. 
NH: I always feel good when she is singing. It makes me feel like she is the 
anchor of the band. 
JH: There have been shows where everything has gone just the same as the nigt 
before, and it sounds just as good as the night before yet I'll be completely 
miserable because I didn't get off like the night before. I mean, this is the 
selfish part, the gratuitous part of it. Where I'd wish that I could have gotten 

off like I did the night before. Where the whole thing just kind of wells up in 
you and you feel that you are readiating. There are other times when you 
probably radiating but you don't feel it. And if you don't feel it you get 
gypped out of your high or something like that. Everything is OK. 
YF: Sounds like a parallel to dope, in a sense. 
NH: When we started using it, it was such a cliche. Kind of like the New York 
thing to do, you know coming up in New York. The challenge is if you can go 
through it and like, you know... Now we are clean and we are going to stay 
clean, you know. It's like Miles. He was strung out and he was supposedly 
exerting this great force of will and later on he became this total coke freak. 
You get drawn back into it by social ties and your socio-economic position. It's 

like, you have a choice - stay in this rut or do this lame drug, you know. It 
exerts its power over the user at a certain point. In the beginning the user is 
in control, but inevitable it flip-flops and the drug is exerting its power over 

the user, and therefore you experience a loss of control. Drinking... anything. 
I think drugs are fine if you can do them in moderation, but I can't. I fucking 
can't. I'm an extremist and it has been proven to me on many occasions, for 
years. I know I can't moderate so therefore the next extreme to go to is to not 
do anything. I mean drugs are lame, but to me that was an attraction in a way... 

That was our attitude, it was like the post-modern scene, man. It was my ttitude 

to go through all this stuff. I was in a punk rock band, the baddest-ass ban in 
New York. 
YF: Drug abuse seems like a way of simplifying life to the extreme as well. For 
a fundamental Christian in the bible belt life is simple. Life is very 
uncomplicated for a junkie. 
JH: Oh yeah, initially it seems so. 
NH: At a certain time in your early 20s you think like "Jesus I've got to really 

simplify myself" in a way. At least I remember people saying that. People 
working on themselves to see where they were going to hook on to the Globe. And 
it's just like I don't know if it is like that time, or what if it is like 
Republicanism and everything. You got to cut your deal, and heroin was one of 
the alternatives... I think it is kind of dissipating now, but everyone seemed 
to be rationalizing themselves into these identities. You know, when they should 

have just lived, you know, just lived. 

1 9 9 5

Royal Trux Interview
by Lester & Siobhan
Discorder, issue 147
April 1995

Royal Trux was born in 1987 amidst the infamous and notorious career of Pussy 
Galore. Neil Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema's first collaboration, entitled "Fix 
it", appeared on the Pussy Galore album Right Now, and during Neil's 
disappearance from that band, the first eponymously titled Royal Trux album 
appeared. Drag City Records was formed around their second release, Twin 
Infinitives, an album that is as dense and difficult as it is rewarding. A 
second eponymous album followed, recorded for a mere $150, and in 1993 Cats and 
Dogs was released, indicating the band's move towards a fuller and more 
convensional sound. Royal Trux's latest release, Thank You, finds them signed to 

corporate spectre Virgin Records and operating as a full band rather than just 
as the sole expression of its enigmatic founders. 
We called Royal Truxat their Virginia home and spoke with Neil Hagerty. Talking 
to him left us with the impression that he could only express half of what he 
was thinking, that he was jumping around from idea to idea due to the 
limitations of language. Neil seemed to be the kind of person for whom language 
is not wide enough means to express his ideas. 
Discorder: What is Royal Trux? 
Neil: It's the name of our band. 
D: But isn't it more than that? You said Royal Trux was a ride, a trip. 
N: When did I say that? 
D: In the numerable interviews that you gave. 
N: Ahhh, I must have had a lot of coffee or something. I mean, whatever, did you 

get that film? 
D: The What Is Royal Trux? video? Yeah. 
N: 'Cause that's a joke, it's like, just a band. These days you need a 
justification just to play music so you have to make up a lot of crap. 
D: Are you bothered by people constantly talking about your deconstructionist 
take on the Rolling Stones? 
N: It's better then saying that we aped them. At least for my own ego, so people 

realize we are not mindless rock. 
D: You actually got to meet Keith Richards didn't you? 
N: Yeah, I met him briefly. He just comes off totally real, which is admirable. 
He's just this British guy who undertook making millions of dollars playing 
American blues music. And it's so preposterous, he has this air about him. It's 
so ridiculous, he constantly has this amazed look on his face. He can't believe 
all the stuff that is going on around him. It was really weird. I pulled out a 
cigarette and the minute he saw an unlit cigarette he whipped out a lighter. He 
would light everyone's cigarettes for them. 
D: He was a gentleman. 
N: Yeah, he was, he was very polite. He's got this Britishness about him, but he 

looks like some god awful bum from New Orleans. 
D: What's the function of a full band in Royal Trux? 
N: Well, now we've trimmed down from five members to four. Everbody in the band 
has their job to do and you can't mess with the other person. The idea is to 
have a band where everybody is equal. I think with a lot of bands it's usually 
just one person. I mean, we [Neil and Jennifer] write the songs and that's the 
concept of the band, basically. It's like this is the band in which we write the 

songs and not the band that dresses up like martians. And that's it. We had this 

other guy who was playing percussion , but his was a light contribution and he 
wasn't carrying his weight as an equal member, so instead of changing around to 
accomodate him, we jettisoned him. Jennifer and me, we've always been equal - 
that's why it's always been the two of us. It's been hard to get people into it, 

because they're always third or fourth members. The function of the band, to me, 

is a metaphor for different social arrangements. That's when it really works 
well. In jazz a lot of the time it's really equal, but in rock it's generally 
hierarchical. We don't want to be like that. 
D: In your live shows do you strive for spontaneity? Do you try to fuck things 
up a bit? 
N: No, it just happens. That's the way we write the songs, where everything is 
sorta planned out. But once we're on stage, everything just kinda goes, it's 
sorta like striving for spontaneity is an oxymoron. 
D: But you're free to move around around within the songs. 
N: It's weird, we just did a TV show in England and it was live and not lip 
synch. They were talking about it like it was a good thing, how they let you 
play live, and I was like, 'Oh man, we'd much rather lip synch.' It's so much 
easier because all that matters is how you look. And that's the important thing 
on TV, especially in pop music in England. They couldn't believe I said that, 
but the truth is we couldn't have done it because our music is so... what's on 
the record would be almost impossible for us to play along with perfectly. The 
beats move around a lot in the songs. 
D: It seems to me that Royal Trux does have an aesthetic of sorts, though it's 
not the same, and it's not consistent. 
N: It's not consistent in terms of how we present ourselves. Materially, it's 
really inside, the things we like and don't like. But that's not all that 
generates the things we do. We don't always do what we like. Sometimes we do 
what we don't like 'cause it's something that you have to do. 
D: In a lot on the songs you do the words aren't completely distinguishable, you 

can catch phrases here and there. Is that the desired effect? 
N: Well no, it's a process. All the songs are written so we can sing them from 
the paper with an acoustic guitar and feel comfortable with it. Then Jennifer 
takes it over, and when she's singing she starts changing the song. She phrases 
it differently and sometimes she changes words to fit the music as it changes 
during rehearsals. But at some point it has got to seem real. I mean, when you 
hear "18 and Life", the Skid Row song, the desired effect of that song is to 
project a real face and to touch this mass. We like to work the other way, to 
let a mass communication concept touch us inside. It's all external input. We 
don't have a desire to project - the concept feeds into us, and then we take it 
and it just turns into music. But it's two level's, and that's why we did 
covers, like the Peel Sessions. We did the theme from MASH for the first one, 
and we cut out a verse 'cause it seemed stupid. We both sing, and that's real 
cool too 'cause the lines feed off each other and are interweaved in different 
ways. But we're not trying to be purposefully obscure. It's really frustrating - 

to use "18 and Life" again, that song seems so direct, but really in the end it 
leaves me so empty. We have an aesthetic based on that contradiction: When you 
look at it closely, if it's a person talking to you it's hollow, yet it feels so 

good. 
D: The words function to propel the music along. 
N: Yeah, and yet that guy Sebastian Bach can lean forward and just say them with 

such conviction! Jennifer has a lot of conviction in her voice. I try to, in the 

tone of my voice, [but] I rely on that contradiction more. I don't quite believe 

in what I'm saying. That's why she's the lead singer, because that voice is 
supposed to be stronger. But in the end our songs on paper, the acoustic demo 
versions of the songs, all make sense. They're not about trying to reach out, 
they're about what's reaching in to us from the outside. 
D: So you're internalizing? 
N: Yeah, what is possible to internalize. Like, I was on this plane and these 
guys were getting drunk and they were hassling the stewardess. It was really 
annoying, yet I felt like a wimp. Everybody who flies coach, it's like a manly 
thing to do 'cause it's sort of dangerous or something. So, I don't know, I 
might write a song about that, but it won't have anything to do with the actual 
situation. It's just that feeling. Rather than saying when you're eighteen it's 
like a jail sentence, yeah, that's a great idea, let's write a song about that 
and speak for all those people - we would never want to do that. But people are 
always thinking about us as being willfully obscure. 
D: It was (producer) David Briggs' idea to record you guys live, wasn't it? And 
it was your first time doing it? 
N: i think so, but in a lot of ways all our stuff is live, even though it 
happened at different times. David totally controlled the recording process. We 
were there, but after a while we got so bored because he was moving all the 
knobs and we left. We came back and heard it and it just sounded like us. It was 

great. 
D: Why did you call the album Thank You? 
N: It's this story. We went to get our car fixed and when you pay, you gotta 
pick it up, get the keys, and you don't see anybody. Then you go into the car 
and they have this little card in the visor and it says 'Thank you' in these 
nice letters. so it was kind of detatched, like when they put all these stickers 

over everything - 'We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience'. Super polite 
corporate fakeness. 
D: Or when you rent a video and there's a happy face that says 'Be kind Rewind'. 

N: Exactly. And then if you don't they charge you. It's the 'Have a nice day' 
deal. 
D: What's the song the "Sewers of Mars" about? 
N: It's about vulnerability to spiritualism and superstition and lottery. If 
someone's from the sewer, if that person is so low, they're from the sewers of 
mars [sic]. It's something that happened to me: I met this person, his wife died 

of cancer, a prolonged, protracted disease. And then this woman , she was a 
medium, she glommed on to him. I went to their house to party with them and he 
had this cane in the corner that his wife had left from when she left the 
hospital and finally passed away. So when I got wasted, I picked it up and he 
got really hurt. I guess it mentions that. 
D: Do you see any bands around that have been influenced by Royal Trux? 
N: No, not yet. There's a problem with our earlier records, it gives people the 
wrong idea: Do a lot of drugs and you too can do this. 
D: It seems that you dismiss your earlier albums. 
N: Yeah, I guess. In terms of putting out a record, you go through all this 
stuff and everyone asks you about it, so the thing that is good for me to do is 
to dismiss those records and concentrate on this record. 'Cause I'm really just 
promoting this record. That is the truth of the matter; it's the only thing that 

matters. The reason is, I don't want anybody to get the idea that we demand that 

you know our complete library. You only have to get this record because you like 

this record. I've been going out of my way to try to dispell all this arty bogus 

myth that harbors around us generally. We've always just wanted to be a band 
that makes interesting records that you can keep without them dying on you. 
D: Who's Yin Jim that you mentioned on Twin Infinitives, in "Yin Jim Versus the 
Vomit Creature"? 
N: It's a psychic detective thing based on an Algernon Blackwood character named 

John Silencer. I'm really into comic books. 
D: Are you into '20s pulp fiction? 
N: I just like a good tale. That ["Yin Jim Versus the Vomit Creature"] was just 
an idea, his assistant is the bones of a dead coyote, the Indian spirit, the 
scavenger spirit, and he reanimates the bones of a dead coyote. It's a cool 
cartoon image. It's about one of his adventures. Again, there's an actual story 
behind it, but I just made a bunch of sounds. And everyone's like, 'Oh yeah, 
you're so weird.' 
D: That's great that there's a whole scenario built up. 
N: I wanted to make a movie out of it, but movies are really expensive to make. 
I was shocked. Koretzky at Drag City [Records], I'm waiting until he can give me 

$20,000 to do a gunk version of it, mostly computer animation and live 
interaction. But that's probably way down the line. The music guys are always 
oing that, flopping like crazy in movies. Did you see that Perry Farell movie? 
D: No. 
N: God! I didn't see it either, but I saw it on the video stands and I read a 
review of it. It sounds really stupid. It's all about drug addiction - it's a 
street movie. All the record company people are street this, street that, the 
kids this, and kids that. 
D: I guess they're worried about their cred or something like that. 
N: Oh yeah! They're all humpbacks. We're going on tour and we're taking a bus 
and they were like, 'You guys have to tour in a van 'cause you gotta be indie,' 
and we're like, 'Excuse me, but we've been doing that since '85. Now we can 
afford it, so please! Every two bit country band in the fucking universe takes a 

bus on tour the first time they get to go out.' But it's [the label's] 
credibility that's at stake - 'We don't want to be known as the label that 
spoiled this perfect thing' - and it's not the issue at all. 
D: Can you conceive of Royal Trux become [sic] really popular? 
N: Oh yeah. 
D: And you have no problems with that. 
N: No. We're going to tour all the time. Bands need to do that, to compete 
basically. That's probably why I dismissed the other records, because we were 
not competing. Now I see the Billboard chart as competition. That's more my 
approach to the record, 'cause then I can look back at my other records and say 
I've already explored dark corners of the psyche. I just want to reach a wide 
audience through these products. [But] for us this is really stupid. I hate 
making stupid ass videos. I hate videos. I don't even watch MTV. They said, 
'Well you have to!', so I was like, 'We'll do a five record set only on vinyl 
exploring the harmonics of C and G.' But I don't want to pull that kind of 
thing. I hate it when popular artists do that kind of thing, because it ruins 
people's enjoyment for the artist's own sake. It seems like a cruel thing to do. 

That's why I love Madonna, she never does that. Her idea of art is movies. She 
knows her job. 
D: Can you see Royal Trux existing in ten years? 
N: Yeah, forever, 'til we die. 
D: That's a beautiful thought. 
N: And sell a lot of records. We're just going to do this commercial phase for a 

while. 
D: Do you perceive yourselves as being in a commercial phase? 
N: Oh yeah, the minute we signed. Before we made records for a very limited 
audience. Maybe some people got suckered in because of the press or hype or 
whatever rumour, but, now that we're on a major label, people expect to get what 

they want in the record store. They don't want to be ripped off. People really 
do work hard for their money. So now what we do, I can't really describe it, but 

it's something like a bubble bath or something nice. A nice car or whatever. 
D: Do you feel that you are dealing with a fickle audience. 
N: Yes. No. Fickle? Yes. I think audiences are very fickle. It takes a lot to 
please them. I think they know what they want. 


1 9 9 7 

The Truth about Cats and Dogs and Orioles
with Neil Hagerty of Royal Trux 
by Kevin Chanel
ChinMusic!, issue 2
1997

Unbeknownst to us this former Pussy Galore member was a skittish first bagger 
before punk rock claimed his soul. We caught us with him during the NLCS. Kevin 
Chin runs the tape and inflates the phone bill.
ChinMusic: So, you ever talk to any mags about baseball?
Neil Hagerty: (laughter)... Well, I try to. But no.
CM: Yeah, I kinda had the feeling. Have you been watching the playoffs?... the 
'Series?
NH: Oh yeah. Yes.
CM: So are you pulling for the Yankees? (enormous faux pas)
NH: Well,... uh, no,... I'm an Orioles fan.
CM: Ah, really, uh, that's too bad. Its hard not to pull for the Orioles.
NH: We've waited out here,... like, we moved in '71. You know they were like, 
they had the best team in the world. Y'know, Brooks Robinson,... 
CM: The big four.
NH: Let's see... the Senators were here. I saw Norm Cash, Gates Brown,... when 
the Detroit Tigers played the Senators. It was the last year they were here. And 

then when they split, well, they became the Rangers, or whatever. Y'know, it was 

like... it was just, the Orioles were all that was left.
CM: Back in the old stadium.
NH: Yeah, Memorial Stadium. But, you know, Camden Yards is kinda weird.
CM: Really, how's that?
NH: Well, first of all you can't smoke. But everyone's like that. It just has 
that,... people come in,... it's the kind of thing you hear about Cubs fans, 
y'know, like how it's just sort of just a "day trip" type of thing. Like I 
remember we saw this game, it was the Angels. It was Jim Abbott pitching; and it 

hadn't been discerned that he was having an incredibly bad year. It was only his 

fourth or fifth start,... early May. So anyways, we got these seats down the 
third base line. These three dudes, like the third inning, with their suits on, 
and shit. They were calling him,... they were going... "Who's this guy?... hey 
Stumpy!..." the entire time. And then a foul ball would come down and... cuz, I 
try to sit down on the line... but these guys were like, crawling all over these 

chairs,...
CM: So is it like a big businessman, yup' contingent going to the games?
NH: Yeah, its corporate. You even hear the announcers sometimes talk about it. 
CM: You mean, complain about it?
NH: Well, not reaaally. I don't think they would ever complain; cuz Memorial 
Stadium would be like, half full. I mean, I like it. It's a long way though.
CM: It seems like they really made the turn-around after the stadium was built.
NH: The revenues just kept pouring in.
CM: They're able to afford both Bonilla and Alomar. (some talk about Alomar and 
Ozzie Smith)
NH: Well god-damn, in '93 they got Palmeiro and Sid Fernandez,... that was 
pathetic. I mean, you know, he had a couple good games, but...
CM: It was too bad; he was a pretty good pitcher at one time, too...
NH: Oh god, I loved the Mets! It was so cool, cuz we moved to New York in about 
'85...
CM: How convenient!
NH: That's of course when,... Doc (Gooden) and Daryl Strawberry were like,... 
when, I graduated high school, they, got drafted that year. I think it was in 
'83, or something. You know, they were "touted picks" in Sports Illustrated. 
That was so cool. (referring to their '86 win over Boston) It was a cheap win, 
but... (laughter)
CM: Yeah, watching it, it was a hell of a game though. Just the whole "Buckner", 

through the legs,... Sox fans most've been hatin' it,...
NH: Yeah, I was just glad he did it. I mean, I didn't even think of it as this 
huge "thing". Its become a thing I've been more made aware of since then.
CM: It's been made a vital part of baseball lore now.
NH: Yeah, Tony LaRussa said that was the best job; if you could take the Red Sox 

and win the 'Series, that's the best job a manager could have.
CM: Yet he had the offer to go there. I'm surprised he didn't go there.
NH: It must be something with the GM (General Manager) there. They fired Kevin 
Kennedy, and he did okay.
CM: They seemed to do fine. He had that tank at the end there, but it wasn't 
that bad.
NH: Considering how they started off. Well we went on tour two years ago, right 
before the season started. And I was thinking, I might not be able to go to 
every fuckin' game. It was like, the home team was out of town like...
CM: - Most of the time?
NH: Yeah, like at least in six of the cities. Lemme see, I went to the SkyDome, 
and I was like, "god this place must be ten or fifteen years old..." and then my 

dad told me "it opened in 91". Compared to Camden Yards, (Camden) seemed so 
modern, (SkyDome) just seems like, so archaic. 
CM: Odd considering at the time it was so "state of the art".
NH: Well, from the outside,... or from an aerial shot. (Laughing) It's like,... 
you know that sound, like in a museum with all the dinosaur bones. Its hollow, 
its so bizarre. It was also the first time I'd seen astroturf up close. That was 

another thing that was striking, we just walked in and got front row, down the 
third base line. It was literally fifteen feet away from Joe Carter. There were 
these girls that were there and they were like, "Joe!... Joe!" And every now and 

then he'd look over and just kinda tip his cap, and they would swoon. That was 
really cool. And that astroturf, I always thought it was like, "welcome mat" 
grass, just these plastic blades. But it's just,... like a rug man. It was so 
bizarre.
CM: Just imagine like, Rickey Henderson diving on that to make a catch -
NH: Oh I know, man! Now I got a greater appreciation for him.
CM: It must be incredibly painful.
NH: That's such an "80's" thing. All I think about when I think of that is just, 

Royals/Cardinals World Series. Yeah, it was the first "all-turf" 'Series. And 
then after that it was the Twins, what about the first "indoor" World Series.
CM: What was that, '87?
NH: I think it was the Twins/Cardinals. I think it was after '84, and I didn't 
really follow baseball 'til Ryan Murphy (of Drag City Records) - I mean he's a 
gigantic baseball fan - well he went on tour with us that year that Francisco 
Cabrera hit the (final ALCS game- winning hit) -
CM: Yeah, that was '92.
NH: See, we were all on tour. So in the hotel rooms we'd all get into watching 
the games, and I started getting back into it. So I missed like, that incredible 

Pirates run. Kirby Puckett hitting that homer off Leibrandt (in the '91 
'Series). I had so much to catch up on. Cuz the Orioles, they sucked. They 
dismissed Frank Robinson, they got rid of him.
CM: Well, he hasn't had that good luck as a manager; so I think a lot of teams 
have given up on him.
NH: (in accent) It ain' right.
CM: But his name always surfaces when there's an opening for manager.
(we ramble around various subjects)
NH: I got a lot out of that Ken Burns ('94 PBS Baseball documentary) thing. I 
also bought the book (version of the same). Actually I like the book better, 
because some of the sentimental aspects of the documentary just really started 
to...
CM: Did you watch the whole documentary though?
NH: Yeah. They (PBS) ran it like, three different times during the week. And 
after the last day they ran it all, back-to-back. But y'know, I enjoyed it; but 
I was watching it with someone who hates baseball.
CM: Yeah, that doesn't help.
NH: (laughing) Yeah, exactly! It doesn't argue the case properly.
(more laughing)
CM: Well at least they kind of kept down the "baseball homilies" -
NH: Until George Will got up there! -
CM: Jesus Christ.
NH: I can't stand that guy.
CM: Did you ever see, there was a "Saturday Night Live" thing -
NH: "George Will's Sports Machine" (a take-off on the syndicated weekend sports 
show "George Michael Sports Machine")? (tons o'laffs) That was fucking 
hilarious. With Mike Schmidt,...
CM: ... Making (Dana Carvey as Will) throw a ball.
NH: He threw like a 'goil.
CM: Jon Lovitz as Tommy Lasorda.
NH: Another thing about the 80's. I remember, the Blue Jays were like - good. 
And it was so beyond my imagination because,... y'know -
CM: Well its just like seeing the Mariners get big now. They're exciting to 
watch.
NH: Yeah, well I was telling everybody that they were gonna get it together and 
they were always "...yeah, right." Like, older people especially.
CM: Well their city didn't support them up until last year.
NH: At the expense of the Angels.
CM: Yeah, it was sad to see them go down, but what's not to like about the 
Mariners?
NH: Buhner won a Gold Glove.
CM: Him and Junior.
NH: Yeah, well he's a perennial. Poor Brady Anderson will never win. THey may 
move him back to left field. I don't know about Bonilla, cuz he's a free agent. 
He really caught on fire, as he usually does. And it carried him through, and 
then, the Indians (divisional playoffs) series was great, and then it was just 
like,... the Yankees (ALCS) games were like how they played for most of the 
year.
CM: Well they had brought in all that power. I think a general conception was 
like, okay, the Yankees and the Orioles both stacked their lineups at the end of 

the year.
NH: A.L. All-Star teams -
CM: So it was like "who did the better job?"
NH: There was Cone and Key. They'd been (together in Toronto.
CM: There were like, six guys there who had been on the '86 Mets.
(we start yammering about the various guys on the Yankees and Orioles)
NH: Do you think Keith Hernandez will get voted into the Hall of Fame?
CM: I doubt it; I don't think he has the numbers.
NH: Yeah, it's definitely borderline. You think Ozzie Smith will?
CM: Definitely. First ballot. He really redefined the position.
NH: Yeah.
CM: He put it in the minds of the Hall of Fame people that you really don't have 

to have 400 homers, or be a .300 hitter to be in the Hall.
NH: What about all those dudes in the past,...
CM: Well you gotta hope that they'll relook at 'em all. Like Dave Kingman, for 
one.
NH: Yeah. He was my (idol) when I was a player, I wanted to be a DH -
(mucho laughs)
CM: The most slack position there is!
NH: Well I was of course, first base. And even that was too much sometimes.
(ha ha ha)
CM: Well you get the ball thrown weird at you sometimes. You might have to take 
one off the kneecap once in a while.
NH: I didn't mind getting in front of it.
CM: First base is not so bad.
NH: But I was right-handed, so...
CM: Nowadays it's not so bad. Y'know Steve Garvey was right-handed.
NH: Yeah I hated him, man.
CM: How couldn't you?!
NH: Yeah, I know. Well I kinda liked the Dodgers, but all I think about is,... 
there were these two back-to-back 'Series, Yanks/Dodgers -
CM: '77 and '78 -
NH: Just boring.
CM: With Reggie Jackson hitting those three homers.
NH: I actually think they were pretty good games.
CM: It was great to see (the Dodgers) lose. I hate the Dodgers.
NH: They're still exactly the same. Like "God Bless Dodger blue!", and "that 
great Dodger in the sky..."
CM: What do you think when Lasorda finally stepped down?
NH: It was weird, y'know. It seemed like he would've just stopped this year at 
the beginning, or something. I don't know, I guess he's really human, 
ultimately. He wasn't like, perfect. Kinda how Brett Butler was saying how he 
wants to go out on his own terms. It wasn't how he wanted to go out, getting hit 

trying to bunt.
CM: It was pretty sad, but he lived by the bunt,...
NH: Exactly.
CM: He's one of those guys that always played really hard and gave his all.
NH: Which of course, they now refer to as the "throwback." He's a real 
throwback.
CM: It's sad actually.
NH: Then there's the guys that pull up their socks.
CM: Delino DeShields does that. There's one on every team.
NH: He's a much-maligned player. I think he's alright.
CM: Oh he's really good. But when you're on a team with Piazza and Karros - guys 

that are whacking the homers - you're gonna get pushed to the bottom unless 
you're,...stealing a shitload of bases or something.
NH: It's just amazing how cold (the Dodgers) were at the end of the season. I 
heard everyone was complaining about the last days, the Dodgers/Padres series. 
It was great. I've got the satellite thing, so...
CM: Did you make good use of it?
NH: Every game, pretty much. I mean, you think like, in the middle of July, you 
just flip around and,... I saw a lot of really good games, in and of themselves. 

There was this great Indians/Rangers series. I think they had one of the games 
on ESPN on Wednesday; but Monday and Tuesday were just as exciting. Y'know, 
twelve innings,...it's that DTV thing, it's great. Y'know, I liked the Phillies 
in '93, cuz of Dykstra.
CM: Well, Kruk, yeah!
NH: Yeah right. But they broke it up. But now Baltimore's got Incaviglia.
CM: They just got him for the stretch. Do you think he pulled through alright -
NH: Well there was that Saturday game (vs. Yankees) where Rivera loaded the 
bases, and then bambambam!,... he's one of the guys that kept it alive -
CM: Somebody knocked him in with a real cheap hit, too,... didn't they?
NH: Yeah, well,...no, they did a hit and run, man,... with two outs -
CM: And the slowest guy in baseball!
NH: Yeah, he is. He just rolled. It looks like he was trying to go fast. I mean, 

he's probably faster than the average person.
CM: He's definitely faster than me,..
NH: That's why we go,... when we watch the games and go,... well, we never say, 
like "He sucks-" or anything, 'cause it's like - both me and Jennifer (Herrema) 
are like - she used to say that and I'd say, "Man,... do you know how fast that 
ball is traveling?" It's just like, she couldn't figure out the split-finger 
(fastball) thing from the behind-the-pitcher angle.
CM: Yeah, that's not a good angle for that pitch.
NH: Yeah, how can you,...like it was good, on NBC they had (an angle) it up, 
over the right shoulder of the umpire. You could see the spin.
CM: How it just takes a dive right at the end -
NH: Yeah!... And how you could totally fall for it. And finally, 'cause she's 
like hip to it now, 'cause she won't even say that. (laughter) My dad's like 
that. He's always puttin' the althletes down, like it's his god-given right; 
'cause he's from a different generation.
CM: Like, the worst guy from say, the St. Louis Browns, would be taking apart 
this "Maddux" guy -
NH: Who's that guy,... the back-up - Rafael Belliard; imagine him just in a 
pick-up game in the Senoir League in baseball - he would just be kicking 
everyone's ass. (big yuks) We saw the very last game in the airport in '93. 
After the sixth inning we had to go to England on tour.
CM: Did you get to keep up with what happened?
NH: I didn't hear anything - everything there is like two days behind. I had 
Ryan fax me the,... it was like "Finally!... Who fuckin' won?..." And then he 
told me the Joe Carter thing (homer off Mitch Williams to win the 'Series). 
(talk of Blue Jays, Padres, big trades and more Orioles chatter, leading to:) 
Yeah. I can't remember. It was basically the '92 season I think I started 
watching again.
CM: Well I think anybody that does rock stuff and that's into baseball, I think 
they all have one year in their life that they switched from one to another.
NH: Yeah, the truth is that music was always more important, but there's no 
like, Little League, (vs.) music,... the baseball stuff was always more 
externally manifested. That's 'cause of my father. My brother actually, was 
really good. He got a partial scholarship, but he quit.
CM: How far did you get with it?
NH: I got hit in the head with a fly ball off of the first base. I lost it in 
the sun. I,... at the moment,... I could hear that sound, that scrunching sound. 

It was like a fist hitting a box of cereal. And from then on, I was constantly 
bailing out on curveballs.
CM: That's too bad -
NH: Well I would've given it up at some point. I got cut from my high school 
team. I think it might've been before,... 'cause I was like, smokin' pot, 
already.
CM: That's kinda what I was drivin' at. There's always, though not necessarily, 
that one thing,... like smoking pot or something. But something makes you lose 
interest in baseball (at a young age). For some reason wearing a uniform doesn't 

seem as interesting as, say, cranking up Hendrix, or whatever.
NH: It's like, for music for me it was like, a self-driven program; and baseball 

is like,... in Virginia,... well like, Pete Schourek's from Virginia. My brother 

actually faced him in a state All-Star championships. And it's sort of like, 
almost a baseball place, but then again it's not, because it's cold most of the 
year. So there's a lot of these,... when I was getting into these like, American 

Legion ball. That's when the people's attitudesa were like, so fuckin',... these 

overbearing fathers with these kids,... There's a guy who could say, at age 
eighteen, could throw a curveball, so the father says he's gonna be the next, 
whatever,... Juan Marichal. It's just so full of shit. It's just that in Florida 

or California it would've been a lot more supportive. But out in Virginia 
there's just not enough; 'cause in Winter time we had our practices inside the 
gym,... just running sprints. You couldn't play all-year 'round, so there was 
just a lot of talk. A lot more in the Winter time.
CM: So teams are almost decided before they even get out on the field.
NH: You get a bad rep. And then after I got hit it was just like, ehh...
CM: How old were you (when you quit)?
NH: I was around 16 or 17. It all happened around then. That outlet was 
basically cut-off for me. I didn't wanna play 'Legion or Fall,... We used to go 
out and uh,... October until the middle of November, when it would just get way 
too cold, there'd be some snow, and shit.
CM: What part of Virginia is that?
NH: Northern Virgina, like Loudoun County. Down South, further, I guess,... well 

like that guy, Pete Schourek - that's just one guy that,... that's the only 
person that could've come out of there. He just was talented. But with no 
development -
CM: That's often how it works. It's always like, one guy from seven or eight 
neighboring high schools that gets the scholarship to the big school, like 
Fullerton,...
NH: Yeah, it's good to know that. 'Cause from then on, your confidence is gone. 
But I like just goin' out,... but see now, there's a Senior League and I'm 
thinking of maybe picking it up again. But I'm kind of hesitant because I can 
just see it like, all these ex-jocks -
CM: Yeah, I checked one out. It's all these ex-jock idiots trying to regain some 

lost glory they never had -
NH: - workin' out, and doing stretches, and those funny hamstring kicks,...
(laughter)
CM: It's like - "Give it up -"
NH: Yeah, it just sort of fizzled out. If I was really into itI could have 
pushed it. I went to baseball camp a couple of times. But it was sort of like, 
get up at 8:30 in the morning,... and I was like - "Screw this -" y'know. And 
I've been doing music since before I could really play baseball, before 
tee-ball. There's just no outlet,... there was no "Rock Camp" or whatever when I 

was a kid.
(laughter)
CM: For a while, I think they had a "Metal Camp" type thing,... like GIT (Guitar 

Institute of Technology)...
NH: "It's the fast paced world of,..." "You have to have a resume..." Still, at 
that time (early 80's?) it was an open thing; and there was like still,... punk 
rock and new wave music was still breaking through, and it was sort of exciting. 

So like, baseball just sort of fizzled out and music took over. Actually I'm 
greatful. The point of it is, I made a distinct break at that point. I'm just a 
fan now. That's the one problem, baseball looks like you could just walk in 
there,... like anybody could fuckin' do it. Y'know, if you've never played.
CM: One thing to keep in mind is that there are only 800 or so people that are 
able to do it at the professional level,... and that's not even counting the 
minor leagues. Just go from the triple-A -
NH: They say that's the biggest jump.
CM: And that's why Jack Voigt isn't in the majors,... or Rene Gonzales. They 
just couldn't get above (AAA level)
NH: Or Mark Smith.
CM: He had to sing for The Fall.
NH: (laughs) Exactly.
CM: That's a rough gig.
(some chatter about the game on TV, game two of Braves/Cardinals)
NH: Anyway, (what was alluded to) earlier with Ryan, he filled me in on a lot of 

the gaps from when I wasn't following (baseball regularly). At that time, they 
were just starting to talk about either the wild-card or the interleague play. 
We decided we'd rather go with the wild-card, 'cause it's like, don't fuck with 
interleague play. It's terrible.
CM: Yeah, it's one thing that separates it from all the other major sports.
NH: That's one of the few things. On a commercial level I can see where it is 
something that can be big. But the way it is now, if you watch the game for five 

years you're probably gonna see all the National League and American League 
players switch teams anyway. So what's the point? Look, you have Gaetti, 
Eckersley, Honeycutt -
CM: You have the A's playing for the Cardinals now.
NH: Regrouped. (more talk of the surprise of the Cardinals taking their 
division) Yeah, so I had a fuckin' bet with Koretzky, (Dan of) Drag City. I made 

it in June. I think I bet him 50 bucks. I said, "Look, the Marlins will end the 
season within five games of first place" [They finished 16 games outed.] (Much 
laughter). I think it was just after Leiter threw that no-hitter.
CM: That's a lot of momentum to go on.
NH: Yeah, I know. It's a fatal mistake. Hopefully I think he's gonna forget 
about it.


Royal Trux: Back in the Saddle
by Kurt B. Reighley
Alternative Press, issue 107
June 1997

Condensing the music and history of Royal Trux is like trying to map the Florida 

Everglades. By the time you've begun to get the lay of the land, you're probably 

mired hip-deep in viscous goo, and must content yourself to watch your 
surrounding environs mutate faster than they can be recorded. Having 
successfully sucked in the listener, guitarist Neil Hagerty (ex-Pussy Galore) 
and singer Jennifer Herrema's art does not surrender its victims easily. 
Completed last year, Royal Trux's six full-length, Sweet Sixteen (Virgin), 
showcases the band's current blend of anglo boogie-rock and downtown New York 
City post-punk. 
Given Hagerty and Herrema's previous association with heroin (one of the less 
social narcotics), plus their decision several years ago to abandon New York 
City for rural Virginia, one almost expects the duo to come off as cantankerous 
hillbillies who mumble monosyllabic answers while their short fuses burn. In 
reality, Royal Trux are personable and remarkably well-informed, if not always 
terribly lucid. It seems the Southern tradition of distillation hasn't seeped 
into the art of conversation on the Royal Trux estate. 
During our rambling conversation, Hagerty periodically meanders around his 
publicist's Manhattan apartment inspecting various artifacts and offering brief 
opinions on Danielle Dax, anna Domino, Built to spill, filmmaker Neil Jordon and 

scholar Harold Bloom (author of The Western Canon). 
AP: I was really happy that you talked so much about hockey during interviews 
for [1995's] Thank You. I've become a big sports fan of late, which doesn't sit 
well with a lot of die-hard indie rockers. 
Hagerty: Yeah, it's anathema. It's like, I put my Led Zeppelin albums in the 
[used] bins in 1981, and I had to dig 'em back out two years later. You just 
can't switch from mainstream to alternative and let those two things exist 
independently. Compared to much, [hockey] is such a powerful thing. 
AP: How would you feel if a Royal Trux song got used at sporting events, like 
the Folk Implosion's "Natural One" did? 
Hagerty: That would be nice because that would put it in a more positive, social 

area, instead of being tucked away. You'd feel like it was part of something. 
Herrema: [Our songs] got used at hockey games down South a couple of times last 
year. I was so excited. I wish that shit would happen more often. 
AP: What's your first strong memory of music? 
Herrema: Because I was a TV addict, I remember all these ads for Elvis' comeback 

and stuff. I just thought he was heinous, a big fat slob. My mom had to explain 
to me that Elvis was really very cool. 
Hagerty: He died on the same day or during the same week that Groucho Marx died. 

I was way more upset about that - Groucho Marx was the king. 
Herrema: My dad was a big Coasters fan, so he'd sing funny songs to us when we 
going to sleep. And he'd explain that this was cool music when he was growing 
up. I thought they were so square because they wore suits. Anybody that wore a 
suit was square. 
Hagerty: [Examining an Emmylou Harris box set] She's so cool; they don't take 
her seriously in Nashville anymore. We were down there when we did Thank You. We 

recorded in Memphis, and David [Briggs, producer] took us into Nashville to 
edit. It was very bizarre. We saw the George Jones museum, [which] was pretty 
cool. They had his guitar case with two shot glasses and whisky-bottle holder 
built in. 
AP: You're big Aerosmith fans, right? [Jennifer nods] Which famous groupie is 
cooler, Pamela Des Barres or Stephen Tyler's former lover Bebe Buell? 
Herrema: Pamela Des Barres. She wrote those I'm With The Band books, but it 
seems like she never tried to make anything more of [being a groupie] than what 
it was, and she really cared about what she did for what it was. That said, I 
really don't know what Bebe Buell did. 
Hagerty: She's Liv Tyler's mother, right? 
AP: She's Liv Tyler's mother and her manager. I can't imagine working with my 
parents. 
Hagerty: My dad just did that last year. He gave me a song he wrote and wanted 
me to record it for him. He's been really sick the past couple of years; he was 
diagnosed with some cancer, and he's fighting it and dealing with that. I was 
willing to do anything for him... but I couldn't [record his song]. 
It was really hard, and I felt bad, but I couldn't do it. He works at a bank, so 

it would be like me just asking him for a loan because I'm his son. But I guess 
it's just because he wants to relate to me. Jennifer did those commercials for 
Calvin Klein, and that was the only thing my father and mom were interested in. 
Herrema: His whole family and my whole family: "Oh, when are you going to be on 
the TV?" 
Hagerty: We've been doing [Royal Trux] for 10, 12 years, and they were calling 
up: "Oh, my cousin Nancy says she saw you in Denver." 
"What? we haven't played Denver."
"No, no... the commercial." 
AP: Did you do a TV commercial or a print ad? 
Herrema: Both. For the cologne, CK One. 
Hagerty: I saw it like once. I thought it was really cool and funny, but [our 
families] thought it was ultimate, the pinnacle. 
Herrema: You're on TV.



The Ballad of Royal Trux
by Bob Bert
BB Gun, issue 3
1997

Although he denies it, Neil Hagerty was once a member of the legendary scuzzrock 

supergroup Pussy Galore. Neil joined John Spencer, Julia Cafritz and John 
Hammill in 1986 recording the EP Groovy Hate Fuck. The band then moved up to 
NYC. Neil and his girlfriend, future Trux partner and Calvin Klein model 
Jennifer Herrema followed Jon, Julie and Jon's future wife, Cristina Martinez, 
north from Washington DC. This is when I hooked up with these DC misfits. We 
soon recorded Exile on Main Street and Pussy Gold 5000 leading to the hopefully 
soon back in print classic Right Now! I always liked Neil. He never said too 
much but when he did say something it was memorable and usually funny. He's an 
incredible guitarist, his voice always counterpointed Jon's perfectly, and he 
wrote super songs. Exile couldn't have happened if it wasn't for him ... I 
remember the first time he came over my apartment, Linda asked him "Hey, Neil, I 

hear you can play anything on the guitar." Without missing a beat he said, 
"Everything." 
I also remember the day he walked into rehearsal and said, "From now on I shall 
be referred to as 'Royal Trux.'" The Royal Trux debut song is on side 2 of Right 

Now!, a little ditty called "Fix It," which Neil recorded on cassette in his 
room. He quit Pussy Galore the first time after diving into the van to punch Jon 

after a low-paying, thirty dollar show we did in New Brunswick, NJ. Jon refused 
to give him 10 bucks to buy a pack of cigs. It was around this time that Neil 
and Jennifer recorded the first Royal Trux album, a lo-fi gem containing the pop 

anthem "Strawberry Soda." After Pussy Galore recorded Sugarshit Sharp with new 
guitarist Kurt Wolf, Neil rejoined, making the Pussies a five-piece with no 
bass, touring Europe and recording Dial M for Motherfucker. Julie then left the 
band, and we toured the USA as a four piece. This is the hot summer tour, where 
as we were searched by Canadian border guards we found out that Neil traveled 
the entire tour bringing only a deflated basketball and a pump. Somehow we 
didn't get locked up. When asked why he brought the basketball and pump, Neil 
explained that he had seen a video of Black Flag and Greg Ginn said he never 
toured without his basketball. 
Pussy Galore then disintegrated due to many splintering factors. Jon, Neil and I 

reformed to record Historia De La Musica Rock in 1990. As we were about to 
embark on a European tour as a three-piece, Neil and Jennifer moved to San 
Francisco and refused to take our calls. Out in Frisco they became full-blown 
junkies. Jon got this amazing phone message one say, saying to send Neil's 
royalty checks to his father in Virginia because Neil was in jail for gun 
possession and his roommate was cashing his checks. It was around this time that 

Trux recorded Twin Infinitives for Drag City. Furthest left of the dial, this LP 

was ripping noise, clocking in at maximum density, climaxing with the epic 
fourteen minute "(Edge of the) Ape Oven." 
Despite total indie cred, life for Trux hit rock bottom, leaving this dynamic 
duo no choice but to get straight. They got a house in the mountains of 
Virginia, got a band together and recorded the self-titled Royal Trux, their 
most accessible recording to date, with the beautiful acoustic number "Junkie 
Nurse." [This is actually the Untitled album.] They were on a roll with the Back 

to School EP and Cats and Dogs LP. Royal Trux were at their peak. Around this 
time there was a huge Nirvana story somewhere [Spin magazine] where the author 
visited Kurt's house and noticed a Royal Trux record in the Cobain's collection. 

Virgin invested a fortune into Royal Trux and Jennifer bought a Jaguar. The 
major debut was produced by David Briggs, most known for his work with Neil 
Young. A Duran Duran LP was released the same month with the same title. Despite 

the hype, Thank You had a southern boogie thang happenin' thus alienating old 
Trux fans and gaining new ones. 
Which brings us to Sweet Sixteen, an LP with cover art of a toilet filled with 
assorted everything. Neil says this album is for the masses, not NY scenesters. 
Sweet Sixteen is a combination of styles from all earlier Trux albums. Royal 
Trux is now on tour with Pavement for 6 months, so how could I pass up meeting 
up with my ol' pals Neil and Jennifer. 
Bob: Didn't you get an offer to open for the Stones in Europe? 
Jennifer: We were like, let's not. That's a bad omen. You don't open for the 
Stones ... stupidest thing anybody could ever do. 
Bob: Why? 
Jennifer: What do you mean why? Every time I've seen the Stones, the opening 
band ... [makes a fart noise.] Even if it's any good! 
Bob: Yeah, I saw them once with Foreigner. 
Jennifer: I saw them with Bobby Womack and he was great but everybody was like, 
"alright already." 
Neil: It's the curse. Guns N Roses, Living Colour. They all broke up. 
Jennifer: Bad new, bad news. 
Bob: So It was a spiritual decision? 
Jennifer: Yeah. Bad idea. 
Bob: I got the tape of yr new album Sweet Sixteen and I dig it... 
Jennifer: Are you sure? 
Bob: Yeah, but I'll be truthful and say that I hated the last one (Thank You). 
Jennifer: Well, that was meant for you. We made that album for you. 
Bob: Thanks. 
Neil: Bob's gonna hate this one. 
Bob: When you made that one, your first one for Virgin, you went all out with a 
giant bus, road crew... Are you in debt for a buncha $$$? 
Neil: No. Our contract is so good. What do you think, we're stupid or something? 

They absorbed the costs. The only thing now is that they are not gonna spend any 

money on this record (Sweet Sixteen). 
Bob: Did you feel and pressure making this one? 
Neil: No. Our contract says that they have to give us the budget and we can 
spend it any way we want. 
Jennifer: We recorded it at home. We built a studio with the money. The A&R 
person wanted us to use her brother, who produced Rush and we said no. I was 
thinking of using David Briggs again but then he died. Everyone waned favors and 

we said, "fuck it we are doing it ourselves." They weren't really happy about 
any of it and they still aren't. 
Bob: When you turned it in, they didn't like it? 
Neil: Yeah, but there's nothing they can do about it. The last album we had a 
manager and a producer. It was our big major label debut so that probably 
influenced the music. With this one we decided how the music was gonna be cos we 

knew the record label wasn't gonna do anything. They were gonna hate it, no 
matter what. 
Jennifer: They have to cover their asses. 
Neil: All they do it go to the radio guy and go, "here," and if he doesn't like 
it, that's it. They call you back and go "the record's dead." 
Jennifer: Dead on arrival. 
Neil: Fuck it, we wanted everything to be fast, even the slow stuff. The drummer 

makes it move. 
Jennifer: You just put on the click track. 
Bob: A click track for the whole album? 
Jennifer: He's only comfortable with a click track. 
Neil: He's been training his whole life for a major label record. 
Bob: Has he been in other bands? 
Jennifer: All reggae bands. 
Neil: And a coupla metal bands. 
Bob: How long have you been substance-free? 
Neil: Five years now. 
Bob: Do you still go to NA Meetings? 
Neil: I go to online meetings now. It's cheesy but when you go to the real 
meetings you can tell people are high and it makes me uncomfortable. 
Bob: When was the last time you listened to Twin Infinitives? 
Neil: Last week. 
Bob: When you hear it do you think, "Man, I was sorta fucked up when we recorded 

this"? 
Neil: Oh no! It's just the way it's supposed to be. Just like Thank You. That's 
the whole deal with us. A lot of people are like, "I like this record or that 
one," a lot of people like Cats and Dogs and they don't like anything else. 
Bob: I loved all yr work until Thank You... which was everything I hate about 
rock... and everything I loved about Trux was gone! (laughing) 
Neil: We had to do an album like that ... It was the first time we had a real 
rock bass player. We had double drummers. 
Jennifer: If yr gonna do it, you gotta do it till the dead end. 
Bob: When I was in Europe, every time a TV was on I Saw yr Calvin Klein 
commercial. 
Jennifer: Yeah (making a gesture with her fingers insinuating mucho bucks). 
Bob: Did you get to hang out with Kate Moss and Joe D'Asslesandro? 
Jennifer: Joe's really cool, really nice and his son was there the whole time. 
Bob: What were you talking about? 
Jennifer: It's easy to shoot the shit with Joe. He came in and he showed me his 
fingers. He almost sliced his finger off working on his car 
Bob: How did you get involved with Calvin Klein? 
Jennifer: For Thank You there was a picture of Neil and myself on the cover of 
that music magazine Magnet. Meisel or one of his people saw it and read the 
interview and found out we were on Virgin Records, then called them. We had just 

sailed back on the boat from Europe. We arrived in NY and they asked if I would 
meet them. So, I met with them and they gave me the lowdown on what it was, like 

an androgynous thing, which I really dig. 
Bob: Neil, why do you not acknowledge the fact that you were in Pussy Galore? 
Neil: Totally. I don't talk about Jon, I just deny that I was in Pussy Galore. 
Bob: Why, are you embarrassed or something? 
Neil: No. It's just better left unsaid, something that people can discover 
later. I don't want to be associated with it because it's not my deal. 
Bob: It's not my deal either but once yr in something yr associated with it. 
Neil: Yeah, but I just totally cut it out. It makes some people mad, you know. 
Our manager said at this point it would be a good thing to associate with and I 
said "No way." 
Bob: All those records will eventually be re-released so you'll have a hard time 

hiding from it. 
Neil: Also, in England they would ask me a lot of questions about Pussy Galore. 
Bob: Pussy Galore is now a myth since everything is out of print and 
unavailable. Jon's becoming extremely popular and everyone went on to be in 
other bands. Therefore, Pussy Galore is inescapable. Now there's hundreds of 
bands trying to sound like PG. 
Neil: It only could have gone so far. 
Bob: I'm not saying it should have gone further... 
Neil: They can give us a million dollars apiece to do a reunion tour ... 
Bob: Would you do it? 
Neil: For a million dollars, god! 
Jennifer: I'd make him do it. Get your ass out there! 
Neil: It's good to put some distance. We're trying to deal with people perhaps a 

bit more picky... 
Bob: What are you talking about? 
Jennifer: Punk rock. 
Neil: Anyone that hates punk rock. We came back from San Francisco before I went 

into rehab, I was working in this restaurant. I had that Ramones tape, Pleasant 
Dreams, and I played it for the bartenders who listened to Jimmy Buffet every 
day. It's a bizarre fuckin world and like they have never heard of them! It just 

blew my mind! I thought everybody's heard of the fuckin Ramones! They're like 
the Monkees or something! They were laughing at me: YOU'RE A FREAK! God, it was 
so fuckin weird!! So many different fuckin levels of society. No one really 
cares and the press people just keep asking, asking, asking about that [Pussy 
Galore]. The first time I was in England, I think I said something about Jon. 
They asked, "What do you think about Jon's Blues Explosion?" And I probably 
said, "Ah! It sucks!" or something ... Give them something to write about.


Interview with Royal Trux
by Amy Kellner and Bob Nickas
Index Magazine, issue 3
1997

When Jennifer Herrema, lead singer for the Royal Trux, stands on stage, legs 
apart, hips thrust forward, a huge ten-gallon cowboy hat covering her face, and 
all you see are those big tough lips with that impossibly hoarse voice - and 
hey, did she just spit at that guy? - it's like stay back, man. And Neil Hagerty 

hunched in the corner of the satge, all straggly hair and fanciful guitar licks, 

it's something to be caustiously admired from afar. 
And then there's the Sid-n-Nancy couple cliche, which doesn't even apply to them 

anymore, but somehow lingers. It's hard to let go of such a juicy and oddly 
traditional thing. Well, suffice to say, we were prepared for some serious 
interviewer torment. But guess what? They were so polite, almost parental, as 
they languidly chain-smoked in their tiny SoHo Grand Hotel room. 
Royal Trux basic info: In the '80s, Neil was in the star-studded superband Pussy 

Galore, then came the Trux, with mostly just Neil, Jennifer, and assorted 
musical machinery. The sound was deconstructed and demented classic rock. 
Sloppy, weird and experimental, but also a serious penchant for 
muscle-car-boogie-rock. In music lingo, you would say that they've gotten 
"tighter" recently, with a full band and more structured songs. All of which 
gives the Trux a serious, new aggressivity. 
Their music has changed so much, and maybe they have too, but really what's 
inportant is that their brand new album, Sweet Sixteen, totally rocks. 
Amy Kellner: So Jennifer, you kissed me. 
Jennifer Herrema: That was you?! 
AK: That was me. 
JH: Excellent. I have to tell Liz because I have the playing cards and she wants 

them so bad. that was you? 
AK: I was wondering if you were going to recognize me or not. 
JH: I didn't, because you had really black hair and you were wearing those crazy 

glasses. 
AK: Those got stolen in Memphis! Those were one-of-a-kind. 
JH: Bummer. 
Bob Nickas: What are you talking about? 
AK: I gave Jennifer a deck of nudie cards in exchange for a kiss at the Indie 
Rock Flea Market in Arlington, Virginia last August. 
JH: It was a shit hole. 
BN: What were you doing there? 
JH: I was hawking Dan's wares for Drag City. He came halfway across the United 
States to do this thing, and he was staying at our house, so I schlepped over 
and helped him out. 
AK: how did you come up with that idea? 
JH: Oh, we were just bored. I mean , there was nothing going on. 
BN: What happened? 
AK; It was like, ten dollars to get a picture of Jennifer kissing you. 
JH: Do you have the picture? 
AK: I do. I didn't bring it, but I'll send you a copy. So did lots pf people 
kiss you? 
JH: Not lots. Probably five or six. 
AK: All boys? 
JH: Yeah, you were the only girl. 
AK: It was the only fun thing to do there. Buy a record or buy a kiss. Which 
would you want? 
JH: They had lots of shitty bands playing. 
BN: So, we've been listening to your new record. It was really great to listen 
to it this morning, after seeing you play last night. There;s so much stuff 
going on, on the record. It's like, chock-full of lots of instruments and 
sounds. Really action-packed. It seems like everything you've done until now, 
that you're ablt to do, you can put into one song. Some songs sound like three 
different ones spliced together. And really produced. But when I saw you play, I 

thought , oh, they're actually doing this live. The records brings the two 
together. It's a really produced, live record. 
Neil Hagerty: Yeah. 
BN: And you did that yourself, at home? 
NH: Yeah, we did the initial recording at home and then we had it mixed by this 
guy. Do you know this band called Collective soul? It's just some platinum 
rock... 
AK: They're on like, VH-1, right? 
JH: Yeah, they're generic rock. 
AK: And they produced it? 
JH: No! This has nothing to do with that band. Good lord. 
NH: The guy just mixed it. 
JH: The engineer. 
NH: The overseer. He just kind of organizes it along those terms. 
AK: What was that weird drum thing that guy was playing? 
NH: I have him play electronic drums because he plays really loud. When we first 

started out, Jennifer played bass and I played guitar. And we had a guy who 
played keyboards and rhythm machine. 
AK: And what was that weird horn that looked lke a bong? 
NH: Chris, yeah, he just got back from a trip around the world, and he picked up 

a bunch of horns and stuff. 
AK: And what does the Arabic writing on your banner say? 
NH: It says Royal Trux. 
AK: I can write Royal Trux out in Hebew for you. 
NH: Side by side. "You decide." I guess we like the Arab world right now. You 
know how gangsta rap is dying, well we're going to start the Islamic 
fundamentalist punk rock. You know, like Kim Fowley... 
BN: Oh, yeah. 
NH: He started the Runaways. He's always looking for an idea. One time he was 
going to have a band that was going to be like, the Martian band. They were 
going to be like Kiss with green makeup and little antennas, and sing weird 
songs about Mars. So our project is going to be the Islamic Fundamentalist band. 

I think it can be successful. 
AK; Oh, that's going to be a ruckus. 
NH: Yeah, you know what I mean? 
AK: Shake things up. 
NH: It's like the way gangsta rap offends parents or something, so kids like it.
JH: So what are you saying? 
NH: What? 
AK: But you don't believe in that? You just want to do it to shake things up? 
NH: We're always trying to understand why things are popular. 
BN: I hate to admit it, but I went, out of professional research, to see that 
movies called Hype... 
AK: The "grunge" movie. 
BN: Dead moon was in it, and they came across as one of the absolutely most 
honest-to-goodness bands in it. 
JH: Well, they're a great band. 
BN: There was a scene where the guy was actually cutting grooves into their 
records. 
NH: They're totally self-contained. They book their own shows, and press their 
own records. Everything, man. 
AK: What does their music sound like? 
JH: It sounds a lot like AC/DC. If you like AC/DC, you'll love them. 
AK: Your voice sounds like AC/DC, Jennifer. 
JH: Oh, I love AC/DC, I mean, that's why I love Dead Moon. [points down to tape 
recorder] Battry light's going off. 
AK: Bob, I thought you got new batteries. 
BN: No, they're brand new. I think it's okay. I hope. 
NH: Just a faulty battery light. 
JH: It just blinks all the time. [Neil is staring out the window) 
NH: There's a guy getting dressed over there in that window. He's got a T-shirt 
on. He just got off the Health Rider. "Two pounds!" 
BN: So, do you mind if I ask if there's a normal day in the life of Royal Trux? 
When you're just home, not on tour, doing normal home things, or whatever you 
do. 
NH: It's all work. 
BN: Well, we don't want to pry. 
AK: I want to pry. 
NH: Jennifer gets up earlier. 
JH: I go to the gym. 
BN: I'm personally anti-gym. 
NH: To each his own. It's a free country. 
JH: I have to walk. I have to walk on a treadmill. I can't get endorphins any 
other way, other than eating chocolate. 
AK: What about walking outside? 
JH: I don't like it outside. 
NH: It's gotten dangerous. The roads are very narrow. There's no curbs or 
sidewalks. 
AK: It's probably really pretty where you live. 
NH: yeah, but there's a lot of foxes and alot of snakes and a lot of shit 
kickers. Where we take our trash, there's like KKK and that kind of shit on the 
dumpster. 
JH: The gym is a storefront, that's all. It's about an hour away. 
AK: What do you do when you walk on the treadmill? 
JH: I watch TV. 
NH: She avoids eye contact. 
BN: Do you have pets? 
AK: Pets! Let's talk about pets. 
NH: Oh, yeah, we have three great cats. 
AK: Cats! Are you cat people? Oh, I'm so glad. Bob's a dog person. Go away. 
JH: I love dogs but I'm allergic. 
AK: What are your kittie's names? 
NH: Two sisters named Sam and Rudy, and then... 
JH: A little boy. 
NH: A little boy named Joey, who's Abyssinian, he's like an AKC-type. They're 
pure-bred. 
AK: Oh, fancy. 
NH: Yeah, we had this one boy cat namd Leon, and when we were on tour he died. 
AK: Oh, no! Why did he die? 
NH: He ate thread. 
AK: And he died from it? 
NH: Yeah, we didn't know. It doesn't break down because it's got fiber inside 
it, it's wrapped around. They have constant peristaltic action, so thethread 
acts like a razor. Their instestines are constantly moving, and the thread 
doesn't degrade. It's almost pure cotton. 
AK: Shit, that makes me really nervous because I have a ball of twine. 
NH: Oh, twine is okay. It breaks off, yeah. Our cats eat pieces of the rug. The 
other day, Joey caught a bat and it was insane. 
AK: He caught a bat? 
NH: He went to the chimney, and there was this little baby bat. It was so cute. 
JH: It was so cute. 
NH: I got it and kicked him... 
AK: The bat? 
NH: Well, the cat,he had him. I was afraid of him getting rabies. If a bat gets 
close enough to you that you can touch it, it's probably rabid becuase it's 
crazy. So I stepped on the bat, and I pushed him away, because he wanted to play 

with it. I was looking for something to get, like a pan, to pick the bat up and 
put it back outside, but there was nothing, and I couldn't let go, so I grabbed 
a magazine, like a bid Vogue with a think spine. I had to kill it. It was 
terrible. But exciting. 
AK: wel, cats are supposed to be able to catch little critters. 
NH: Oh, yeah, they get mice. 
JH: In the summertime, they catch lizzards and then in the wintertime they catch 

snakes and bats. And all year round, an occasional mouse. 
AK: My cat, she sees a roach in my apartment and she's like, "Oh, a friend," and 

just plays with it. 
JH: But that's what it is, really. When they catch them, they play with them to 
death. 
AK: And then she'll eat it. 
BN: You seem to have a lot of wildlife. 
NH: There's a Walmart about an hour or forty minutes away. 
JH: I love Walmart. 
NH: See, Walmart destroys... 
JH: You guys must have really strong ideas about things that you will and won't 
do. Is there anything that you will and you won't do. Is there anything that you 

just won't do, or that you're completely against, as far as like... 
NH: ...supporting the Christian Coalition? 
JH: Well, no... 
NH: You're saying, morally or personally? 
JH: No... 
NH: Like, "I smoke pot, but I never do cocaine?" 
JH: No, like, "I don't wear gold." 
AK: You don't wear gold? 
JH: Oh, I wear gold. 
BN: Like, not wearing fur? I don't think men should wear fur anyway. 
AK: What do you mean, men shouldn't wear fur? 
JH: But that's what he thinks. 
NH: Ths rationale for wearing fur, "but it's already dead," that doesn't cut it. 

I don't think it's right. 
AK: I don't understand... something I wouldn't do? 
NH: Is it class you're talking about? 
JH: No, I'm just asking. A lot of times people won't reach out to something 
that's right there in the present. it's always like giong forward or backward, 
ans sometimes people reject exactly what's happening in the present. 
AK: The moment there's something new on TV or on the radio, people are like... 
NH: I like The X Files. 
AK: Oh, X Files rules. Did you see the one with the guy who could take pictures 
with his mind? 
NH: Yeah, that was a good one. 
AK: That was rad. That was the best one. 
NH: We don't like Friends. 
AK: Well, god, who does? 
NH: It's sort of like a funny Melrose Place. 
AK: How did talking about Walmart get to this? 
NH: Walmrt's bad, man 
AK: is it? 
NH: The truth of the matteris, they go into a local economy and they run 
roughshod over laws of the environment and all that. 
JH: Exactly. 
NH: They unemploy all these people. They employ people, but it's all like part 
time, no benefits. They put all the little stores out of business. Like, the 
little hardware stores. 
AK: I actually stole a bunch from Walmart. 
NH: That's good. Yeah, steal from Walmart. 
AK: I got a fuzzy steering wheel cover. 
JH: We got a really good car air freshener. 
AK: We got a classy Jesus air freshener. 
JH: We have concerts at our Walmart. 
NH: There was this bus parked in front of the Walmart... 
JH: It was like a gospel Christian thing going on, and the guy was selling his 
records. 
NH: It was like an in-store thing. 
AK: That's rad, Walmart in-store. We should have that at Kmart here. 
BN: We've got two Kmarts in the city now. 
AK: There's one in Penn Plaza. 
NH: In the train station? 
AK: It's at 34th Street, across from Madison Square Garden. I went in to check 
out the Jaclyn Smith Collection, but I was really disappointed. I was expecting 
more rhinestones. There were no rhinestones. 
NH: No, it's very conservative. They use prison labor and stuff. 
AK: The other place opened on Astor place! 
NH: I remember when that Gap opened up on St. Marks. There was a huge protest. 
AK: New York's going down the tubes. 
NH: It's turning into New Jersey. 
BN: I have a theory that eventually everybody will have all their stuff in 
mini-storages in the city but they'll all be living elsewhere. The city will 
just be lots of mini-storages with combinations and lockers. Like, where did 
everyone go? 
NH: That would be great. Where we live is like, people like James Carville and 
Robert Duvall live, and they put money into the economy. But there's a lot of 
people that are just week-end people. and they work in D.C. They're 
under-assistant secretary to Congress or whatever. But all of the people that 
really lived there their entire lives, I don't know how they make their money. 
They still have Aid to Dependent Children and the foodstamps and stuff. But we 
can only live out there because we've got this contract with fucking Virgin, so 
we're kind of disciplining ourselves... 
AK: Saving up? 
NH: Yeah, I mean, because after this thing, who knows what's going to happen? It 

might be the only money we ever get, you know. 
AK: Are you saving up for retirement? 
NH: Oh, no, just to have enough to buy food and make records. 
AK: Yeah. 
BN: What's the rest of the day like? You come back from the gym... 
JH: I'm only allowed to go three times a week. 
AK: What do you mean "allowed?" 
JH: We have a pact. There's a serial killer around. 
BN: You're kidding. 
JH: No, he's in our county, and he's killed four women, and there's two missing. 

So we have a time schedule. 
NH: Where she goes to the gym is the hunting ground. 
AK: Do you pack heat? 
NH: Well, at home. 
AK: Yeah? 
JH: But I don't take it out, I can't carry it in the car. I don't have a license 

to do that. 
NH: In Virginia, there's a concealed weapon law. So you can take a class, and 
you can carry a damn holster... 
JH: We're going to apply... 
BN: You just leave it on the outside? 
NH: No, it can be concealed. You carry it in your glove compartment. When you 
get stopped, you show the guy your license and your concealed weapon thing. But 
see, the people in Arlington, in Northern Virginia, they're really not happy 
about it because it's going to be like, people from D.C. will cross the river 
and buy their guns. 
AK: Do you go in back of your house and shout at cans and stuff? 
JH: I do. 
NH: I'm afraid that the bullet's going to ricochet. 
JH: I've got a lot of trophies. 
AK: That's awesome. Did you see the movie, Gun Crazy, with Drew Barrymore? 
JH: No, was that any good? 
AK: I would give it a thumbs-up. 
JH: All right, I'll rent it. 
AK: actually, there's an original from the '50s. 
BN: That's really good. 
AK: But I like Drew Barrymore. 
JH: Why do you like her? 
AK: Why? She's cute as the dickens. 
BN: She's a survivor. 
AK: You don't think Drew Barrymore is cute? 
JH: Oh, I think she's beautiful. 
BN: You know when you were asking about things we're against, well, I'm really 
against being arrested. 
NH: I'm with you. 
AK: Well, I'm into the five finger discount. 
JH: But the difference from you getting arrested and her getting arrested is 
probably pretty big, for some reason. 
BN: Amy was arrested on behalf of the magazine, for illegally putting up 
posters. 
AK: It was so obvious that they treated me and my friend really well becuse we 
were white. And there was this black guy in the holding cell with us, and they 
were going off on him so much. And he was just like this drunk guy. 
NH: They probably might try to scare you or something, do you know what I mean? 
When I was doing drugs, that was the main thing. 
AK: I put on a whole little-innocent-girl act. 
JH: It's cool to break out the girlie action. 
AK: Batting my eyelashes. 
NH: But isn't that anti-feminist? 
AK: Hey! 
JH: Are you a feminist? 
AK: Of course. 
NH: That's like a carnival sin, mortal sin. 
JH: To break out the girlie action? 
AK: But you have to know how to use it. It's just about being aware and knowing 
exactly what the situation is, and playing it for all it's worth. 
NH: I thought feminism had a responsibility not to ever give in to gender 
stereotypes. 
AK: Well, if they would have asked me to go on a date I would have said no. 
JH: Yeah, what if it came to that? What if they said, "You're in here for a week 

if you don't go out on a date with me." 
AK: Well, luckily that didn't happen. 
JH: What would you have done? 
AK: I don't know what what I would have done. 
JH: Isn't that weird? 
AK: Shit. 
JH: What do you think about prostitution and stripping and stuff like that? 
AK: It's not about policing. Do what you wanna do. Feminists get a bad rap, like 

they're these moral judgment people. But that's just the media perception of 
feminism. The media is always anti-feminism, so they potray them as being ome 
kind of "femi-nazis." I hate that. 
NH: Yeah, that's the key. Rush Limbaugh. 
AK: It's bullshit. 
JH: That's how I supported us for five years. 
AK: Oh, really, you stripped? 
JH: Five years. 
NH: Yeah, she supported us for years. 
AK: Did you feel that you had total power over all the men, even though they 
think they have power over you? 
JH: Well, I think a lot of females use that as a rationale. Because some people 
really feel that way, and other people need to find a reason. And so, it's 
really hard to tell the difference. And people that generally end up unhappy are 

the people tht just can't get with that. They never, in their hearts, feel that 
way. 
AK: some people who strip talk about how they get addicted to it... 
JH: Oh yeah. 
AK: ... how they needed that attention. 
JH: In Atlanta, we played at a strip club on the stage, and the dancers danced 
with us. 
BN: When was this? 
NH: '93. 
BN: Was it their usual audience, or a mix of your audience and the strip club 
audience? 
JH: It was a mix. But the strippers had to dance to our music, so they were on 
the bars and stuff, it was excellent. 
AK: When you stripped, were those things you had to do? Like, dance moves? 
JH: Oh, no. No, I mean, if you watch, you can see who makes the most money, and 
it depends on how much money you want to make. 
AK: But there's nothing you have to do? 
JH: You just have to be naked. 
BN: Was that your idea for the band to play a strip club? 
NH: The promoter did it because there was a time when we were still like, the 
junkie band, but we were actually clean. So we were still in this sort of 
circle, like junkie stripper, you know, underground... 
JH: Yeah, the whole thing that's become extremely cliche at this time. 
AK: People still talk about that. 
NH: We'll do your survivor thing. I mean, we live in Virginia, and for me it's 
interesting because I moved back to where I went to high school, where I was 
always getting rejected by everybody. and I'm doing great now, and it's like, 
everybody said I was crazy or gay or whatever, like throwing names at me all 
through high school. And now I'm making a heap of money and they're all working 
in computers... 
JH: In your face. 
NH: You got to go back and tell those kids that could be like me or you, and 
say, don't buy into this crap. Because it looks like the abyss... 
JH: That's what are songs and albums are about. 
NH: That's what this new album is about. It's not for like, New York 
intellectual scenemakers. It's really for middle America. 
JH: It's just for other people, like... 
NH: We went to New York, you know. We did fine in New York. 
JH: None of it really makes any sense, I mean... being able to wrap a label 
around me. 
BN: You're saying that this new record is like, lookin into the abyss? 
NH: Yeah, when you grow up in the suburbs it's so weird because you have 
bourgeois comforts, but you don't have many choices. You have enough of the 
taste of what it's like to not be a fucking poor working class person that 
you're just going to buy into what your teachers say or what your parents say. 
JH: Entitlement. 
NH: Do you know what I mean? Because it doesn't look like there's much choice, 
other than going really extreme, like dropping out or whatever. 
JH: Then it became more political. 
AK: so are all the people who dissed you in high school trying to be your 
buddies? 
NH: No, I don't really see them. a couple of people vave called me, but hers, 
everyone suddenly is like, "Oh, Jennifer, you were my best friend." 
BN: They have nerve to call and say, "Hi, I made your life miserable when you 
were 14..." 
JH: They act like it never happened. 
NH: I mean, I wasn't like, I was just insane. I probably scared more people than 

anything. But I was trying to say - look, I'm no different from..." 
JH: There's a lot of family members that actually speak to me now because I've 
been recognised by a corporate entity, as a human being. 
NH: Oh, once she did this CK deal... 
AK: For months, it was like, there goes Jennifer on a bus. 
NH: We saw that, yeah. 
JH: But isn't that kind of fucked up that my grandfather talks to me now because 

of that? I'm glad he does, but isn't that kind of weird? 
AK: Yeah, legitimization. 
BN: Did you start playing music when you were really young? Did you actually 
play in bands when you were teenagers? 
NH: Yeah, I have. 
JH: well, I didn't play in the bands, because my high school, there just weren't 

that many kids around at all. There were twenty people in my graduating class 
and most of them lived uptown... but I was into music, in my bedroom, by myself 
a lot. 
AK: What did you listen to in high school? 
JH: I listened to Discharge, GBH, that kind of thing for a long time. Then I got 

into Van Halen. 
AK: See, with me, it was the opposite. First it was Van Halen. 
NH: When I first met you, you had the Beastie Boys' 7 inch, Pollywog Stew. You 
had Tank, and Long Run by the Eagles. You had this weird mix of records that 
your parents bought you and then punk rock singles. 
JH: I loved Tank. 
NH: She also liked that gothic shit a little bit, you had some of that stuff, 
Siouxsie and the Banshees. 
AK: Everyone has to go through a goth stage, that's my theory. 
BN: I didn't... Neil, what were you listening to? 
NH: Oh, I liked Ornette Coleman. 
AK: In high school? 
NH: I'm a self-made man. 
AK: What's the first show you ever saw? 
JH: Bad Brains. My first stadium show was Rush. 
NH: Flipper. There's a band that I've seen the most of any band. Them and Black 
Flag are the two. That's my golden era. And the Meat Puppets. 
BN: What magazines do you read? 
NH: We get The New York Review of Books, The New Yorker, The Nation, The Wall 
Street Journal. 
BN: The Wall Street Journal? 
NH: See, I have a database I'm building up, like, this part of the day in the 
life, right? I get up and she goes to the P.O. Box after the gym. Comes back, 
she wakes me up. We have coffee, we talk. And then she does something, and I'll 
usually go with the newspaper. Every day I clip out five articles and then put 
them in our little database, so we have it on a computer. 
JH: It's pretty good now. You can just open your mouth and say a word, and type 
it in, and a really great article will pop up. 
BN: What kind of articles are you clipping? 
NH: Just weird things, the sort of hint at like, inadvertent classification in 
America. There's no classes in America - that's a whole lie. So we take anything 

that has to do with that, like, some guy makes a liberal point and reveals this 
totally ingrown homophobia or whatever. There was this thing about feminists 
against porn, like feminists really having a hatred of the lower class and 
working class. Because working, lower classes are mostly the consumers of 
pornography. 
AK: Well, I can just say that feminists against porn is a totally antiquated 
idea that has nothing to do with contemporary feminism. Feminism pretty pro-porn 

now. 
NH: What about propane, that's our field source down where we live. Yeah, we 
don't use any oil or anything. 
BN: We don't have to run this in our magazine, we can give it to Ms. magazine. 
JH: Is that a subtle hint to change the subject? 
BN: Is wasn't that subtle. 
AK: Fuck you. Bob doesn't like talking about anything I like talking about. 
NH: In Charlottesville, Virginia we had to lie and say we were married, to get 
our house. 
AK: They wouldn't let a guy and a girl live together? 
NH: Yeah, and it's against the law totally. 
AK: No way. 
NH: But they just ignore it because they answer to a higher authority. It's 
like, good Lord, think about Barney Frank. He's the only openly-gay Congressman, 

and they call him Barney Fag. It's the most backward shit. 
AK: See, that's the thing, that's what you hear about in the south, and so when 
I went down there I was terrified. 
NH: everything is very slow. That's what I like about living in Virginia, it's 
just like, there's no time there. we're trying to get our driveway fixed because 

the hurricane came and swept it away. And now it's like this pit, rutted, just 
screwing up our car. So we try to get this guy to come fix it, it's like, "Yeah, 

I'll be there." But a month goes by and he's like, "Oh, I'll be out there, don't 

worry." And he just wanders away. 
[tape recorder clicks off] 
BN: I guess that's it. Five to nine. 
NH: I'm going to catch The X Files.


On The Nod With Royal Trux
Interview with Jennifer Herrema
by Nik Rainey
Lollipop Magazine, issue 35
May 1997

LM: Jennifer, how's it going? 
JH: Uhhh... (pause) okay. 
LM: (Bravely) Uh, great. So, you consider Sweet Sixteen (Virgin) your most 
positive record to date. How so? 
JH: (pause, cough) More beats per second. (long pause) 
LM: Ah. Nothing in the lyrical attitude or anything? 
JH: Uhhh... yeah, it's just about...uhhh...the information. We've just got a 
better line on the information, where it's...uh...given out. 
LM: Sure, sure. Having heard your previous records, you seem to have grown out a 

little closer to the conventional rock thing. Is that fair to say? 
JH: Umm... you know, things change. (pause) 
LM: What in particular? 
JH: (pause) You know, I don't live in a shelter anymore, I live in my own house. 

I, ah... I get sick maybe once or twice a year now... I used to get the flu a 
lot and uh... (pause) we had to leave a lot of friends behind. (long pause) 
LM: (Starting to get worried now) So, what do you find are common misconceptions 

about Royal Trux? 
JH: Well, first, nobody seems to know the difference between my voice and 
Neil's. (long pause) And other than that, it's, uhhh... I'd say that the line 
between... consciously making decisions, affecting our surroundings, bound with 
allowing things to happen and being okay with that. I think that in the past, 
um... we've been commonly perceived as victims. (low, ominous) It's not true. 
LM: Have your compositional methods changed at all? 
JH: Um... not really that much, actually. (pause) You know... willful 
progressions. Willfully making ourselves (inaudible) future... crucial. But at 
the same time not letting ourselves, uh... you know. It's not strictly chemical, 

or... (pause) 
LM: Have you gotten much feedback on the album yet? 
JH: Uh, yeah... we've gotten feedback. Our record company really, really very 
much disliked this record. And our lawyer very much liked it, so... bit of a 
scandal. The, uhhh... I guess, you know, everybody I've spoken to... uh... has 
had... positive things to say. The things I read were, uh, sulky and like... it 
was inevitable that we'd leave some people behind. We've gotta shake 'em off. 
LM: What were the objections? 
JH: Um, too many notes, you know, and all sorts of political objections as well. 

We didn't exactly... um, feed... the machine by producing it ourselves and 
building our own studio. We met with a lot of hostility on that. There are 
people there... uh... that dig it, you know. And there are those that would not 
let it, uh... (pause) infiltrate. 
LM: Do you find life on the road at all debilitating? 
JH: Uh...(sigh)... yeah, I mean, it's, uh... I'd prefer to be left alone. I like 

to play, but in the end I'd prefer to be alone. 
LM: You have one more record to do for Virgin - what next? 
JH: Yeah, I mean, there's a lot... Neil's got a novel coming out, we've got a 
double album of outtakes and... out-of-print stuff coming out on Drag City this 
September, and, uh... (pause) 
LM: Neil wrote a novel, huh? 
JH: Yeah. (coughs) It's called Victory Chimp. 
LM: What's it about? 
JH: Uhhh...(pause) I don't know. (long, LONG pause) 


1 9 9 8 

Living in a State of Trux
by Chris Houghton
Bleedmusic
1998

Amid releasing seven of the most taut, fervent and hi-octane rock n' roll 
records of the last two decades, Royal Trux have been junkies, dope dealers 
and Calvin Klein models; until recently they notoriously refused to do more 
than token interviews.
Oh yeah, and they probably hate you. But it's nothing personal, mind, and 
probably just a bad seasonal case of "stimulus overload"...
Ninety-nine percent of rock in Y2K is a pathetic parody of its former glory. 
It's afraid to scare and afraid to venture beyond being Pop With Guitars. It 
has brought us a pila pastiche slush where pulsing ambition has been replaced 
by a soppy plastic shell, soul and invective displaced by quarterly finance 
reports.
So thank fuck we've still got Royal Trux, who are, along with Jon Spencer 
Blues Explosion, Fugazi and Make Up, the leading lights of US alt-rock, the 
remaining fireworks in a world of fuzzy maybes.
Basically (and it does come down to such simplistic measures. That's the 
point), if you think there is a more perfect rock star than Trux's frontwoman 
Jennifer Herrera - currently sitting next to me, aqua shades glued to her 
face, permanently drawing on a cigarette, immersed in a poncho, looking 
immaculate - then you're wrong. Even, when, a week later, I see them explode a 
tiny Oxford back room full of students, with sweat bouncing off the walls, 
she's the only person in the whole venue not appearing even slightly 
flustered.
I really do want to hate her. Believe me, I've tried.
Balancing Herrara's sonic impulses is her life-partner Neil Hagerty, possibly 
the smoothest guitar hero you'll ever have the pleasure of witnessing. He 
missed their 1998 Reading show, temporarily replaced by David Pajo 
(Slint/Aerial M), because of a fear of flying - only recently remedied by 
hypnotherapy.
"Yeah, well it was a problem with touring 'cos before Neil would take a boat," 
purrs Herrera, "and the boat wouldn't run in the winter, so that kinda limited 
our options. But he flew over this time, and it was probably the worst flight 
I've ever been on. I was terrified, I thought we were gonna wreck. The 
turbulence was so bad we were dropping hundreds of feet really quickly for a 
good thirty-five minutes. I think I was more terrified than him.
"That Reading show was like an acid trip. We missed our flight and we had to 
fly out and they picked us up from the airport and took us to Reading. We had 
been up all night waiting for the next plane and we were all totally delirious 
and as soon as we finished playing they drove us back to the airport. I didn't 
even know what was going on. But it was cool."
The reason they're over in England is their new album, the sonic blitzkrieg of 
"Veterans of Disorder", extending on their decadal trinity of "Sweet 16", 
"Thank You" and 1998s "Accelerator" (intended to represent music from the 60s, 
70s and 80s respectively).
"Well, it's a collection of singles," she quips. "Pretty much an album made 
for the channel-surfing generation, going from sound to sound, as I said, for 
people with very low attention spans."
Even though you've got a ten-minute song with a seven-minute solo on it?
"That's why it's at the end," she laughs. "so you can just turn the TV off."
In Bristol tonight they're playing with Make-Up, Washington D.C.'s finest 
punk/soul quintet and longtime cohorts. Indeed, Jennifer and Neil produced 
Make Up's incendiary "In Mass Mind" album in 1998. Do you feel some sort of 
affinity with other?
"It's cool to play together so we can hang out because we've known each other 
for ages, but we've got very different audiences back in America - they only 
play all-ages shows, and we don't allow anyone under the age of eighteen into 
our shows."
Why not?
Herrera fixes me an evil glare, then spits: "'Cos we just hate children." 
She's not joking. 
Can you every see yourself having kids?
"No. Children are stupid. Weren't you stupid when you were a kid? I was stupid 
when I was a kid."
They've released seven albums since their inception in 1990 when Neil Hagerty 
splintered from Pussy Galore (snarling garage rock n' rollers featuring Jon 
Spencer; the band who infamously released a track by track cover of the 
Stones' "Exile on Main Street album) in the late 80s and have influenced 
everyone from Kurt Cobain to Bobby Gillespie, but in this country especially, 
they still remain excruciatingly esoteric. But Hererra's not bothered.
"We don't need to get noticed. We know we make a difference with what we're 
doing and we create an option. It's all quite dull right now. People have low 
attention spans. That was our comment with the record. I think that the people 
that continue to listen to us realise we're doing it for them. If we didn't 
give a shit we'd just make the same record over and over again and say 'Fuck 
you buy it anyway.'"
Having been through Virgin in the post-Nirvana major label guitar eruption, 
taking with them a million and a half dollar advance, Trux were dropped after 
the much-maligned "Sweet 16" album, gaining financial security ("we weren't 
self-supporting until Virgin came along...I always had to do some bullshit, sell 

drugs or whatever. Before [Virgin], we didn't have any money. Neil had to pawn 
his guitar") and a Virginia ranch in the process, in which they shack 
themselves up in seclusion for much of the year with their cats...
"Most people I meet are pretty high-maintenance, and I just can't be bothered 
with that. With my cat, I just change the litter box."
But you seem to be a nice person.
"It depends on the day. Being around people is fine at the moment; we've just 
started the tour. But I know that in four weeks I won't have to be around 
anybody for three months. So all I've gotta keep thinking is "four weeks, four 
weeks, four weeks!". Y'know, I wouldn't come out and tour and play and 
whatever if I didn't want to - when I commit to it, I do it.
"It's not like we're completely shut off from the music industry. We're really 
addicted to TV, so we know exactly what's going on around us, although I must 
say we don't have MTV. I get a lot more work done this way; there's not as 
many distractions, there's no stimulus overload. Y'know how things just come 
and go around in circles in big cities but it always seems how they're going 
forward? 'Cos everything seems to be new, but a month later you look back in 
retrospect and you realise what's passed is prologue-ing you - and you're 
going around again and around again. And that is just annoying so I keep out 
of it."
Mindfuel for a new generation. Get in on it.



No Sympathy for the Record Industry
by Brandon
The Noise Report
1998

Neil Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema make-up what is Royal Trux. They've been 
around for about 10 years now. After two major label releases, the band has 
returned, older and wiser, to their home label, Drag City, and their new album, 
Accelerator, is one of their best albums to date. I talked with Neil recently 
about their music, and recent expieriences with the industry.
Brandon: Royal Trux's music seems to pay homage to what we consider "classic" 
rock while completely deconstructing its principles. Where do you think you fit 
in. What's it all about?Brandon:
Neil: It's just anti-hero worship...against...the whole idolotry of people who 
don't really do anything - like celebrities, and all that crap. Just trying to 
celebrate the banal, the commonplace. In that sense it's like rock 'n roll. 
Chuck Berry sings about cars and such, very simple things. And yet these guys 
later on in the seventies, eighties, and nineties, your seen as some superstar 
or else your just some schmuck. It happens in every form of pop culture. It's a 
wall - a huge fight. We can shout about it until the end of our days.
Brandon: So, you're talking about the contrast between superstardom and excess 
with the roots of rock in simplicity.Brandon:
Neil: Yeah, sort of...well...in the positive sense, someone like the Rolling 
Stones or in America, the early Greatful Dead were so completely 
anti-establishment...Just like "Fuck you" or whatever...and twenty years later 
they're seen as these jokes. And so they make that trade-off, where their 
rebelliousness just gets susumed or something. And they're really getting away 
with murder on the one hand, and you should applaud that. But on the other hand, 

they're so corporate you can't take them seriously. Dealing with the record 
business, people tend to get in their own little tiny worlds. Their really just 
acting like small corporations.
Brandon: You guys just came off of a major label (Virgin) and that was a huge 
ordeal. What was the situation?Brandon:
Neil: That was a huge learning experience. We got to test out all our theories. 
We went into it like "We're just gonna make a shitload of money." It was on the 
cusp of that whole post-Nirvana success, and so they were like hounds signing 
guitar bands left and right. At that time, we were just doing it as a duo, using 

a lot of electronics, huge amps. I was playing violin and guitar and Jennifer 
was just singing. Some record company paid us to go out there and do showcases, 
so we got this fake band together. Two drummers, bass, guitar, and all that. So, 

they signed us according to that, thinking that's what we were.
Brandon: When that just happened to be a phase you were in at the time?Brandon:
Neil: Yeah, but really, it wasn't anything, that's just what they wanted us to 
be, and we were just like "Whatever." The whole point is that we did our 
songs...At the time we had a five-piece band. Some guys from Florida. After we 
got signed we were able to promise people a lot of money to do records with us 
and not be just leaning on their friendship or goodwill. It was nice. Our plan 
was...this is what they want, so we kind of got the format together.
Brandon: So, what happened after Sweet Sixteen?Brandon:
Neil: They were trying to take Jennifer and I out...First of all get us away 
from these, you know, rockin' longhaired guys. They thought they were being very 

visionary...
Brandon: But they were just trying to tell you what to do.Brandon:
Neil: Yeah, and in our contract it clearly stated...first of all we asked for an 

insane amount of money, not the sort of amount you'd give to a proven commodity, 

but if you new what kind of records we'd made in the past you would think it was 

insane. But it was cool, because they went for it. We also got complete creative 

control. There's a series of steps that you have to take when you submit a 
record. They say "We don't like this" and we say "So what," and eventually it 
goes to a lawyer. But we forced them to put the record out.
Brandon: So, they didn't want to put it out?Brandon:
Neil: They wanted us to redo it. That was their plan. They were like "You and 
Jennifer are great, but everything else is wrong," and we were supposed to say, 
"Okay..." We were able to do the showcases in the "fake rock" format, but we 
were just ourselves. This was different. They wanted to bring some other people 
in.
Brandon: You mean like a new producer?Brandon:
Neil: Yeah, I mean, on Thank You (Royal Trux first album for Virgin) we thought 
it was cool to do the whole speil that they like to do. The way they do it is 
like, the producer's just an agent of the record company. But our guy, David 
Briggs, he was just this radical from back in the day and he'd had so much 
financial success with Neil Young that he could just tell the record label to go 

shove it. It was great, man. He really encouraged us. I was a little nervous, 
especially because my name was Neil, ya know.
Brandon: So, that was a good experience, doing Thank You?Brandon:
Neil: Yeah, everything for us was good. The bad part about the whole thing is 
that to people in the business, it looks really bad...like we were stupid or 
something. But we got all this money, and we bought a house and we bought all 
this equipment. So now we're just back to where we were, on Drag City, except 
that we don't have to do anything we don't want to do now.
Brandon: I just heard the new album, and I think it's incredible. It's really 
relaxed and spontaneous.Brandon:
Neil: Thanks, all the songs on the new record are just about the whole 
situation. Anything that happens to us is material. We toured for a long time, 
and the record company barely helped us at all. So we just said, "Fuck them, 
we're gonna do this ourselves." At the end of the tour, I just showed the guys 
the songs in the studio and it was like...boom boom boom. It just sort of came 
out.
Brandon: So the band on the new record was the band that toured behind Sweet 
Sixteen.Brandon:
Neil: Yeah. It wasn't the band that played on Sweet Sixteen.
Brandon: You guys are always playing with different people. How much input do 
your collaborators have on the music? Do you tell them what to play, or to they 
have more say?Brandon:
Neil: We try to balance it out. Sometimes, it's like "When you get here...do 
something like this, but basically, we pick people according to how they play. 
We pretty much know what's gonna happen when their style meets this material.
Brandon: So you pick up people touring the country, and just through 
friends?Brandon:
Neil: We try to keep lots of lines of communication open so we don't get too 
insestuous. The bass player on Thank You had played with Jeff Evans (Gibson 
Bros., '68 Comeback), and he was really a great bass player. Stuff like that 
happens.
Brandon: I don't know if you even want to talk about Pussy Galore, but there 
seems to be a resurgence in interest with the new live album on In The Red, and 
you know, Matador is reissuing some of the earlier stuff...Brandon:
Neil: Oh really...yeah, I think I got a check from that.
Brandon: Are you involved with all that in any way?Brandon:
Neil: The last couple of years, with the major thing, they really wanted to use 
that. They wanted to say who I was, and I made them absolutely take it out of 
all the press releases and stuff. But, it's just that I want to kind of have it 
separated so that somebody could find out about it if they really wanted. Think 
of it as two different things, but maybe someday realize, "Hey wait a minute. 
This is the same guy." I like to have things hidden. It's more fun to find out 
things that way.
Brandon: How does it feel to be back on Drag City now after all of that with 
Virgin? Are you happy to be where you are?Brandon:
Neil: It's just totally natural. We were friends with them. It was obvious that 
we'd go back with them. It's more real. They do a certain kind of work. They 
don't just waste money. It's pathetic how major labels just blow hundreds of 
thousands of dollars on stupid things. They're so leveraged that it's just 
chicken feed to them. If they have one album that sells a ton of records it just 

pays for everything. I have no idea. Dan Cretzky (of Drag City) knows what we're 

about. He's been there since the beginning. He helped us worked towards getting 
the major deal, and he was just laughing and enjoying it. It helped his back 
catalog sales, you know? Now, we're back with him, and he's excited. Having seen 

how Virgin screwed everything up. He thinks he could have sold more records than 

they did.
Brandon: Who are you playing with now?Brandon:
Neil: The drummer...used to be in this band, Golden.
Brandon: Oh yeah, I've seen them before. They opened for Trans Am. He was really 

good, if I'm remembering right.Brandon:
Neil: Yeah, he's going to Haiti soon, but he's gonna play some shows with us. 
Golden had to break up because everyone moved away.
Brandon: That's too bad.Brandon:
Neil: Yeah. We actually played a couple of shows last year where Golden were 
like our back-up band. It was cool, they came in and had learned our songs off 
the record. It was good because it was kind of wrong...wrong chords and such, 
but it sounded right. That was fun.
Brandon: Sounds awesome.Brandon:
Neil: Anyway, the drummer from them, that guitarist Dave Pajo....
Brandon: Dave Pajo's playing with you guys? He gets around doesn't he?Brandon:
Neil: He's everywhere. We played with him in New York at the CMJ Convention. 
They had Pajo and (Jim) O'rourk and Dave Grubbs and they were just like the 
house band. Everybody on Drag City did like three songs with them. That was 
funny as shit.
Brandon: Wish I could have been there.Brandon:
Neil: What happens is the album's always at the end of the tour. So we don't 
have to go out and play that same damn thing over exactly that way. We sort of 
do the opposite of that.
Brandon: So will you still be playing a lot of the stuff from the new 
album?Brandon:
Neil: Oh yeah, just with a different band.
Brandon: Then at the end of the tour, you come up with new material and record a 

new album?Brandon:
Neil: We have a process. We're not finding replacements for anybody.
Brandon: It's not Menudo.Brandon:
Neil: No, screw that. We make one record and break up...so...like when I was in 
high school there'd be bands and side projects and bands would break up and 
those guys would go on to another band and they'd have a new name. But it was 
just the same damn thing. It's the same sort of thing, but we just use the same 
name, like the brand name. It's like we're a label. Like it's the Royal Trux 
label and we're just different bands with no name that put out records on the 
Royal Trux label on Drag City or...(trails off) 


Royal Trux : Accelerating
by Don Harrison
Grip Monthly
1998

Jennifer Herrema and Neil Hagerty are just your average rural farm couple living 

in Rappahanock County, Va.-- shooting guns, tending the garden, etc. By 
night,though, they become Royal Trux, the most dangerous, sloppy, bluesy-woozy 
rock band in the world-- a band that has since returned back to its original 
indie label (Drag City) after a bitter (and oddly fortunate) stint at a major 
(Virgin), to release two back-to-back winners, Acclerator and the new 3-Song EP.
Don Harrison recently talked to Jennifer Herrama about farm life, the rock biz, 
golden parachutes and (whaaa...)her love of the Electric Light Orchestra
Don Harrison: Tell me about living in Culpeper? Why?
Jennifer Herrema: We're actually in Little Washington. Culpeper is just down the 

road from us.
DH: So do you go to the Inn at Little Washington a lot?
JH: (Chuckles) No. Not a lot.
DH: I know that area well, it seems like a pretty conservative place.
JH: Culpeper I didn't even discover until about two years after we moved here. I 

drove in the opposite direction one day and found it. We had spent some time out 

here (in Little Washington) around'89 or '90 we were here for a couple of months 

house sitting . . . and we just liked it.
DH: What is a typical day for Royal Trux out there?
JH: Ah, typical day. . . wake up, have some coffee,smoke some cigarettes, go 
outside and check on the garden, feed the cat. We have three cats.
DH: Are you on a pretty big spread? Do you have much contact with your 
neighbors?
JH: No people. we've got seven acres and the nearest house is not very near. 
We;'re in Rappahannock County so everybody's pretty spread out. We can shoot 
(guns) on our property so that's pretty good. . .
DH: I heard about your deal with Virgin. The money you got from being on their 
label pretty much paid for the place, and for a home studio, right? That's a 
pretty strange deal.
JH: I don't even question it. Y'know?
DH: All of the bands that got screwed out of thei rearnings and then you guys 
get this golden parachute of money before they drop you. That's so cool.
JH: Yeah, very cool. The key thing with (contracts) is you don't leave your self 

open. When we decided to sign with Virgin we demanded our own terms from the 
start. That's how bands get screwed they sign over everything before it happens. 

You gotta do it on your own terms or you are just destined for trouble.Music's 
such a subjective thing and we are always moving so. . . Virgin was the label 
that accepted the terms of the contract.
You've got to know what you want.It's important to have a good lawyer too, but 
you've gotta remember that what ever lawyer you have, he's going to be closer to 

(record executives) than he is to you. He's got to work with those people again, 

long after you are signed or whatever. He walks the tightrope.He wants his 
percentage but he also doesn't want to piss them off. We knew exactly what we 
wanted. He thought I was crazy but he said, 'All I can do is submit this 
proposal.' He didn't think they'd go for it at all.
DH: I remember when you got signed that people were wondering what Virgin was 
doing in the first place. Your indie stuff was pretty uncompromising.
JH: I never really asked them why they were doing what they were doing. It might 

have been a good question. In the end, I don't think we were going to change 
their minds and I really don't know where all the initial enthusiasm came from 
in my mind, they must've liked what we'd done before. But we also aren't going 
to make the same record over and over.
DH: When you passed in Thank You (the first record in their Virgin deal), was 
there trouble from the start?
JH: No, not with Thank You. There was no objection at all. But I think they were 

having some inter-office political problems. The guy that signed us was the 
President of A&R, a really great guy actually, and I had really good 
communication with his right hand woman, the vice president of A&R. Good 
rapport, 'Cause there were a lot of questions I had and I lot of information I 
wanted .
DH: I would've liked to have sat in on that boardmeeting "Okay, here's what we 
expect out of Royal Trux."
JH: Right, exactly. The problem is that they were soprecious about the subject 
that I don't they ever had that boardmeeting. They should have.
(Virgin) had a lot of really weird hangups, too. When we went on tour and wanted 

to buy some new equipment, bigger amps 'cause we'd pretty much only had shit to 
play with before they were worried that we would alienate our audience. You've 
got to be kidding! The word 'organic' kept coming up, an'organic transition 
period.' That's pretty much where it brokedown for us.
DH: Do you think they wanted their own "Sonic Youth" or something a band that 
had achieved some indie acclaim?
JH: Oh, oh yeah. There were a lot of labels that wanted to sign us, like Geffen 
and Warner Brothers, and we knew that because we were the coolest band around.
DH: Now you are back on Drag City, where you started, and Accelerator sounds 
like the most commercial thing you've made yet. Maybe not commercial, but 
certainly lively. It's a rock and roll record.
JH: We come up with a plan for each record.
DH: What's the purpose of the 3-song EP? Was it just something that came out 
after Accelerator or was it something that wouldn't fit on the album?
JH: We started working after Accelerator, working on newsongs for the next 
record. But we came up the lyrics for "Deffer Than Blind" the day before (the 
band, which include ex-Tortoise member Dave Pejo) And we decided to record it. 
Those guys came and we spent a day working on the music and finally came up with 

the second song and then the third. We just wrote and recorded it in a day.
DH: How does it feel being back at Drag City?
JH: Being the first artists on Drag City, and being so tight with them, it's 
really whatever we want to do. Neil wants to do abook, they'll put it out, we 
wanna make movies, they'll put it out. ..
DH: How do you maintain a personal as well as business relationship with someone 

like that for so long? Isn't it difficult?
JH: We are really pretty different. I can't expressit in concrete terms. If I 
ever figure it out, I might do something (laughs). I mean, we fight a lot, like 
any couple I guess. I'll put on a record and he'll say, 'I hate this fucking 
record. What is this? The Move?' and we'll have a fight about it. No big deal.
DH: What do you listen to around the house?
JH: Oh, everything. The new stuff is mostly what people send us. I mean, like, 
one day we'll play the blues and then the nextday I'll put on E.L.O. for a 
half-hour and he'll hate it and then a month later he'll want to listen to it. A 

pain in the ass.



Royal Trux : Deep in the Woods
by Jay Ruttenberg
Puncture Magazine
1998

-Man, I always knew this Royal Trux fixation would get you killed some day.
-Just be careful.
-If they get out shovels and start digging a ditch... run!
And so the warnings go from friends hearing of my impending pilgrimage to the 
sticks of Virginia to visit the home of Royal Trux front couple Jennifer 
Herrema and Neil Hagerty. Of course, their worries are ludicrous, arising 
largely from the short-sighted press that has dogged the band: "One British 
guy came here to write an article; saw us sitting around the house kissing the 
cats, and was still freaked out," Herrema will later tell me while sitting 
around the house kissing the cats and freaking me out hardly at all.
But 15 hours before the interview I cannot help feeling a pang of 
apprehension. I'm spending the night in, of all places, Washington DC's 
Watergate complex, where a friend landed a condo sublet (only to be forced 
into a second job when security fees skyrocketed during the Monica Lewinsky 
ordeal). My friend asks what the big scaredy-cat fuss is about these Royal 
Trux people. I tell her how I'd briefly interviewed them years before in a 
Boston club, how Herrema sat buried in a fur coat and cloud of nicotine, only 
opening her mouth to quarrel with the goonish Hagerty, who loomed over the 
table with a cigarette and scowl glued to his lips. Every recent article about 
the pair, I explain, has mentioned the shotguns they keep inside the very pad 
I'm about to visit. I show her an old photograph of the Gruesome Twosome, 
presumably taken during their junkie days. Hagerty's perpetually glum mug is 
turned from the camera, his heavy-metal mane draped over the giant "55" 
printed on his shirt; Herrema sports patched jeans, two enormous skull rings, 
and a Minnesota Twins t-shirt; her nose and mouth barely protrude from a 
beautiful mound of blond Bam Bam-style hair that obscures her forehead, eyes, 
and cheeks, but not her "fuck-you-too" attitude. It's part exotic, part 
trailer trash: either way the grime practically seeps out of the newsprint. My 
friend's still not convinced, so I opt to let the music speak for itself.
The Watergate has seen its fair share of sordid activity over the years (Bob 
Dole sleeps there every night, for chrissake!), yet I still feel perverse 
putting Royal Trux on the posh apartment's built-in player. And not just any 
Royal Trux record, but Twin Infinitives, the duo's 1990 Beefheartian epic, the 
one everybody talks about and nobody listens to, the 70-minute, four-cut CD 
that was fueled by both a unique comprehension of rock and roll's inner 
workings and, well, narcotics.
I press Play, and the room is enveloped in a blur of chaotic noise, as if the 
Trux had somehow gathered the dirt from under Keith Richards' fingernails and 
molded it into a postmodern mud pie. Guitars belch, Herrema grunts her guts 
right out of her stomach and onto the acetate, Hagerty moans diabolically... 
even the synthesizer sounds viscous and scrambled. It's as if G. Gordon Liddy 
and James McCord had broken into the apartment and futzed with all the classic 
rock tapes, inadvertently reassembling them into this brilliant, befuddled 
muck.
"Hmmm," my friend says as I turn down the stereo. "I'd watch myself if I were 
you."
Hagerty and Herrema live nearly two hours out of Washington-far enough so they 
only venture into the city "about once a year," associating strictly with one 
another and with Herrema's folks, who live an hour away. The area they've 
settled in is rural and picturesque-like a jigsaw puzzle sprung to life. The 
hills roll, the horses rollick, and Confederate flags flap gently in the 
breeze. It's the kind of place where the rich people name their houses and the 
poor people name their guns, and when I pass locals on the bending roads they 
wave and nod, regardless of their thoughts on my big Jewish nose.
I take a left at the Mount Lebanon Baptist Church, onto a narrow, winding road 
dotted with spacious houses. Herrema had warned me the addresses on their 
street were laid out nonsequentially -which doesn't sound legal, however 
appropriate it might be for Royal Trux-but I have no problem spotting their 
house. It's the one flying a pirate flag from the top of the staff. ("The 
asshole across the way has a Dixie flag, so we put up the Jolly Roger," 
Hagerty says later. "Our sympathies are clear.")
Theirs is also the only home without a manicured front lawn; the unruly heap 
of grass out front consumes everything in its path but the tip of the dirt 
drive and a tank of propane. I squeeze my car between their mid-'80s Jaguar 
(the kind with the bumpy rear lights) and "woody" Jeep Wagoneer, leaving 
myself a 30-yard walk uphill to their gray country castle.
I search for a doorbell but find only stickers advertising Amnesty 
International and the NRA. Then the door swings open, Hagerty mumbles hello, 
and I follow him up a small flight of stairs and into the kitchen, where a pot 
of cheap coffee burps and wheezes its way to the finish line. Herrema-his 
partner of 13 years-is still at Wal-Mart, and Hagerty is clearly anxious for 
his prettier half's return. He's also sleepy, this being 2:30 in the 
afternoon, a whole hour and a half before his usual wake-up time; Herrema has 
been "adjusting his schedule" over the last few days, he explains, in 
preparation for their upcoming European tour.
He is wearing baggy Lee jeans, sneakers, a tee-shirt, and a large ring that 
covers his thumb. I'm not quite sure what his teeth look like because he 
never, ever laughs or smiles, even when he tells a joke ("How did Jeff Buckley 
die? Drowning in his own tears") or recites a routine from Kids in the Hall or 
Larry Sanders. I'm not sure what his eyes look like, either: he avoids eye 
contact at all cost. He also never stands still, pacing about his kitchen 
while gulping down coffee, fretting that the neighbors must hate him for his 
unrefined front lawn ("If they ask us to cut it we will, but we like it better 
this way").
He shows me the place. The couple financed it, he says, with the money they 
received from their deal with Virgin Records. Parts of their house were built 
in the 19th century: the sun room, where well-thumbed books lie amid stacks of 
CDs; or the living room behind the kitchen, with an ancient, beast-like heater 
tucked into one of the house's five fireplaces, pictures of parents and cats, 
a machine Hagerty uses to monitor local police activity, and comfortable 
leather furniture. Other sections were added later: a room with a wraparound 
sofa and a television that never seems to get turned off; or the carpeted 
space in the right-hand wing that looks like the kind of room every 
high-school band practices in, except for the fancy recording equipment. 
("Bought with the Virgin money," Hagerty says. "Sixty thousand dollars. But we 
have guns, so don't try anything.")
The second floor is less music-focused, but has an ambience of Royal Trux, or 
at least of artists at play. A sort of solarium houses a work space for 
Herrema's painting, which-to judge from RTX cover art -alternates between the 
cartoonish and ghoulish. Another, larger room contains a Macintosh; here 
Hagerty wrote Victory Chimp (his baffling Drag City-published novel), and here 
he compiles his database of "anomalous events" dug up from the Wall Street 
Journal and other "dangerously conservative" publications. Perhaps the 
greatest work of art, however, is the bathroom door, burdened with a rack full 
of Herrema's footwear. There are running shoes, cowboy boots, big shoes, small 
shoes, fluffy shoes, fuzzy shoes, furry boots, silver-tipped boots... and inside 

the bathroom is a walk-in closet containing the wardrobes (including a puffy 
Brian Jones-style (fake?) fur coat) that go with 'em.
There is a small sign under the light switch that reads: TURN OFF THE BATHROOM 
LIGHTS. Since visitors are a rarity in the Hagerty-Herrema household (apart 
from "the lady who takes care of the cats while we're on tour," the couple do 
not mingle locally, and even the Royal Trux sidemen sleep elsewhere when 
there's recording going on), I wonder who wrote the note-and who needed it. 
From articles I'd read about the band I'd picked up a strong sense that 
Jennifer plays Dr. Landy to Neil's Brian Wilson. That is, she deals with the 
label, the press, the concert booker, the stockbroker, and the Wal-Mart 
shopping, while the reclusive Hagerty hones his guitar chops and compiles his 
Menckenesque database. So this seemingly outlandish knockout trades her shades 
for spectacles and deals with the real world, while boy genius flakes out.
Then again, maybe the note was posted for the cat-sitter.
Half an hour after my arrival, the black Royal Trux van pulls into the 
driveway and Herrema hoists the grocery bags into the kitchen. She removes her 
large faux-Rayban aviator glasses, revealing two thick circles of eyeliner and 
a doll-like face. There are slabs of metal tied around her wrists with 
dangling leather straps and another chunk of cattle that tightly chokes her 
neck, giving the impression her head would slide right off her body if the 
necklace were removed.
Herrema's press kit claims she's 25. She looks all of 17, rasps like a 
64-year-old Camel addict, and says she's 29, which I believe. The singer has 
squeezed a lot of life into her however-many years. She grew up moneyed in DC: 
her father was the assistant to a Connecticut senator and later used his 
connections to make a killing in real estate, only to lose the farm as the 
Reagan age slumped to a close. Jennifer met Neil when she was a high-school 
senior and he was lending his guitar prowess to Jon Spencer's fledgling Pussy 
Galore. She began making Royal Trux recordings with Hagerty, moved to New York 
City, dropped out of college, became a heroin addict, moved to San Francisco, 
became a legend of "outsider" music, stripped for money, OD'd, detoxed, OD'd, 
detoxed, roamed the States, guided Palace's career (see sidebar), settled in 
Virginia, stayed clean, scored a bundle of cash from a big recording label, 
and modeled for Calvin Klein's CK One campaign ("I'm on TV all the time")-all 
the while sticking with Hagerty through thick and thin.
At the moment she's just happy to see her trio of cats, who climb in and out 
of the brown Wal-Mart bags searching for catnip as Hagerty helps her unload 
the kitty litter, prescription drugs, frozen entrees, and blank cassette 
tapes.
"Why'd you get 90-minute tapes?" Hagerty groans.
"That's all they had."
"But the 60-minute ones are better."
"That's what they had,'' Herrema repeats. "Neil, I've had a bad day. I was 
loading the groceries into the van, and when I turned around there was a guy 
in a pick-up truck looking at me. He was jacking off."
"Fuck! Did you see his plates?"
"No. He followed me but I blew a light and lost him."
"Jesus, Jennifer, why didn't you get his plate number? How many lights did he 
follow you for? ... Three? He got your plates. He's probably a fuckin' serial 
killer."
Hagerty walks to the front window and stares out, past the white propane tank, 
past the swampy lump of grass, past the van, the Jag, the Woody, and my own 
car. There's no killer visible, but Hagerty's not satisfied. "I should get the 
gun. Did you call the police? We should call the police."
"Neil, I lost him."
"You had a fuckin' killer and you let him slip out of your net. What if he 
goes and molests a kid?"
"I was not going to stop and take down his license-plate number."
"I'm just saying he was behind you. You could've just looked back," Hagerty 
moans, stalking the room as if John Wayne Gacy is about to crawl from under 
the sofa cushions.
"You're paranoid," says Herrema.
For the next few hours Hagerty will sporadically pop up from his seat and peek 
out the window, continually returning to the subject to retread his original 
argument. He's a classic neurotic, belying his tough-guy exterior-as if Woody 
Allen were stuck inside Dee Dee Ramone's body.
Hagerty more or less agrees: "Woody Allen once said he used to watch a Knicks 
player go up for a dunk and all he could think about was, 'Here's this 
beautiful athlete, and some day he's gonna be dead.' I think that about a lot 
of stuff. Just neurosis. It's funny, cause rock and roll is supposed to be 
'cool' and totally anti-everything. But that's just not the case."
"He's totally paranoid," snorts Herrema, shaking her head with some disgust. 
"He won't fly, you know. We can't play Japan, 'cause he stopped flying in 
'95."
"No, I don't fly," Hagerty mutters. "Everybody flies, and it's so common.... So 
I'm protesting it, this jet age, where you're treated like fucking cattle."
"I guess this airplane thing is a point of some contention between the two of 
you," I offer, in a flash
of obnoxious voyeurism.
As Herrema starts to explain, they begin shouting over one another the way 
only well-worn couples can, their words of venom intertwining along 
labyrinthine paths. It's like dialogue scripted for George Costanza's parents:
-Well, you see...
-Well, excuse me...
-She's in love with this idea...
-No, excuse me, I had to go...
-She likes to go and...
-I had to go a month and a half ago, I HAD TO FLY...
-You're using the wrong...
-TO 11 COUNTRIES.
-You didn't have to do anything. You fuckin' wanted to...
-Okay, okay...
-AND YOU KNOW IT!
-Okay, so we have this record company in Europe. They spend a lot on us and 
the guy works really hard and everything...
-Yes, let's crunch the numbers...
-Shut up! Shut up, you! Look, I had to fly to 11 countries in 13 days, just to 
do press. And the guy's like, 'we're working this really hard, could you just 
do this?' And I agreed, because I feel very differently from Neil about 
certain things. And you know, every morning I was on an airplane going from 
Germany to Italy, Ireland, Belgium, Holland-
-What about Bermuda? You left out Bermuda...
-It was a lot of work. But there are certain things Neil does-
-What about the Bermuda trip?
-He empties the cat litter!
"All right," I finally interject. "Why don't we go on to another question?"
Perhaps the most endearing thing Thurston Moore has uttered is, "never trust a 
band that's good every night." Okay, so he most likely wasn't the first to 
wave the flag of fickleness-and I suspect he only did so to apologize for a 
crummy Sonic Youth show-but the quote establishes a crucial line separating 
the Bob Dylans from the Tom Pettys, the Alex Chiltons from the Rick Nielsens, 
and Royal Trux from just about everybody else.
Hagerty and Herrema have been releasing RTX records for a decade. They have 
eight LPs under their studded cowboy belts, plus enough singles to form a 
double-CD set (last year's Singles, Live and Unreleased). Each record has 
featured new collaborators, a fresh recording method, different rules for song 
structure, and new ways of examining their music altogether. 
If something's wrong they fix it; if something's right they fix it.
Seeing Royal Trux play live is an even bigger gamble. At times they are an 
absolutely unbeatable rock-and-roll machine; other times it's like watching 
your grandfather parallel park. Hagerty has been known to forsake his guitar 
in favor of a synthesizer, or to sit on a stool and let the audience examine 
his back for 50 minutes, or play astonishing Hendrix-blessed guitar lines only 
to bury them behind a heavy-handed keyboard player the Trux picked up from a 
classic-rock cover band. Herrema can sing as if possessed, swaggering faceless 
behind her stringy mane and good-guy cowboy hat; or she can grunt her lyrics 
in a grotesque monotone, seemingly wrapped up in an entirely different number 
than the band. Or she can ditch her post mid-show for a bathroom break.
The backup band is likewise kept in a state of perpetual flux. A bassist was 
recently dismissed after a pair of albums as "too skilled"; the couple 
replaced him with the aforementioned keyboardist, who left after Accelerator, 
when Jennifer and Neil remodeled the group as a Jefferson Airplane homage with 
Herrema taking female lead and Hagerty and a former drummer on male backup.
"Rock and roll used to be thought of as a unique combination of individuals 
coming together to create a sound," Hagerty explains when asked about their 
rotating lineup. "That idea is total bullshit, just another myth. We fashion 
ourselves after jazz sessions from the '20s, which were made up of whoever was 
around, or in the tradition of the Brill Building, Phil Spector, or Stax-Volt, 
where there were anonymous session musicians. This way there's a different 
chemistry for each session."
This propensity for constant change makes the Royal Trux aficionado work 
nearly as hard as a James Joyce buff. Listeners sweated in 1990, when Hagerty 
and Herrema followed up their self-titled debut with Twin Infinitives, which 
challenges the nerves by nature of its layout alone (15 songs spread over four 
CD cuts and large gaps of silence), not to mention the sonic wasps' nest 
tucked inside. Further challenges came two years later, when RTX reinvented 
themselves on a second self-titled work (informally dubbed "Bones" after its 
graveyard cover art), which introduced chord structure but clung to chaos (in 
part due to its low budget. The duo then received a recording allowance from 
Matador but "blew most of it on drugs" and never worked with the label again.)
Trux fans had to reconsider their value systems once more when the two 
jettisoned opiates and low fidelity for the biker blues of Cats and Dogs, 
which juxtaposed dragging guitar sludge with the tight maverick bop of numbers 
like "The Spectre" and "The Flag." Hagerty attributes the style of Cats and 
Dogs (considered by many the duo's brightest hour) to its 1993 production 
date: "It's just a mock grunge record. That's what the Rolling Stones used to 
do. If the Beatles did something, then they did the exact same thing, or they 
did disco in the '70s, or 'Angie' when Fleetwood Mac and Elton John were big. 
It's a tradition: you don't hold onto some kind of aesthetic thing-you just 
take in all this shit, put it through the wringer, and make it rock and roll."
Perhaps the biggest strain came in 1995 when Hagerty and Herrema rode the 
zeitgeist once again, leaving Drag City to sign with Virgin Records. Royal 
Trux had been Drag City's flagship act since their self-released debut caught 
the ear of Chicagoan Dan Koretzky, who ran out and formed the label to put out 
the Trux' spooky "Hero Zero" single (an early Pavement 7" soon followed). 
Thank You, the band's major-label debut, seemed to renege on their contract 
with the horn-rimmed underground. It was slick, benefiting from Neil Young vet 
David Briggs' production. And it was cold: "We started rehearsing [the Thank 
You material] six months before we recorded, so we were able to be very 
detached from it," Hagerty told me back in 1995. "It was like we were covering 
somebody else's songs."
The record got buried under a heap of critical praise-judging by its 
ubiquitousness in the cutout bins, you'd think Virgin gave away more than it 
sold. Fans missed the old disorder, new listeners got little introduction. 
Coming upon Royal Trux at that point was like walking into a movie in the 
middle.
At the time, it seemed the Trux might have reached the logical end of the 
line-as if they'd bulldozed rock's walls with Twin Infinitives then spent a 
career rebuilding them, only to discover they'd been constructing their own 
mausoleum. Sweet Sixteen, last year's follow-up to Thank You, only reinforced 
such thinking. Recorded at Hagerty's and Herrema's pad sans Briggs (who had 
died), the album concerned itself more with techie experimentation than songs 
(rarely the type of record that pushes major-label units or grabs indie ears). 
What's more, as the middle entry in RTX's "counter-revisionist '60s, '70s, and 
'80s album cycle" that was mapped out for the three-album Virgin contract, 
Sweet Sixteen carried an odious 1976 tinge. No song was allowed to end before 
it hit the four-minute mark, and the half-baked boogie tunes all seemed to 
atrophy toward solo-wank platforms. Even the cover art-depicting a soiled, 
clogged toilet bowl-extended a taunt to all involved.
No one was surprised when the Trux were cut loose by Virgin. What is somewhat 
astonishing is that Accelerator-which marks both their return to Drag City and 
the '80s finale to the "decades" trilogy -ranks among their finest and most 
accessible albums to date. Like Sweet Sixteen, the new record was recorded at 
the Hagerty-Herrema abode and focuses on experimental guitar frequencies and 
other technical shenanigans. Unlike its predecessor, Accelerator is a tight, 
diverse affair, with the snappy harmonica-'n'-harmony "Yellow Kid" dropped in 
the middle of metallic jumbles ("I'm Ready" and "The Banana Question"), a 
frightening dub-like number ("New Bones"), plus a breathtaking classic rock 
send-off ("Stevie," reportedly about Seagal). Even the opening line ("Now you 
know I'm ready!!!") contrasts sharply with Sweet Sixteen's gambit: "Don't Try 
Too Hard."
Hagerty and Herrema scoff at such criticism. "'I'm Ready' and 'Don't Try Too 
Hard' are basically saying the same thing," explains Hagerty. "Everything we 
sing has a mock relationship to our situation. All of our stuff can be 
considered to be about us.... Look at the two songs on the two records. Sweet 
Sixteen is so dense, it's totally misunderstood. 'Now you know I'm ready' is 
like saying 'we've stripped everything down, we are finally ready to connect 
with the audience,' which is just totally stupid."
Herrema chips in: "There's no less information on Accelerator than there is on 
Sweet Sixteen. It's just that Sweet Sixteen appears to be more obtuse... [with 
more] weight due to the bandwidth. It's the way we tracked, mixed, 
premastered, and mastered. If you put Sweet Sixteen through a spectrum 
analyzer, you see that you have extreme highs and lows, and all the other 
information is in that wide space between. Accelerator was compressed at every 
level, so your bandwidth is condensed, and it allows the same amount of 
information to pass through your ear unobtrusively. The blueprint is a lot 
more subliminal, so it gives the illusion that it's more simple. That was the 
idea behind doing Accelerator after we did Sweet Sixteen."
"Do you think your audience missed the boat?" I ask.
"People's perception of all of our records is full of shit," replies Hagerty. 
"A lot of bands think they're communicating something, that they're reaching 
out to stimulate people in a certain way, which usually leads to buying the 
record. That's the end result, the goal-it's sort of like a vote for 
something.
"Now we're ready to pretend we're doing this 'accessible' record. The point of 
the line 'I'm ready' is all about holding paradoxes up as true, instead of 
resolving things. That's the thrust of what we're trying to do: holding a 
paradox in your head, in your life as a true thing. And it all fits together 
like a Lego world. It's not one record. It's eight records. It's more 
records."
This philosophy nullifies the frequently made claim that Royal Trux abandoned 
the edge when they scribbled on the dotted line and cleansed their forearms. 
Screw Twin Infinitives-signing to Virgin was the most self-directed move they 
ever made. In one fell swoop they turned their backs on their fans, 
accumulated the dough they'd need to live autonomously, made the records they 
wanted to make although few wanted to hear, and crawled out of the major-label 
train wreck unscathed.
I don't want to talk too much about the label stuff, but...
NH: No, it's not that interesting. 
We just want to stress the fact that we got a fuckin' huge amount of money. On 
paper it was over a million dollars.
JH: And we got another $500,000 in publishing.
NH: In talking about the major label, we're trying to point out that it's a 
thing bands can do to get money, but it has to be done just right. We had 
creative control. We could do anything we wanted as long as it was Royal Trux. 
The question to be resolved in the courts is: What is Royal Trux? And I'd like 
to say it means that we scored some money from a company instead of getting 
screwed by them.
This is probably the first time I heard about an indie band who went to a big 
label and left-and I ended up feeling bad for the major label. It seems like 
you guys rode into town and fucked them over.
NH: Well, yeah. That was our intention from the beginning. We were gonna make 
records our way and we asked for a large amount of money up front and said 
take it or leave it. We always knew what we were doing. The same way of 
thinking that made Twin Infinitives got all this money from a fuckin' major 
label. But we had to sell away our "credibility."
Do you really think you did that?
JH: Well, we let them believe it was tit for tat.
NH: I think that in a lot of ways-for people who give a shit about that kind 
of thing-the credibility's gone. Obviously, that doesn't matter. We took the 
credibility and the good will that we established with some people and sold it 
to the Virgin label for money. Basically, we collected on something we didn't 
care about in the first place, but we knew it was something they would pay 
money for.
You mean phony indie cred?
NH: Right. It's all phony. See, a lot of bands are already kind of popular 
when they get signed. That's a bad thing, 'cause then you're in a situation 
where you feel like with just one extra push you can make it that much 
further. We didn't want to be popular; we just wanted the fuckin' money.
JH: A lot of these bands do become popular, but in the process of getting to 
that point they spend all the money. So by the time they are popular, the only 
money they have got coming to them is actual sales royalties. So once they get 
there, they better be selling records. If they're not, then the millions of 
dollars that have been given to them have been spent trying to achieve this 
ridiculous dream. Our goal was just to get the money. Make our records, get 
the money.
NH: Yeah. We've always gone the opposite direction and made stuff that's 
difficult. You've gotta really like music to listen to our records.
Sure, you've gotta really like music to listen to Royal Trux records-because 
Herrema and Hagerty don't approach anything in a half-assed manner. They may 
be consummately art-for-art's-sake and politically left of center, but they're 
both greedy and savvy-and honest about it, to boot. Perhaps it's an extension 
of their general outlook that their music and apparel seem so deeply imbedded 
in 1970s America. The couple flirted with excess and returned as hardened and 
self-sufficient as Hunter S. Thompson or Rolling Thunder Revue-era Dylan. They 
are classic American nonconformists, determined to make their own mistakes, 
educate themselves, shed light on cultural inconsistencies and paradoxes, and 
never lose their skeptical edge.
"We don't work inside the American system," says Herrema. "That was the big 
idea when we got the Virgin money, that we weren't going to have a mortgage, 
and nothing on credit. We're not going to be on these payment plans where you 
get on and don't get off till you're dead. Nobody has any claim on us. We 
don't have to answer to anybody."
"We can be dissed by group A and not have to go and seek shelter from group 
B," says Hagerty. "We can take hits from every direction and never have it be 
the end of the line-it just gives us more energy."
Indeed, the pair exert more energy shaking off unwanted listeners than a 
mid-'90s grunge star. Royal Trux have built half their career on a heap of 
audience desertions, forsaking Hagerty's Pussy Galore admirers from the day 
they switched on the four-track. Herrema explains: "At Pussy Galore shows, 
everybody looked the same, acted the same, wanted the same thing, and they all 
knew what they were gonna get. I was in the audience then, so I could see what 
the interaction was. And there were certain people who went because of Neil's 
guitar playing.
"When Neil quit Pussy Galore, a lot of people had specific expectations of 
what Royal Trux would be. We wanted nothing to do with those people. Twin 
Infinitives was a very good way of getting them off our backs. Just saying 
'Look, man, we don't even want to see you at our fuckin' shows.' So we had no 
constraints placed upon us; none of that mattered."
Of course, the 1990 double LP that sounds so groovy when played at the 
Watergate Complex was more than just a smack-fueled ass-in-the-air. "At the 
time Twin Infinitives came out, everybody said: 'these are incompetent, 
retarded drug addicts,'" Herrema continues. "After a time people actually 
listened to it more than once and had a very good reaction to it-once they 
heard it physically and emotionally. Then there was a different type of 
writing about it. And then at some point we interjected: Yes, we were drug 
addicts when we recorded it; no, we're not retarded, and neither us has ever 
spent more than five days in a psych ward. When we did Twin Infinitives we 
were pretty strung out; but the truth is, we worked diligently for a long 
time."
"It was nine months of actual time with long gaps in between where we couldn't 
do anything 'cause we were so fucked up, and also sometimes we were plotting 
things, or listening to tapes over and over," says Hagerty. "It has this 
feeling of something spun out by the insane.
"See, usually bands make their 'wild' record fifth or sixth-the classic 
example is the Beatles' white album. We wanted to get that out of the way. 
Instead of putting out five records and then a 'masterpiece,' we wanted to do 
that one second, then make our own fuckin' rock-and-roll records."
I ask Hagerty if he considers Twin Infinitives a "rock" album.
"We tried to do something that would push everything out that was materially 
representative of rock and roll-yet still be a rock-and-roll record. Rock is 
absorbed by hiphop music and vice versa-as well as the old '70s soul stuff, or 
minimalist music, or experimental music, or metal machine music. It's about 
that absorption: that's what Twin Infinitives is. All this crap and fuzz and 
craziness, and it's still rock."
But what makes it rock and roll?
"It's about surviving, rebelling against authority, not copping out, not 
giving in to the corporate thing or becoming part of the logic and losing your 
individualism. It all adds up to being able to survive being a junkie. Most 
people fail. When people OD we laugh. It's kind of sad and cruel but we know 
what it's like. You have to be very careful. You always have to test shit. 
People get into this junkie thing and they're just stupid. They don't 
understand it's a fuckin' pharmaceutical, and that you need to read certain 
books, you need to get the pill book, you need to know your shit."
"You guys seem pretty set on making your own mistakes," I offer.
"Yeah," says Herrema. "People will tell you that you shouldn't do heroin..."
"And they would be right," Hagerty interrupts. "But at the same time, hey-it 
happened."
"Everybody will tell us one thing, but we know we've gotta push through," 
Herrema continues. "At the time we were making Thank You we became very tight 
with the producer, David Briggs. A lot of people were saying, 'You shouldn't 
be using a producer. You don't want to sign to a major.' And we were like, 'Oh 
yes we do!' We always came out on top, because at a certain point we realized 
our situation, and the kind of control we could take. You can either let 
something control you or you can rein it in and fucking control it."
Hagerty takes a drag from his umpteenth cigarette and slowly nods. "That's the 
experiment," he says. "That's what's experimental."
Which is why Royal Trux' current incarnation as a boogie band striving to 
appeal to townies rather than college kids (Drag City is even running ads for 
Accelerator on late-night cable) is as iconoclastic as the double record 
scrambled for my ears by Nixon's cronies at Watergate.
I've been at Casa de Trux for five and a half hours when the sun begins to 
wane and the couple enters the initial stages of 
kicking-out-the-guest-who-won't-leave. They split a frozen pizza, mention an 
impending basketball game, and say something about the neighborhood Ku Klux 
Klan chapter's penchant for gathering after dark. I get the point. But I have 
to ask them about my favorite Royal Trux song, 1994's "Shockwave Rider." 
Abandoned on the flip side of a forgettable gutter ballad, the number rang the 
curtain down on the band's first Drag City run; at the time of its release it 
also appeared to be setting the stage for a prosperous major-label fling.
The song is based around three samples-a Grand Funk guitar, a Bill Withers 
break-beat, and some backwards Four Seasons voices-glued together by erstwhile 
Trux-sideman Mike Fellows. Atop this cool-as-Coolatta backdrop, Hagerty and 
Herrema deliver one of their finest vocal duets, Neil's muffled white-boy rap 
covering the verses and Jennifer taking the chorus with picture-perfect 
stone-cold grunts.
It's incredibly accessible: if Beck had recorded the number two years later 
and supported it with a Spike Jonze-directed video starring a white 
convertible and some Nevada desert, it would have gone triple-platinum. I 
mention this to the twosome and they snicker at me.
"That shit's fuckin' weak, man," says Hagerty. "Using samples is lame. It's 
imperialism. We just did 'Shockwave Rider' to show that 'Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, we 
know the whole routine, this is how it's done.' Just to check in and punch the 
ticket-'look, we know how to do this and we can do it really well-but we're 
making these other kind of records.'
"Part of what we do is illustrate restraint," continues the proudly ascetic 
man who refuses to fly. "It's like: we can clone human beings now, but we 
don't. Until now, has man ever discovered something and said, 'Wait a minute, 
we don't want to go down that road'?"
"I know what you want from me and I know what you might like from me, but I'm 
not going to give it to you!" Herrema picks up the thread, bouncing off the 
sofa while Hagerty questions her caffeine intake. "That would be evil of me, 
just to give you what you want! I'll give you what I've got to give, and you 
take it on my terms, or you don't get anything. I'm not there to serve the 
audience and they're not there to serve me. This is a reciprocal 
relationship." *
palace coup
In addition to doing Royal Trux, Hagerty and Herrema have a flourishing 
sideline in record production, underthe moniker Adam and Eve. In the last 
year, for example, they've produced an EP by Drag City stablemate Edith Frost 
as well as the most recent Make-Up album, In Mass Mind. Their next scheduled 
project is a Brother J.T. album.
They also produced some Palace songs, though in Will Oldham's case their 
involvement amounted to some major career guidance at an early stage. Just 
like the Trux, Oldham keeps his backing band in a state of constant change, 
and they had a lot to do with that, they claim.
"We borrowed that idea of a rotating band in the first place, we don't claim 
otherwise," Herrema says. "But we sug-gested it to Oldham when we produced 
[early Palace single] 'Trudy Dies.'
"He had done a record [There Is No-One What Will Take Care of You] and 
submitted it to Drag City for them to think about releasing. [Drag City owner 
Dan] Koretzky hated it; but we said to him, 'You really should put this out.'
"Then Dan wanted us to produce Will, so Will came to Chicago and we had a long 
talk about it. I had this vision of him as a Springsteenesque character-just a 
straight-up songwriter with a revolving background.
"So we got this guy Liam [Hayes, aka Plush], before he was putting out records 
of his own. We knew Liam through Koretzky-we used to rehearse at his mother's 
place in Chicago. Liam was playing all sorts of different keyboards. We 
introduced him to Will, and we said, 'We want this guy to play keyboards on 
your record, and we want this other guy to play a bit of drums, and Neil on 
guitar.' So we put together that band, and suggested Palace should keep on 
moving like that."



Royal Trux : Their Home Studio,
Recording Classes, and Production Work
by Larry Crane and Scott Simmons
Tape Op No. 11
Winter 1998/1999


Jennifer Herrema and Neil Hagerty have led the Royal Trux for a number of years. 

They pulled a coup of sorts when Virgin Records dumped a lot of money on them, 
put out two albums, and then dropped the Trux. Jennifer and Neil kept the house 
and full-on home studio that they bought with said money and now they're back to 

putting out fine records on Drag City, like they had before. Only now, they can 
do all the recording and mixing at their home studio! We caught up with Jennifer 

at EJ's in Portland before they tore the house down in a rockin' frenzy. 
Tape Op: TO
Jennifer Herrema: JH 
TO: I was listening to "Twin Infinitives" today and I was wondering how it was 
recorded. There's all these layers of stuff going on. 
JH: Yeah there was. It was done 8 tracks at a time and then dumped down. 
TO: Was this done on *-track or was it 16? 
JH: No, this was done at Greg Freeman's in San Francisco. 
TO: Yeah, I know. I've worked with him. 
JH: He had a 2'16 and he also had an 8 track there. 
TO: Did you do the second and third recordings with Greg? 
JH: No, we just did "Twin Infinitives". 
TO: On "Cats and Dogs" did you play everything on that or did you have a live 
band? 
JH: We had a band. We actually did that in a 24 track studio with an API board 
that had belonged to Brian Wilson at one time. Omega Studios is the name of the 
place. It was really overpriced and all but we got a good deal with this guy and 

we tracked in two days and mixed in two. It was with a drummer, a second guitar 
player, Neil and myself. as far as the basic tracks, it was all done 
simultaneously - live. 
TO: It sounds that way. That's pretty damn fast to record a record! 
JH: I guess it was. It just seemed luxurious because I guess it was our first 
time ever in a very expensive studio. 
TO: Was that the first time with a band? 
JH: Yeah. 
TO: Did you rehearse a lot? 
JH: Yeah, yeah. Neil and I wrote all the songs and then we picked the musicians 
that we wanted to work with. It was three weeks straight of playing the set and 
trying out the arrangements. 
TO: Were the vocals live or did you over dub them? 
JH: The vocals? The vocals were live. I did my vocals, and I have a completely 
different phasing than Neil does, so I did mine and he did his but without 
having each other in the headphones. Hearing that kind of thing... 
TO: It throws you off. so at this point you guys have a studio at your house. 
JH: Yeah. 
TO: You have 4 ADATs? 
JH: We have three ADATs but we just bought ProTools so its all synced up. Kind 
of unlimited tracks. 
TO: Cool. Go crazy with that stuff. 
JH: We haven't replaced the BRC yet. It's so much easier than a mouse. We've got 

a clean board; a Mackie 24 by 8 but we have 16 channels of Drawmer 1960 mic 
pres. Everything goes through the Drawmers. 
TO: Where did you score those? 
JH: Through this place in Indiana called Sweetwater. 
TO: Yeah, I've gotten stuff through there. 
JH: We had a sales rep and we were buying so much stuff through them that we 
were getting cut some really good deals. 
TO: So you went to recording school? 
JH: I went to a recording school for a year and I went to college... 
TO: Pre-Royal Trux? 
JH: College was simultaneous 'cause I moved to New York while we were doing it. 
Neil was gonna move to New York so I only applied to one school. I was a 
freshman and you can only get into the classes that you can get in. There was 
one class that was on theory that was beyond calculus and I was like, 'Hmmmm.' 
There was one really technical class where it was about soldering and it started 

there and went on. It was all done at Planet Sound which is where the Fat Boys 
recorded. Neil and I actually started recording the first album and we'd gone to 

so many studios - we'd worked with Warton Tiers and all these different guys 
that all had this information about how things should be done. It's not that I 
disagreed but I wanted to know why they were saying it and what was going on. So 

I would go to the class at the studio and ask all these questions. 'Why this?' 
'Why that?' 
TO: Were you driving them crazy? 
JH: Yeah, I guess I was kinda...They were a bit like older people that were 
trying to make a career and I was a real pain in the ass. But then I quit and 
dropped out of college and we moved to san Francisco. The School for Recording 
Arts in San Francisco. You know that place? You can take a semester for $400, 
and they had this certificate thing and I wanted to have it as an ID whenever I 
went in to record somewhere I would just flash it and keep moving. 'Pardon me.' 
I was there for two weeks and I blew it, I quit, but picked up enough about what 

the hell was going on. Fundamentally its all pretty simple. 
TO: What was the reason for bailing on the place? 
JH: In San Francisco? Uhh... 
TO: I can guess... 
JH: There was definitely problems. 
TO: anyway, that whole Virgin Records deal enabled you to buy a house and set up 

a studio. Then you ended up working with David Briggs... 
JH: Yeah, he was the most awesome guy. 
TO: I kind of figured he helped you set up the studio. 
JH: The first Virgin album was done down in Memphis at Keynote recording studio 
that was at the time, owned by Joe Walsh. David was a really particular and 
peculiar guy. He didn't really do a lot of work in his life, Spirit, "Easy 
Action" [Alice Cooper], and a bunch of Neil Young records. I remember the day he 

called me, and said, "Cats and Dogs...I love this. I'm coming out to your 
house." Two days later he flew out to the middle of nowhere in Virginia and was 
sleeping on our floor. When the record was done, it didn't end. For a year 
afterwards he was calling twice a week. Then he got really sick, and we were 
always talking until the day before he died. There's liner notes in the "Spirit" 

reissues and Randy California wrote this really succinct description of David 
Briggs. You should get it. 
TO: Did he come across your stuff accidentally? 
JH: He had done a Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds record and he'd been sent a bunch 
of records that were coming ut around that time and he got "Cats and Dogs". then 

we signed to Virgin and he was a producer that we were kind of interested in 
talking to so we had our A & R person call him and he knew "Cats and Dogs" so he 

said, "Why don't you just call them?" So he called us and we started talking. 
TO: Were you under pressure to find a name producer? 
JH: No, we wanted one! We'd never had the money to have one. I mean, we were 
gonna use him for "Sweet Sixteen" too, and we were already talking about how we 
were gonna do it and that's how it came to pass that he'd come out to see the 
house after we'd bought it and we were doing a lot of remodeling and 
construction and we started talking about bass traps and stuff for that back 
room. He didn't know he had cancer - he just thought he had a really bad back. 
"Sweet Sixteen," we were gonna do it there. Then he got really sick and we 
couldn't find... We met with one other producer, this guy, Peter Cohn, who had 
done a lot of Rush records and also happened to be the brother of our A&R 
person. It didn't work out that great. It was meant to be this other way, but 
since it can't be we're just gonna deal with it on our own. And we had the guy, 
Greag Archilla, who did the engineering for "Thank You," do the mixing as if 
everything had gone to plan. 
TO: Did Virgin want to supervise mixing? 
JH: They would have loved to have done all those things. They would have loved 
for us to use Peter Cohn, they would have loved for us to have not taken all the 

money and built a studio. It didn't make them happy at all. at a certain point I 

think they were like, "Hands off. If we give them enough rope they'll just hang 
themselves." It wasn't like a "Fuck You" to them at all. It was just how we 
thought it should be. 
TO: So, your last record you did all at home. Did you mix it somewhere else? 
JH: No, we mixed "Accelerator" there. 
TO: Through the Mackie? I've got a Mackie 32 x 8... 
JH: We record through the pre-amps but nothing goes down on tape without being 
put through them again. Everything is outboard. We don't even use EQ on the 
Mackie. Its basically the faders. It's just like a landscape machine. 
TO: So you've got a bunch of outboard EQ? Do you have a lot of racks? 
JH: Yeah. 
TO: You must have a massive patch bay system! 
JH: It gets really...the whole balanced / unbalanced...I'll be putting them in 
and out, the signals not going through, and I'll be, 'Fuck!' Everytime we get 
something new we have to re-configure everything... 
TO: I know all about that. 
JH: Ya know, we've got nearfield monitors, Genelecs. And I'll check it on a 
boombox. Standard stuff. 
TO: Do you do all the engineering yourselves? 
JH: Yeah, and Paul [Oldham]. He didn't know that much about it at the beginning 
but we sent him to school. actually he's got two credits to go. 
TO: You haven't had anyone record at your house? 
JH: No. Nobody except for us. 
TO: Is there a reason or is that just the way it's gonna be? 
JH: Yeah, that's the way it's gonna be. The way we do stuff...the next thing is 
going to be on a hit record. My idea is to put on a hit record, watch the 
analysis, and make sure that the next album we write is gonna be the exact same 
pattern. 
TO: You need an oscilloscope too. 
JH: Yeah, of course. Behringer's got some awesome stuff coming out. It's gonna 
really encompass all of that. "We'll make it look like this." So nobody is 
allowed in there. 
TO: But you've done mixes for other people there. 
JH: If they send us stuff that's already been tracked and they dump it down to 
ADAT. But nobody can track in there. 
TO: So what about the Make-Up ["In Mass Mind" produced by Neil and Jennifer]? 
JH: I went with Neil. he and I set it up at this studio [Stillness] that was 
maybe an hour away from us. It's set up like ours, in a big, old house. The 
guy's done a lot of stuff. It's analog. Those guys in the Make-Up, they're kind 
of into a purist thing. We did all the tracking and all the mixing there. 
TO: Do you enjoy producing other bands? 
JH: Yeah. They just had these really rough ideas. some riffs. Then we just made 
this thing and Ian was just furiously writing lyrics as we were arranging 
instruments. 
TO: He was actually writing down lyrics? It sounds just like he... 
JH: Well, he does make some up! We got him the Anita Baker cover, "We Really 
Want You To Do This Song." It is great working with them. 
TO: What about Will Oldham? Have you done anything beside that "Trudy Dies" 
single? 
JH: No, we did "Trudy Dies". We did Edith Frost...I left...We were offered the 
job and they sent the demos of just her, guitars and vocals, very simple. She 
wanted to put it to record as a full band. We started coming up with ideas for 
it and stuff and I just realized that I could not deal with it at all so I flew 
to San Francisco. So Neil called me up and he had her crying and stuff. 
TO: Did he play on it at all? 
JH: Well, he's played on everything he's worked on but I always make sure it's 
mixed really low 'cause there's no guitar player like Neil. I always insist that 

we get royalties as well as a producer's fee because when he puts anything on a 
record...It's gonna change it. On the Will thing he pretty much played all the 
instruments. 
TO: Isn't that like organ... 
JH: actually we had Liam doing that. Liam from Plush. That's how they met; Will 
and Liam. Liam is just a Mellotron freak. That's all he does, is work on 
Mellotrons. It's the most insane endeavor, really. 
TO: I read that you forced Dan [at Drag City] to put out the first Palace 
record. 
JH: Wasn't into it at all. We were like, "Dan!" 
TO: Does he like it now? 
JH: He and Will are really tight. I don't think he's gonna put out any more of 
Will's records though. They're all good friends but it wasn't his cup of tea at 
all. He just wasn't into it. Neil and I put on a tape of Will's when we were in 
Chicago and we were like, "Hey. A singer/songwriter. Have you ever though about 
this?" And he was, "Oh man!" We were like, "C'mon, listen." We kept playing it 
over and over for four days and finally he was just, "Shut up." We just talked 
him into it. We felt like he should branch out a bit, ya know? He only had two 
or three bands. 
TO: Wanna get technical? What kind of mics do you guys like to use? 
JH: The AKG 535 is my mic of choice. It's kind of a whiny mic. It's what I use 
for my vocals...exclusively. Neil uses an Audio Technica 4033. 
TO: What do you use for drums? 
JH: For the kick, there's this one AKG that the one drummer we were using before 

wanted. It was a D110, not the D112. He got really anal about it. We were just, 
"OK. Whatever this shit is." We tried to find it. They only made it for a year. 
We spent a long time trying to find it so we got the D112. We use Sennheiser 
overheads and we always put PZMs up. 
TO: Does it always change? 
JH: There's no formula. Each record sounds really different but it's all within 
the scope of the equipment we own. We keep buying new stuff. 
TO: So that's all in the back part of your house? 
JH: Yeah. It's got a really high ceiling with beams going across. We've got a 
PZM that's always slapped at the very top. Sometimes it's good and sometimes you 

just erase that track. There's a bathroom that's pretty much a bass trap. It 
gets these really great sounds. We do a lot of the vocals there because when we 
built the studio we had custom 300 foot cables made that go to the fourth floor 
of the house. I do the vocals on the third floor. There's an old, wooden landing 

and the ceiling goes up 30 or 40 feet. The guy who owned the house before us was 

a carpenter and built mirrors into everything. Just clapping there...there's 
just awesome sound. 
TO: Do you put an extra mic in there or let that mic pick up the ambience? 
JH: Yeah, it picks it up. lot of times Neil will record a lot of his guitar 
tracks in the old part of the house, which has a lot of stone, stone fireplace, 
etc. Then, we take the tracks and set up a really large speaker cabinet on the 
landing and we play the guitar tracks back out and re-record them. 
TO: Do you have one of those Reamp boxes? 
JH: No... 
TO: Its called Reamp. They make this transformer box where you can take it 
straight off of tape and plug it into an amp and it's the perfect level for a 
guitar amp. That way you're not overdriving the input. 
JH: Yeah. We lost one of our Drawmers...it's really depressing. I haven't dealt 
with sending it back to England. as far as voltage and stuff like that...it's 
all hit and miss. We blow stuff up all the time. 
TO: Do you have any ribbon mics? You can fry those pretty easy. 
JH: Yeah, I know. No ribbons but we've got a shitload of drawers full of mics. 
Actually, the mic list I got - what to buy - came from David and Greg, our 
drummer. I already knew AKG was my vocal mic. "We used it on "Thank You" and I 
used it on tour. I grew to like it. It is really hot, and I have no lung 
capacity whatsoever. I don't even tour with it now - a lot of small clubs don't 
even have phantom power. We went on this long tour and we had this roadies, this 

kid from Philadelphia...really crusty, blowin' snot out of his nose...and he was 

always doing the sound checks and Neil would come up with the bleach. Neil would 

bleach my mic three times a day. By the end of the tour the diaphragm was just 
disintegrated. We had to send it to California to be redone. That's one good 
reason to carry your own mic. I've noticed that even if they're in good shape 
they smell like someone else's bad breath. And there's all those little germs 
living inside it. Bleach is not the answer. 
TO: Are you planning to record some more stuff after the tour? 
JH: We started recording a little bit before we came out here. We're gonna take 
the band and record for two days, two songs, straight on with the band. We've 
been trying to work on this one song during sound checks. 
TO: While the band's playing well together? 
JH: Yeah. It's a 40 date tour...it's a long tour. 
TO: It is, but we don't allow ourselves back there everyday. We go back there 
when there's a plan. Otherwise, the tapes would be stacked up to the ceiling. 
We'd be excessive and insane and we'd work too much! c/o: Drag City Recs., PO 
Box 476867, Chicago, IL 60647 


1 9 9 9 

Checkout.com [1999]
"Veteran Of Disorder: Jennifer Herrema Shoots Straight on Music, Drugs, and Life 
in Royal Trux" by Jay Sosnicki

Neil Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema of Royal Trux have been on a singular path 
from day one. Their albums reside in the gray area between the grit and grease 
of vintage Stones and the freeform flights of Ornette Coleman. In other words, 
they represent the entire spectrum of blues derived music, reconstituted and 
spit out in a chaotic, pre-millennial package. More than any other band in the 
'90s, Royal Trux have succeeded in redefining rock's often limited sonic 
palette. 
The couple met in the early '80s, when Herrema was 16. She claims to have been 
struck instantly: "I was totally into Neil's lyrics, his guitar playing and he 
had a really weird voice. It was something I hadn't heard before. We were a lot 
alike in certain ways, so it actually took a long time to get to know each 
other." Still, they quickly became inseparable, spending much of their time 
laying the groundwork for what would become Royal Trux. Their goal was ambitious 
-- to defy categorization in every way. They struggled in New York City for a 
few years, while Neil paid his dues with seminal art-noise rockers Pussy Galore 
(led by the now ubiquitous Jon Spencer). It was not an easy situation for 
Hagerty and Herrema, who were contributing songs to the group, but finding 
little creative satisfaction: "Pussy Galore was basically Jon and Julia 
(Cafritz), period, end of discussion. Both of them come from very rich families 
who were willing to support them. I wanted to go to school in New York City, and 
Neil had no way of supporting himself, so he just took the gig." 
After Pussy Galore's demise, the duo signed with Chicago indie Drag City, where 
they released some of the most brilliant (or excruciating, depending on your 
opinion) rock and roll of the last 30 years. They also built a reputation for 
out-of-control drug abuse that dogs them to this day (though Herrema claims both 
she and Neil are now clean). By 1994, major labels hungry for "indie cred" had 
begun sniffing around the group -- with a contract in hand that guaranteed total 
creative autonomy, the Trux signed with Virgin. And while the label was enamored 
of Herrema and Hagerty's lawless reputation, they were less happy with the 
records the pair turned in. 1995's Thank You was a fairly straight-ahead effort 
that scored critically, but sold dismally. Sweet Sixteen, the group's first 
masterpiece, followed two years later, adorned with the most infamous album 
cover art in history -- a photo of a vomit and detritus filled toilet bowl. "It 
reminded me of my 16th birthday," says Herrema with a laugh. Predictably, Virgin 
opted out of a third Royal Trux release, resulting in a fat payday for the 
group: "We did the Virgin deal so we'd never be beholden to anybody. We bought a 
house in Virginia, built a studio, bought some equipment we needed. And then we 
went back to Drag City..." 
The group's latest release, Veterans of Disorder, may be their most fully 
realized record yet -- a solid balance of balls-out rock and the sonic 
experimentation on which they cut their teeth. And though Herrema comes off at 
times like a Gen X stoner in conversation, creatively, she retains a 
diamond-hard sense of purpose... 
JS: Do you feel that image is important in rock and roll? 
JH: It's important for me, but it's not necessarily important in conjunction 
with rock and roll. Ever since I was a little kid, dressing myself in the 
morning was very important for me. I would feel so uncomfortable when my mom 
would try and put me in dresses, so uncomfortable on a daily basis that I felt I 
was barely getting through the day. When I dress myself now, it's not about 
baggy pants comfortable, it's about feeling right about what I'm projecting. 
Neil could care less and he makes fun of me a lot, but I don't care, it's 
important to me. As far as music goes, image is probably detrimental. 
JS: Well, whatever you're doing works. Your stage persona is completely 
unique... 
JH: Well, for me, a thing that's been a running theme from day one is to never 
be less than the music as a person onstage -- never just be 'the chick,' or 'the 
chick that's acting like a guy.' Transcending all of that, to a certain extent, 
is what I'm trying to get at. And there's nothing I can take cues from, because 
I've never seen it before. 
JS: So none of that dopey feminist rhetoric ever enters the picture... 
JH: That whole discussion of "women in rock" completely negates any kind of 
power that women might have. It creates a separation right there -- does anyone 
ever say "men in rock"? Or should they? No, they should just say fucking rock. 
Anytime a so-called feminist calls attention to [these issues], I think it just 
topples the whole thing. 
JS: You and Neil seem to have found the perfect balance of living and doing art 
together... 
JH: Yeah, I think it's something I tend to take for granted until it's noted by 
someone else -- it's always good to hear. This is the way my life has been since 
I was 16-years-old, and it just seems like the most normal, natural way of 
living. If I look back, I guess there were a lot of maneuvers that had to be 
done to get things to a place where [our relationship and the band] were all one 
thing. All the bullshit things that are part of most relationships had to be 
abolished immediately -- jealousy, secrecy, game-playing, all that shit. I mean, 
there was plenty of lying going on during our drug use, because if I had more 
drugs than him I certainly wasn't gonna tell him (laughs). But as far as our 
relationship goes, that never really enters into it. I think it's just a 
relationship that exists, it's not something we really need to work on... 
JS: I know this is a tired subject, but when you were both into heroin, were you 
pursuing it with a will or was it something you just fell into? 
JH: Well, when we first started doing it, it was just one of many drugs that 
would just get us fucked up. It didn't matter if it was dope, coke, acid, speed, 
whatever. But I found that over the course of a year in New York that when I 
wasn't doing dope, it was always in the back of my head, you know? I remember 
thinking that all the days in between were actually just wasted, ruined days, 
because I was just waiting to do it again. So the day we moved to San Francisco, 
I got the pager number of a dealer and that was it. There was nothing 
intellectual about it, it was pure brain chemistry manipulation that I was into 
(laughs). I was gonna be fucked up on something -- I just decided that dope was 
the best drug I could get and I was into it. 
JS: Did it ever reach a point where it became more important than the music? 
JH: No, it never became more important, but for a couple of years it definitely 
took up a lot more time than the music. It was a 24/7 type job keeping the money 
coming in and scoring the drugs to keep going. But the music was a grounding 
factor -- if we didn't constantly think about the music, there would be no 
purpose at all... 
JS: What made you decide to clean up? 
JH: At a certain point in San Francisco, I got so sick that I almost died. My 
arm swelled up from an abscess and I'd gotten an infection that had gone into my 
chest. I didn't have any money, so I called my dad to see if he could check me 
into a hospital. That was the beginning of the time when I had to stop. It was 
the first time in the hospital, but it definitely wasn't the last. The second 
time I ended up in a shelter and that really sucked (laughs). I think it was the 
cumulative effect of going through these shitty situations and being so sick I 
couldn't go on, finding myself in situations that were really, totally fucked. 
JS: What about now? Are you guys clean clean, or just keeping things low-key... 
JH: Nothing much. Cigarettes and caffeine. I still struggle with pills on 
occasion. I take a lot of psychotropic drugs [for manic depression] that I'm 
really into that my doctors got me on. When somebody offers me drugs, especially 
when I can carry them around legally, I'm gonna take 'em (laughs). All the 
medications I take now seem to work out pretty good. I get out of bed in the 
morning and everything's pretty good. 
JS: Considering your druggy past, do musicians ever come into the band thinking 
they've got to compete with you on a substance level? 
JH: It's always stated upfront that you can't come into our house -- much less 
our studio or our van -- and do drugs. You can't do them in front of us. You can 
do drugs if you want, but if you bring yourself to work totally fucked up and 
unable to carry yourself in a professional manner, then you will be taken down 
(laughs). I can't say that I hate it when that happens, because sometimes it 
really is a lot of fun to totally fuck with people...but everyone knows what's 
going to happen if they show up unprepared for work. 
JS: Is touring with Royal Trux a pretty intense gig? Do people tend to get 
sucked dry? 
JH: Yeah, I think it's probably a pretty demanding job, but it needn't be so 
fucking dramatic. The really direct way that we express ourselves with the 
people we're working with has nothing to do with them personally, it's just 
about getting the idea across without wasting time. We don't say "I don't like 
what you're doing," it's more like "you're fucking up, this is shit, and do it 
differently." Period. Now, you can take it at face value and move on, or you can 
let it turn into a soap opera all the time. There's a bunch of people we've 
worked with where its actually been that way -- where it ends in collapse for 
them and they have to go away for awhile. But what I've always heard from them 
in retrospect is what a learning experience it was. I'm not saying that we're 
here to be teachers for anybody, but the thought crosses my mind occasionally 
that we really need to start charging people to tour with us (laughs). I think 
that they end up being taught a lot -- dealing with the rigors of the road and 
just basically how to be fucking professional. 
JS: Within the context of the band, what's your proudest accomplishment? 
JH: I don't know. I know that anytime I finish a tour or a record, I'm 
completely satisfied -- but I also know that I'm not there. And there is 
someplace I don't know where it is. I think that recognizing that there's a lot 
more to be done is my greatest accomplishment. Always pushing myself a little 
further...

Royal Trux : Accelerator Rock
by Piero Scaruffi
1999 

Royal Trux devoted their last two albums each one to a decade, the Sixties and 
the Seventies. Many interpreted this choice as a commercial sell-out. {Thank 
You} (Virgin, 1995) boasted a finally-stable line-up and a professional sound. 
The leaders, rehabilitated from their drug addiction, turned to playing mostly 
like diligent disciples of the Rolling Stones (if not Gran Funk Railroad). Last 
year's {Sweet Sixteen} (Charisma, 1997) did not improve over this mediocre 
standard. That feticist orgy of glam-rock, new wave and progressive-rock was 
appealing in a morbid way but still unfocused and only remotely connected to the 

alternative scene they came from. The songs of these albums are overall 
pleasant: what they miss is the sparks of genius that embellished masterpieces 
such as {Twin Infinitives} (Drag City, 1990) and the first, eponymous album, or 
even unpretentious but tasty offerings such as {Cats And Dogs} (and boy that was 

some tribute to the Seventies) and the third album. 
Piero Scarfuffi: I was surprised that, while this album marks your return to the 

independent scene after a stint with major labels, it is by far your most 
professional-sounding and loud work ever. 
Neil Hagerty: I guess that's the way it came out. We've always been able to 
play, so it's not like we just improve our technique. Of course, any new album 
summarizes the previous experience, and that helps to improve. These songs were 
all written while we were touring last summer and may have benefited from live 
rehearsal and the positive mood of that time. 
PS: Is it true that this album continues a trilogy of tributes to the last three 

decades? 
NH: Yes, that was the original agreement with the major we signed for a few 
years ago. We wanted to employ the original recording techniques of each age 
and, obviously, try to imitate the spirit of the time. This one is about the 
Eighties, and specifically the mid-Eighties, when musicians started switching 
over to digital. We used tons of electronics, and maybe that's why it sounds the 

way it sounds. Also, this album was supposed to be for a major label too, but we 

ended up dumped. Nonetheless, we decided to finish the record as it was, it 
would have taken too much work to re-do it. No, we won't get to the Nineties, 
that whole way of thinking is gone out for us now. Besides, I really wouldn't 
know what to say about the Nineties: this is just the decade before the 
millenium, not much else. The trilogy is completed. In retrospect, it plots a 
linear progression, and offers a counter-revision of the music of the time. By 
"revision" I mean when you romanticize the period, and by "counter-revision" I 
mean that we actually re-establish the true spirit of the era. A 
counter-revision counter-acts the phantasy that surrounds an era. Over the last 
30 years people have developed the idea that not knowing the past is better than 

knowing about it. We simply rememeber the icons, the surface. We wanted to go 
beyond the icons and resuscitate the age as it was. And, yes, it was also a way 
for us to make a music that is more commercial and skillfully played, so as to 
please the label. 
PS: You sound more like a historian than a musician... 
NH: Well, I am an historian to some extent. Meaning that I am very conscious of 
the past, of the evolution of style. It is a very important factor and it is sad 

that people don't pay enough attention to it. People are focusing more on Elvis 
Presley instead of Chuck Berry, because it's easier to pursue an icon than a 
real genius who changed the way we play. At the same time, the past is a useful 
reference, it provides you with a built-in unlimited reserve of dynamics and 
anger to work from. 
PS: Is there a parodistic intention in your mix of exploitation and 
re-interpretation of classic styles of the past? 
NH: Absolutely no. Of course, our method highlights contradictions, but never 
from a paradistic angle. We are really trying to get some value out of those 
times. For example, the Eighties in America very supposedly a great time, when 
champagne was flowing. Truth is that everybody we ever played with was 
miserable. Period. Now Washington DC even renamed the airport for Ronald Reagan, 

because Reagan is an icon of those good old times. I think that it's the time to 

look back. People romanticize his presidency, but there was a lot of horror back 

then. Same with the Sixties and Seventies. We tend to romanticise different 
realities from the point of view of pop culture. I have a different viewpoint, 
which stems from a fascination with history. I want to learn about the mistakes 
that were made, so that I can say, well, i'd use that strategy but i'll try to 
correct it. It's just another resource to do something new and better. 
PS: What about your obsession with 70's rock (progressive-rock, Cream, Jimi 
Hendrix, hard-rock, Gran Funk Railroad, Rolling Stones...)? 
NH: I am obviously more emotionally attached to that time, because that's when I 

was growing up, although sometimes it's a negative feeling. Basically, our music 

is very much rooted in the blues and all those bands were blues-bands, so it 
doesn't surprise me that we sound like them. We all sound like the blues! My 
personal influence was more the independent scene of the Eighties, bands such as 

Black Flag, Television and Ramones. A lot of stuff I didn't listen to when I was 

in the 70's until later. 
PS: Was and/or is Jon Spencer still an influence on you guys? 
NH: Yes, of course, it was an important experience. Now I think of it as the 
punk-rock band i was in as a teenager. I never wanted to spend my life in it. It 

was Jon's band, he had his ideas, he was driven by what he wanted to do. I just 
figured I'd go along a couple of years and will get some experience. It's like 
being in the national service. It's useful as a credential when I want to do a 
20-minute solo... hey I was in Pussy Galore, I have a right to do that! But i 
don't feel responsible for anything we did. I really had nothing to do with it. 
PS: Let's play back your career. Start with the first album. 
NH: {Royal Trux} (Royal, 1988) was sort of a mission statement. We were trying 
to touch on all possible things we might do in the future. It's pretty 
consistent. What we did later shouldn't be a surprise because if you look back 
at our first album everything was already there. Check out the instrumental, 
[Hashish]: those were already creative musicians. 
PS: {Twin Infinitives} (Drag City, 1990)... 
NH: I keep reading that it was recorded during drug orgies in San Francisco and 
I get a little annoyed by this. Yes, we were into drugs. But that was the 
problem, that's why it took so long to put it together. All the music was 
written and played when we were sober. Unfortunately, that wasn't very often. It 

took us five times as long to organize it. But the truth is that playing and 
writing was done during the moments of lucidity. We were caught into a thing 
where people knew we were in drugs and that was our cult status. That was the 
impression that people had of us and we couldn't escape from it. The truth is 
that our songwriting had nothing to do with drugs. We simply wanted to push rock 

and rolll songwriting as far as we could go. It was still rock and roll but 
people wouldn't see it that way. It was a sincerely anti-authoritarian, 
class-hatred and so forth statement. Captain Beefheart's "Trout Mask Replica" 
was a big influence. That's totally the scuplting of "Twin Infinitived". I was 
fascinated by that time in history, the mid-Seventies, when the record market 
was expanding so rapidly that labels would allow musicians the luxury to record 
these ambitious double albums. In a few years so many rock masterpieces came 
out... the Stones' "Exile On Main Street", Zappa's "Uncle Meat"... We wanted to 
reach back into that climate. In retrospect, it's very much American art and 
craft, it's very hand-made sounding. It deals with the mundane details. We were 
intrigued by how the perception of observation and the system of the language 
could make mundane details look and sound magical. It's this simple sort of 
americanized banality that surfaces in all arts... 
PS: The third album... 
NH: It came out in 1992, after a long time. We basically wanted to write songs 
that we would do live. So it has a somewhat standard rock and roll format. But 
in a way it is a recaputalition of "Twin Infinitives". I also hope that it gives 

a more intimate impression of the band. Our reputation was so bad and it wasn't 
true. Sometimes we would just pick up on things people expected to hear from us. 

This time we tried to simplify them as much as possible. Then we toured a lot. 
That's when we started thinking of messing with the mainstream... 
PS: {Cats And Dogs}... 
NH: After all that touring, we were very familiar with the alternative scene and 

this was basically a little, affectionate parody of that scene, of all these 
bands that were so sincere and ambitious and at the same time were struggling to 

survive. It's not a practical joke, we respected them. We had played with 
hundreds of bands and we got a really good sense of what was going on at that 
moment. It was just before Pearl Jam and Nirvana and all that crap came out of 
Seattle. In a way it's just us being involved in that scene and making a comment 

on it. I don't have that one extra peice of evilness or contempt to make it a 
parody. I love people, I love people's frailty and vulnerability. There was 
something kind of pathetic about all these alternative bands, a certain energy 
that they put into it knowing that it will never come back. I just wanted to 
capture that contradiction. 
PS: {Thank You} (Virgin, 1995)... 
NH: So we finally signed with a major label. After finishing "Twin Infinitives", 

we realized that we had credibility. At least that. At the time, bands were 
being signed for prestige reasons. Of course we knew that labels try to 
manipulate bands, so we drafted our own contract to defend our independency. 
This album was one step beyond "Cats and Dogs". This time we employed cut-ups 
and we pulled lyrics out from popular songs and weave the pieces together. Music 

and lyrics were randomly constructed. In the Sixties people had a sense of 
self-importance, the idea that they could stop the world. So we tried to show 
that kind of attitude. For the first and only time we surrendered control of the 

actual recording to the producer, so we could be able to get a higher fidelity 
sound. 
PS: {Sweet Sixteen} (Charisma, 1997)... 
NH: It takes the same line of investigation, just applies it to the Seventies. 
The main difference is that all the songs are very first person, they talk about 

what we felt. We produced it ourselves on the heels of the way the previous one 
had been done. We had the rule that every song had to be 4 minutes long or more. 

If too short, we would pack in an instrumental break. The musicians had real 
free reins, they could do little jams... It's really just one big chunk of 
music. The singing is separated by large chunk of music, not even within a song 
but even from song to song. We tried to achieve a balance of singing and music. 
We also tried to push the reggae influence by employing the huge double bass. 
Well, when they heard it, the record company said you have to do it again. We 
had to bring the contract to a lawyer and force the label to put it out as it 
was. They only pressed what was required by law. We went on tour we were 
abandoned by them. 
PS: Finally, {Accelerator} (Drag City, 1998)... 
NH: That summarizes our evolution from Pussy Galore to today! 


Royal Trux interview
by Matt Hilburn
www.stlouis.citysearch.com
1999
You could hardly call the first Royal Trux releases music, but some ten years 
after they formed from the dust of Pussy Galore, the duo of Neil Hagerty and 
Jennifer Herrema have released "Veterans of Disorder," an album that showcases 
matured song writing, wailing guitar hooks and a lust for life on the edge. 
Jennifer Herrema spoke with Citysearch's Matt Hilburn.
Matt Hilburn: OK, for starters, who's Maggie? [A somewhat titillating photo of 
her appears on the CD liner notes.]
Jennifer Herrema: Actually, I don't know. I've never met her. She's a friend of 
the photographer.
MH: I think most people reading this won't have ever heard of you. How would you 

describe your latest album, "Veterans of Disorder?"
JH: I say, in my best approximation for a description, or at least what it ended 

up sounding like to me, was a compilation of singles, but that's pretty much 
owing to the different instrumentation, the different musicians and the 
different production values on each song. Basically, I would say to someone 
who's never heard of us who is going to pick up that record is if they listen to 

the first song, and they don't like it, maybe they should go to the third song 
because they might like it. Or, if they don't like the third song, maybe they 
should go to the first. Maybe there's something on there that someone will like, 

but if not, they should just go to a whole different record.
MH: Got a favorite track from it? Why do you like that one?
JH: Right now...ever since we finished the record, I've gone through different 
phases with different tracks. This week, I've been kind of stuck on "Coming Out 
Party." "Blues Is the Frequency" was last week's track. I couldn't get that one 
out of my head.
MH: How does "Veterans" fit in with the music you made 10 years ago?
JH: It's all Royal Trux. Having said that, the past is not prologue. Every album 

pretty much sounds different. It's still me, and it's still Neil. Just every 
year there's different musicians, different instrumentations, different ways of 
recording. It's all Royal Trux.
MH: What themes from "Accelerator" does "Veterans of Disorder" pick up on?
JH: I would say that some of the production is the same process. It was just 
that some of the songs lent themselves to the same process. On "Water Park" I 
used the same microphone and triple tracked it like I did on with a lot of 
"Accelerator." We used the same compressors, and the song is like songs on 
"Accelerator" because it's very simple, very straightforward.
MH: What effect did becoming clean have on your music?
JH: Well, I know it had an effect in like...a huge effect, but it's really hard 
to put a finger on it because it didn't happen overnight. It just kind of 
evolved. It took a while to get clean. I guess one thing I can say for sure is 
that being addicted to any kind of drug is pretty much a 24/7 type of job, so it 

takes a lot of time. I guess I can say now that I have a lot more time, and I 
can get stuff done a lot quicker, and there are not a lot of gaps between the 
start of an idea and the realization of it. The process has gotten sleeker.
MH: I've read a lot of interviews with Neil, and a lot of things he says are 
very tongue in cheek. That kind of begs the question of are you guys for real, 
or are you just having a laugh seeing how far you can take this?
JH: It's for real. I've been doing this since I was 16. If it wasn't for real, I 

would have gotten my laughs by now and moved on. We love what we do. We're 
compelled to do what we do. It's no joke, but at the same time, we've never 
asked anyone to take us seriously. You can, or you can not. But we have no 
expectations.
MH: Why do you think you haven't had the success of Jon Spencer?
JH: Oh, I think we've had more success.
MH: Are you trying to be Sonic Youth? Nashville Pussy? Sid and Nancy? Somewhere 
in between?
JH: No. Actually, there is absolutely no real connection there. I guess when I 
was 15, I listened to "Evol" a lot. It was a pretty important record for me. 
Sonic Youth does what they do well, and that's that. Nashville Pussy, I've never 

heard. Sid and Nancy...as far as I know, Nancy was not in the band...didn't play 

music or write, so right there we can write her off. So, really, there's nothing 

to be said about any of that.
MH: What's in your CD player or tape deck now?
JH: I've been listening to Spirit's "12 Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus." I don't 
listen to music every day. That one turned into a CD that could be on repeat for 

the entire day.
MH: Why do you think Virgin Records snapped you up and then dropped you so fast?
JH: Virgin wanted us really bad, and we decided that we would only go to a major 

label on our own terms, and they offered those terms, so we went. We never had 
any thoughts of complying with hit-making prerequisites, which in fact, there 
are many. I'm sure in the media savvy stage, most people realize that hits are 
made. They don't just happen. That being said, there are many prerequisites, and 

there are certain things that were compelling and some that were repelling about 

Virgin. We would not concede to many of the things. We had a three record deal, 
and we gave them two. The second record was very much not what they wanted at 
all. They wanted a producer, they wanted us to record at Muscle Shoals. They 
wanted a lot of things, and according to the nature of our contract, we could do 

whatever we wanted. That being said, with the nature of majors being political 
-kind of a you scratch our back, we'll scratch yours. When we stopped scratching 

their backs they stopped. The third record we started working on it, and we told 

them that we started. They wanted to know under what conditions, they said they 
wanted to hear it, and we said no. In our contract there was nothing about that. 

They could either take it or not, but they were not going to get to hear it. I 
guess in the end we were hoping that they wouldn't take it because the contract 
said that regardless of whether they took it or not, they had to pay for it. 
Since they didn't get to hear it, they said no, and we got out $400,000 and 
walked.
MH: Where are you from?
JH: I was born in D.C. I was into the DC hardcore scene. It was really important 

to me.
MH: What got you into the whole sex, drugs and rock and roll thing?
JH: I had always been into music, and I guess it was kind of like...I'm not 
sure...I guess a lot of teenagers get into music in a lot of ass backwards ways, 

I went to a lot of parties in school with all the older kids. They were great 
parties with acid and weed. The music was all Dead, Sabbath and Zeppelin. I was 
into that by association. It was kind of an accident. I was in a record store, 
and I was flipping through the imports, and I bought the Clash's first album, 
and I was like WOW. I had never heard anything like that. I guess I just started 

exploring. My dad would drop me off at shows, so I would go see Bad Brains or 
Flipper. It was cool.
JH: As for the drug thing...The first time I smoked pot I was 11. I guess the 
nature of my personality made it so that I never wanted to stop.
MH: Why did you retreat to rural Virginia? What do you find for inspiration 
there, as opposed to the bigger cities where you've been based?
JH: I've got enough information in my head from over the years that I don't 
think I need anything...I'm not wanting for any kind of information. I would say 

that living in New York for four years, San Francisco for three years, Chicago 
on and off and D.C., I pretty much got what I need from the cities. I'd say that 

five months out of the year, we're traveling in big cities. Horse country in 
Virginia is much more beautiful than vacant lots in Brooklyn.
MH: How do you manage when one half of the band has a fear of flying?
JH: It [the fear of flying] started in late '95 . Neil just decided that it was 
uncomfortable, and he wasn't going to do it. From then, we just decided to take 
the boat everywhere. It hasn't presented any problems other than doing Reading 
last year, which is a one-off show, so it wasn't really worth it to take the QE 
II. I just went and took another guitar player. Neil has been doing 
hypnotherapy, so he's going to fly. We'll see how it goes this year. In November 

he's going to fly.
MH: Why do you think your music inspires such a love/hate reaction?
JH: Because it's not mediocre.
MH: You ever thought about just chucking all the rock and roll and something 
else? What would that be?
JH: No, there's nothing else to do. 


Veterans Of Disorder
by Gloria M. Wong
Nylon Magazine
1999

"Okay, so I've got to get ready to be photographed," Jennifer Herrema tells me 
in a hoarse voice that manages to sound like a growly whisper no matter what 
the volume. It's a sweltering New York day, and Herrema and Neil Haggerty, the 
two responsible parties for Royal Trux, have just stepped off their Mystery 
Machine-esque tour van at New York City's Knitting Factory. "Getting ready" 
for Herrema means zipping up a pair of snakeskin high-heeled boots, washing 
her face in the Knitting Factory's decrepit backstage bathroom (a room, from 
the looks of it, that may have launched a thousand highs), and taping up the 
rips in her jeans, cobbled together from dozens of cherished old Levi's, with 
camouflage duct tape ("I'm from hunting country, this is what they have 
there"). Haggerty is more elusive, darting in and out as the band's 
sound-check is getting started downstairs. Marlboro menthols are secured, and 
Heineken beers are popped open. Herrema pulls her hand through her modified 
shag - complete with bowl-cut bangs - and she's ready to roll.
Royal Trux is on tour promoting Pound for Pound, their ninth album, which has 
just hit the stores. The Trux are still trucking - Pound is more of their own 
strange brand of unpredictable, alternately difficult and transcendent, 
experimental rock. Herrema and Haggerty met when she was 16 at a Washington, 
DC, concert. They've been together ever since, enduring more than a decade of 
highs and lows. The ups included a lucrative, if ultimately doomed, record 
deal with Virgin (they're now back with their original label, Drag City), and 
the lows featured bouts of debilitating drug abuse, like the time Haggerty was 
so high he dived head first into the sidewalk in front of CBGB, crushing all 
his teeth. (His mouth now features a beautiful set of fake ones.)
Herrema speaks in the relaxed, easy drawl of a stoner, but she claims that, at 
30, her junkie days are over. "There was a long time where we wouldn't talk 
about it because we had such a bad reputation - as fuck-ups, junkies - and it 
was hard for us to get booked on gigs. This was way back, like, before they 
rolled out the red carpet for the junkies. We didn't want to talk about it, we 
wanted to talk about the music, but now, so much time has passed. I got some 
separation in my head about it, and I know what it was, how it was."
The glorified stereotype of the rock n' roll life - drugged out, dangerous, 
pushed to the edge - is as American as apple pie. On its flip side are 
desperate nights in homeless shelters, bodily misery, and stuporous, 
smack-addled hazes (as clearly evidenced on Behind the Music). "It was my 
whole life," Herrema ruefully recalls. "I had to quit, I had scars all over 
here [exposes left arm], abscesses, and there was no lower I could go. I have 
a lot of friends, and they can just drink, and they can do drugs, whatever, it 
never turns into a big thing. But when you're an addict, you're an addict, and 
you can't do that. It turned into, like, this whole bullshit thing. I tried 
all these different ways, like saying to myself, 'I'll just smoke weed,' and 
it never worked. I ended up in so many hospitals and homeless shelters."
Both Haggerty and Herrema eventually kicked the drugs. "For Neil, it was 
1993," Herrema says. "I couldn't go home, because my dad was an alcoholic, so 
I ended up in a homeless shelter. Neil and I got separated, but we weren't 
separated spiritually. I had to go to the hospital a few more times, I was 
just sick, physically, so for me it was, like, middle of '94. It's still been 
less than half my life, being clean or whatever, and I'm still learning how to 
navigate that as a whole new reality in and of itself," Herrema concludes.
Herrema and Haggerty now live on their farm in Virginia (they bought it with 
the money they got from Virgin) with neither neighbor nor friend in sight. But 
on the road, it's still sex and rock n' roll, if not drugs. That evening, at 
the sold-out Knitting Factory show, Herrema, in her Easy Rider sunglasses, 
clutches her two microphones like handlebars and moans, "Yeah, yeah" to the 
thrilled crowd. It's hard to imagine her at home anywhere else.

Glimmer Twin Infinitives
by Ed Mabe
Perfect Sound Forever
October 1999 

For those of you unfamiliar with Royal Trux, its time to wake-up and get your 
daily dose of what rock n' roll is really all about. Formed in the mid-80s after 

the demise of underground, noise-rock pioneers, Pussy Galore, the Trux have been 

twisting and turning their way through the record business like divine rock n' 
roll royalty yet undiscovered. Imagine early 70s Mick and Keith if Mick had been 

the woman he always wanted to be. Only in the case of Royal Trux you have the 
junkie-goddess (now clean) known as Jennifer Herrema prowling the stage with 
Jagger-like cockiness and her partner Neil Haggerty grinding raunchy guitar 
riffs from Sticky Fingers-era Stones. Without a doubt the Trux are true American 

originals and their story is one well worth telling. When they were recently in 
Philly to promote their new record, Veterans of Disorder, I got a chance to talk 

with Jennifer about the early days of the band, the experience of being on a 
major label, and meeting Keith Richards. 
PSF: Lets start with your interview with Keith Richards. 
JH: It was in 1995 or '96 down in Memphis and their press agent hooked up with 
our press agent and they brought us to their show. So we went and Neil and I 
were supposed to interview him and do photos and stuff with him but at the last 
minute Neil decided he didn't want to meet him. So Neil split. We got outta the 
limo and Neil's like, "man I'm not fucking going," and he just like wandered 
into the stadium and watched sound check. So I went into his trailer and he was 
like... he was like the antithesis of his persona. He's very, very short. And 
very quiet, but like wiry, animated-wiry. And just very polite. A gentleman. His 

presence was very animated but it was a small presence. And then when he got on 
stage it was like fucking huge. It was fucking phenomenal. 
I talked to him for a couple of hours and we talked about Patti LaBelle and Sara 

Dash; just mostly about music. And his press person was in there and I didn't 
write out any questions or anything, I just kinda talked to him. His press 
person definitely had specific things he wanted Keith to say. So he would inject 

certain questions so Keith could give his pat answers. So it would read 
correctly as a Keith Richards interview. 
Then Neil came in at the end for the photographs. They forced him in for the 
photographs but in the end he ended up talking to him for a long time. We wrote 
the whole thing out and the transcription was sent with our little side bar 
comments on it. Then it couldn't go straight to Raygun Magazine, it had to go to 

Keith's press agent for editing and the press agent just turned everything 
around. At the time we had a really heavy-hitter manager so we said no way. 
Raygun eventually sided with us and we got the interview our way. 
PSF: I also read one time that you met Timothy Leary right before he died. 
JH: Yeah... well I guess he was pretty sick. We went to his house to watch the 
Super Bowl with him. 
PSF: Are you guys big football fans? 
JH: Oh fuck yeah, Raiders, all the way. 
PSF: They're good this year. 
JH: They're excellent this year. They got some straightening out to do but... 
hey, didn't you see our promo for Veterans of Disorder. It's got different 
artwork than the regular CD. Its the Raiders logo with Neil's head in a helmet 
and my head in a helmet next to each other. 
PSF: OK, enough football. Let's get back to the Timothy Leary story. 
JH: OK, so went there and he had to take naps every 20 minutes. He would come 
out and start spinning tales. The simplest of stories would suddenly turn into 
psychedelic events. And after that he would go back into the bedroom and take a 
nap with the door open. He would be just be crashed out snoring and then 20 
minutes later he would be back up. 
PSF: What kind of people were hanging out? 
JH: Robert Williams, the cartoonist, was there. His son was there. There was a 
woman there with her kid and her story was she was married to some rich, 
Hollywood guy. She contracted AIDS and he threw her out so she thought she would 

go to Timothy Leary and live there with her kid. She gave me the whole story. 
And there was this Hollywood soap opera, actor-type guy who was real weird. We 
were all sitting there watching the commercials and one came on for Revlon or 
something where Cindy Crawford appeared. He says, "yeah man, I should've banged 
her last week when I was with her." Everybody was like. "yeah...right." 
PSF: Did Leary give you any type of advice? 
JH: Yeah... we talked. He had just been up in Canada doing a reading and we had 
played the night before and he came back cause he wanted to come to the show. 
But he didn't get back till one in the morning and couldn't make the show. We 
started talking about our music. 
PSF: So he knew your music then? 
JH: Yeah and he was really into it. He didn't really give me any advice. There 
was a vibe... a major vibe though. 
PSF: Well let's move on to the basic interview stuff. How did you and Neil meet?
JH: Neil and I met in my senior year in high school. He was playing in a band 
and I went to go see it. I think it was their first show. 
PSF: This was in DC? 
JH: Yeah he had just moved into DC. And I'd never seen him or met him. So I went 

to go see this band play. I had been to lots of shows. My dad started dropping 
me off at shows when I was 13. He would do the very parental thing. All the 
hardcore show were for all ages so I got to see lots and lots of music. But I'd 
never seen anything like Neil. It was the way he played his guitar and the way 
he sang- I'd never seen anything like it. 
PSF: Was it his band? 
JH: It was his band. Although one of the guys from Government Issue was in the 
band, it was Neil's band because he wrote all the songs and stuff. I just 
remember being very blown away by them. Neil was; even more so then, kinda quiet 

and cagey. And I was very young so I didn't know how to approach a stranger 
without being a complete idiot. 
PSF: What was your first line to him? 
JH: There wasn't. I just kinda put myself in a position. I knew they were going 
to this party down the street and I knew this girl at the club who was really 
good friends with the person who was having the party so I started talking to 
her and said, "I'm coming with you." I went there so I could just watch him. 
PSF: So you obviously had this amazing crush on Neil immediately? 
JH: Yeah... oh yeah. It was like boom... instant. It was just that quick. And 
then it was a series of maneuverings so I could be at the right place at the 
right time so I could just watch him interact. And he would talk to me but he 
was just a real fucking freak. He was so contrary to everybody and very 
unpredictable. So I would keep a little distance at first. I guess it was like 
months later and he was living in a warehouse with this old man. One night, 
people followed Neil back to this warehouse because he had a sheet of acid. The 
old man who lived there drank Colt 45 and he had been tripping for days. When we 

got there half the room was lined with these bottles filled with piss. 
Immediately it was a fascinating situation; one to be looked into further. 
So I had gone there for the purpose of seeing Neil but also to do the acid. I 
ended up staying there for three days tripping my ass off. And Neil was tripping 

his ass off so that was the ice-breaker. He slept on a wooden board with a 
sleeping bag on it. And me and Neil and my friend Holly ending up sitting on the 

board and it became a ship. It became a boat. So we could not get off the board 
or we would drown. Neil suddenly turned into Huey P. Long and he was fucking 
commandeering the board. We stayed on that board for like a day and a half. And 
we've been together ever since. 
PSF: You guys have a great love story. Has anyone ever told you that? 
JH: Yeah, and I'm glad that they do because it's all I know now. And I never 
want to take it for granted but it seems like this is the way it should always 
be for everybody. That's just the way it is. 
PSF: Neil was in Pussy Galore prior to Royal Trux. Is that right? 
JH: No. I finished up high school and he was my boyfriend. Then we moved into an 

old carriage house together for a year. I had gotten into the New School for 
Social Research in New York and I didn't want to go to school at all. So we just 

hung out for a year doing a lot of acid. 
I guess Pussy Galore began when Julie (Cafritz) and Jon (Spencer) graduated from 

Brown University. They came back to DC because that's where Julie's from. They 
played a couple of shows and they had a guitar player who they didn't like. 
They'd been asking around town about different guitar players and they kept 
getting recommended Neil. So they called Neil and asked him if he wanted to play 

and he said yeah because he didn't have a job. At the time I was working a 
fucking kite store, if you can imagine. But it was really easy cause not many 
people buy kites so you just kinda hang for $4.00 an hour. Obviously we didn't 
have much money; well... we didn't have any money but Julie and Jon had a lot of 

money so Neil negotiated some cash up front. Then they decided they wanted to 
move to New York and they wanted Neil to go. I moved up about a month later for 
school and we got a room at the YMCA together. That's how they started playing 
together. 
But the whole year we lived at the carriage house in DC when we were doing a lot 

of acid and stuff, Neil and I got a couple of radio shows at Maryland 
University. It was never said that it was Royal Trux. It was just me and Neil. 
But it was some of the earliest songs we wrote as Royal Trux. We were doing that 

for a whole year when Pussy Galore called. We had songs written and we gave a 
couple of them to the band. There's a couple of Royal Trux songs on the album. 
PSF: So Royal Trux was a side thing and Neil was making money off Pussy Galore. 
JH: No... Royal Trux was his "thing." He considered Pussy Galore his National 
Service. 
PSF: One last thing about Pussy Galore. Do you guys listen to any of Jon 
Spencer's stuff these days? 
JH: No, not at all. 
PSF: Was there any animosity with the break-up? 
JH: I don't think that Neil and Jon had anything in common to begin with. At a 
certain point and time we lived with Jon and his wife for like a year. And we 
are very, very different. Jon's totally straight-edge and very controlling. 
They're just the antithesis of what we were. So we were never tight to begin 
with. Jon would come to Royal Trux shows for a long time but I just never could 
get into his whole Blues Explosion thing at all. 
PSF: So you don't have any contact with Spencer at all. 
JH: Not at all. Neil just gets checks. Spencer really works the whole system. I 
mean he puts something out and immediately cuts it off so that it becomes rare 
and then it has to be reissued later. It's prolific but its also redundant. 
That's how he keeps the whole thing going. 
PSF: So who were your early influences musically? 
JH: As far as actively pursuing music, I guess it was in 6th or 7th grade. I 
grew up in southeast DC and I went to school there. I was definitely a minority 
being white so it was mostly like Parliament, Funkadelic, Chic, Rick James, Mary 

Jane Girls. It was just a lot of funk and disco stuff. I listened to a lot of 
that. 
But when I went into 9th grade all the people there were pretty much stoners. 
They listened and Zeppelin and the Dead. But I made a friend early on in 8th 
grade who lived uptown and she went to a big public school up there and she was 
good friends with the guys in Scream and Void, the Discord bands. So I started 
going to watch them play and I started seeing more and more shows like that. 
Then when I went over to 9th grade all the seniors would have parties on the 
weekends where all the best weed and acid was, so I would be there all night 
long listening to the Dead and Led Zeppelin. Me and my best friend would also 
being going down to see Flipper and Scream. And all my old friends from grade 
school were into Bootsy and The Rubber Band. So I liked all of it. 
PSF: How about writers? Who influenced you? 
JH: My favorite writer in the whole world is Joan Didion. She's married to 
Dominic Dunn and she writes a lot now for the New Yorker. She wrote The White 
Album which is probably one of my favorite books. The way she writes is like 
there's no waiting period between her thoughts and the paper. I'm sure she does 
some editing, but the way it comes out is really great. 
PSF: There's a movie out now called The Sourcee. Its a very good documentary 
about the Beat Generation. You guys seem to have a lot of Beat in your approach 
to music. Did you read any of those writers? 
JH: Yeah I definitely went through the Kerouac thing and William Burroughs. And 
with Burroughs it was like I read the books and then I never read it again, but 
I couldn't even remember it. Still it meant something. It stood for something in 

my head and I remember just looking at the words and what they actually meant. 
PSF: So you guys signed with a major label in the mid-'90's. How did signing 
with Virgin Records come about? 
JH: We were with Drag City for our first few records. At some point our booking 
agent started getting calls from major labels. Virgin was one of them and they 
were actually the most tactful and tasteful. They weren't really pushing 
everything but they let it be known on many occasions that if we were ever 
interested they would like to talk with us. We went to Virgin and walked in and 
within 30 minutes they let it be known that they had to have us. And it was that 

genuine. So when we decided to come to the terms of the contract, once Neil and 
I decided what it was we were gonna ask for and what it was we had to have to 
make any kind of move like that. We knew we could go all the way because we just 

had that feeling that they were gonna do it. And they did. 
PSF: The first record for Virgin was Thank You which is my personal favorite 
Royal Trux record. 
JH: Yeah... Thank You has a certain kind of energy to it. It's funny because 
it's such a studio album in its cleanness but it is not a studio album at all, 
it's a live album. It was recorded as a live album. I was mic'd up through a PA 
and we played on a stage. It's a live album. 
PSF: So how long did it take you to record it? 
JH: One day. We did three months of preproduction and rehearsal. And David 
Briggs (producer) just hung out and slept on the floor at our house for a month 
and we just did it. 
PSF: How did working with David Briggs influence the music? 
JH: David influenced it by making it such a fucking great experience. Making it 
such an exciting way to work. He didn't do anything physically; he didn't 
engineer and he didn't want to change us in any way, so basically he was there 
as a father figure or a cheerleader. I came to call him a "vibologist." It was 
really quite amazing. And he was an amazing person. And his death happened so 
quick. 
PSF: Do you ever think about bringing in somebody else to produce? Is there 
anybody you want to work with? 
JH: I don't know...there are tons of producers it would be interesting to be 
around. But 50 percent of my enjoyment in making records is just fucking around 
in the studio. Just finding things. And you give up a lot with another producer. 

Hence, I love producing. Its a cerebral thing. 
PSF: You and Neil have produced under the pseudonym of "Adam & Eve." Who have 
you produced for? 
JH: Palace Brothers, The Make-up, Brother JT, Edith Frost. 
PSF: After the release of Sweet 16 you guys left Virgin. What happened? 
JH: It started basically when David died. Virgin started scrambling to sell us 
on another producer. And that's when the shit started. 
PSF: So they didn't want you to produce your own records. 
JH: Oh no. And they certainly didn't want us to buy and build a studio. That was 

very against their rules. We had that same manager from LA at that time and he 
was the liaison between our desires and the labels'. He was really on our side 
but it was his job to carry the party line for the label. Then there came a time 

when there was nothing more to talk about. So we fired the manager and did it 
ourselves. We hired a business manager who was just our accountant basically and 

we had them call up the record company and say "cut the checks." 
PSF: So you had total autonomy over everything. 
JH: Total. 
PSF: That's pretty ballsy. 
JH: Yeah... we figured what the fuck? They had no choice. They sent us the 
checks and we built the studio. We didn't talk to them at all during the whole 
production of Sweet 16. 
PSF: At that time did you tell the record company about the concept behind your 
work on the Trilogy. 
JH: No, that was completely beyond them. We came to them with all sorts of 
marketing angles, "Exploit this or do that..." But they just didn't get it. 
There was this college rock thing going on and we're "townie rock." We're there 
for the "townies." They definitely were functioning on an elitist level where 
they wanted to have mass recognition for us. At the same time they wanted to 
hold us in some precious way so that their investment was not devalued. 
PSF: What was the concept behind the Trilogy? From reading about it I think 
people get the idea that with Thank You you were trying to make a record that 
sounded like the 60s, or on Sweet 16 the 70s, with Accelerator the 80's... 
JH: By no means are those records tributes to specific decades. If you hear the 
records you immediately know they're not tribute albums. It was fun to take the 
production techniques of that time and the equipment we chose, and the 
instrumentation we used. It was not trying to recreate something in a new way. 
It was more a function of taking what we liked about certain things. 
PSF: Are you happy with what came out on the major label? 
JH: Yeah. It's funny man. We make records and then after we're done with them I 
don't listen to them for awhile. Then when we do the master; generally you have 
to get things mixed 3 or 4 times to get it right, after that its very 
infrequently that I listen to anything of ours. 
The only record that I can say that's not the truth about is Sweet 16. I still 
listen to that record a lot. I can't put my finger on what it is. I think its 
this kind of distance to it in my mind. 
PSF: Is Sweet 16 you favorite Trux record then? 
JH: Well I like them all. But Sweet 16 is like another band playing Royal Trux 
music. 
PSF: How did the new record, Veterans of Disorder differ from the past few Trux 
records? 
JH: It's not all that different really. There's a lot of Royal Trux influences 
in there. Its just a different cast of people. 
PSF: A lot of the songs on Veterans clock in at under three minutes. Was that 
conscious decision? 
JH: That just happened. On Sweet 16 no song was allowed to be under four 
minutes. That was the rule. On Veterans of Disorder there was no general rule 
like that. When the first few songs were written they just presented themselves 
that way. We weren't going to change how we wrote them. All these external 
variables come into play and define how the song ends up. 
PSF: Do you listen to any particular music while you make a record? 
JH: I don't listen to any music while we make a record. I listen to a lot of 
music before we make a record. 
PSF: Do you write your songs in the studio? 
JH: No, we write all the songs before we even go into our own studio. It has to 
have a special meaning. It's like people that work in their home find it 
difficult because its all one mind set. We're really cautious about going into 
the studio. It's in a different wing of the house and you have to go down a long 

hall to get to the studio. So we write all of our songs prior to plugging in the 

first guitar. As far as lyrically, we write it all out and then look it over and 

figure out what the instrumentation is gonna be on it. From there we decide who 
we want to play. We make all these decisions before we go into the studio 
because once you're in there's so much that can be done you start second 
guessing your initial thoughts and game plan. I can go all over the map because 
its fun. But we like to come up with a plan and stick to it. Stay focused. 
PSF: The new record seems to come across very playful. 
JH: Yeah... Like when I wrote "Waterpark" it was literally a day after I'd been 
to the waterpark for three days in a row. 
PSF: Do you read reviews? 
JH: Neil doesn't read reviews. I do, but I shouldn't. 
PSF: How have the reviews been for Veterans of Disorder? 
JH: All the ones that I've read have been positive. I know there was one that 
our press agent told me about. She said it was negative and when she read it to 
me I thought that if I had read that review I would want the record because it 
chastised us for playing serious solos and guitar rock in the modern age of 
Electronica. Oh, fuck! I'd buy that record. 
PSF: How's the tour going so far? 
JH: It's been fucking great. 
PSF: What are some of your favorite places to play? 
JH: San Francisco and Italy are my favorite places to play. 
PSF: Yeah, I heard you did a tour of Europe recently and also a tour of Japan. 
What kind of reaction did you get in Japan? 
JH: Japanese fans are outta their minds. We've been selling records over there 
for a really long time but we never go. Finally last year I went over. Neil 
wouldn't go but I went. We just got a guitar player to play his lines. They 
could care less. 
PSF: Neil didn't go? 
JH: No.... we played the Redding Festival without him too. He doesn't fly. But 
in like Tokyo people didn't care. The audience was flinging themselves onto the 
stage; crying and screaming. It was like I was taken back in time. I kept 
thinking "Now what do they expect?" 
PSF: What's the worst place for you to play? 
JH: I hate Cleveland. I really fucking hate Cleveland. 
PSF: How can that be? That's where they put the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame. 
JH: The Rock 'n' Roll Hall of fame is nothing. Its a piece of shit. Neil was 
just telling me that somebody.... Roger Waters refused induction. It's like a 
theme park. 
PSF: As far as musicians, you tend to go through a lot when touring or 
recording. Is that just basic Royal Trux philosophy? 
JH: Yeah, it is in a way. We try and change around the variables. Because that's 

what influences us on a day to day basis. "What's going on in the world?, What's 

going on in the news?" So the more we can change up the variables and tap into 
that... it just kinda keeps you inspired. To this day I've never had writer's 
block or inspiration block. There's too much to write about. 
PSF: Yeah, the Trux are very prolific. 
JH: We do a lot. But we edit ourselves a little bit because we don't want to put 

any little topic that comes to our mind like the Holy Grail or whatever. We try 
and put a reign on that. 
PSF: How do you split the writing chores? 
JH: Its like there's certain songs where we both bring stuff to the table; 
lyrically, and we go over it. And then there are other songs where it is such a 
simple thought that one of us comes up with. Like "Waterpark," I just wrote that 

song. It was not a thing where you go over and think about it. I brought it to 
Neil and he was like, "well, its done." He just came up with a riff. So we wrote 

it together and its that kinda thing. There's no real one way for any song. 
PSF: Have you ever done any soundtrack work? 
JH: We were just shot in the new John Cusak film. "Waterpark" was used. So we'll 

see if it makes the final cut. We were also in JERRY MCGUIRE but we didn't make 
the final cut. We were on TV in Cuba Gooding Jr's hotel room when he was 
watching TV in a scene. But they didn't use it. 
PSF: Are you interested in doing soundtrack work in the future? 
JH: Oh yeah, if its a project we're interested in. Totally... 
PSF: Has anybody ever done a documentary on you? 
JH: No... people have talked about it with much enthusiasm but they're not 
professional filmmakers. They have the desire, and they want to but they don't 
have the means. So to date nothing has been done. 
PSF: Would you be interested in someone doing a documentary on the Trux? 
JH: Yeah, at some point. If somebody had an idea or vision as to how they really 

wanted it. All that kinda shit, like rock bio's... unless there's something of 
substance going on... unless there's a career involved I'm just not for it. A 
lot of bands, like Debbie Gibson's rock bio, there's no career... there's 
nothing there. It like one of those things that if it happens for us, it 
happens. Actually this past tour for five days in Ohio this writer from Atlanta 
drove up and followed us. And that's what he's interested in. He's going to 
write about touring with us and he's actually a pretty good writer. 
PSF: Do you ever do music videos? 
JH: We did one for "You're Gonna Lose" off of Thank You. 
PSF: With just the one video you obviously don't really do it then. 
JH: No, we just make movies. We did Live At Gettysburg and we made a movie 
called WHAT IS ROYAL TRUX? and we've got another we've been working on. 
PSF: Why don't you print your lyrics? 
JH: Well, on Sweet 16 we printed them. Because in our minds they just needed to 
be printed. It was part of the whole idea of the album being a little bit more 
complex so therefore it should be presented in that way. 
PSF: Is there a reason why you don't normally do it? 
JH: I think that it if you listen to it... I know when I was a kid when I 
listened to a song, I'm hearing it and it does something to me. Whereas when I 
got something that had lyrics, I would read the lyrics and instantly it would 
tell me how to hear the song without even hearing the music. A lot of times 
lyrics are written in the context of the music. An extreme example, if something 

is really, really goofy and its supposed to be a comment on something; and we 
haven't really done that, you don't get the full picture. You just read a few 
words. 
PSF: Yeah, cause half the fun of a good rock song is figuring out the words and 
coming up with these absurd lyrics on your own that are nothing close to the 
songwriters. 
JH: Yeah, well if you ever want any of our lyrics all the Japanese imports have 
them, because they have to have them. They can't function without them. And a 
lot of them are wrong. We let them transcribe the songs so they're nuts. 
PSF: How'd you end up doing the Calvin Klein ad? 
JH: Steven Mizell, the photographer, requested me because we were on the cover 
of a rock magazine and he saw the picture and wanted to hire me. 
PSF: Did you make a lot of money from it? 
JH: Yeah, I did. I could use another job like that. Well, I mean... I don't need 

one but it got me free health insurance. I've had free health insurance ever 
since through the Screen Actors Guild. 
PSF: Most people at the start of the decade probably thought Royal Trux wouldn't 

make it this far. And with the way things are going now you're really on the 
rise. What do you attribute your longevity to. 
JH: I think it's just time. I know this year a lot of people are starting to 
recognize that Sweet 16 is a viable album in the "land of Indie-bullshit stuff." 

Like the elitist are into it six years after the fact. And I don't fault anybody 

because I am more than happy for somebody to get into it even twenty years after 

the fact. As long as it does something for somebody at some point and time. I 
think there are a lot of cynical people and a lot of competition and we just 
can't abide by that. We can feed into it. It takes too much energy. Rejection of 

that process that all bands are supposed to go through. 
PSF: It seems like your music with each record becomes more accessible. Do you 
think its the Trux that are changing or that musical trends and audience taste 
are finally catching up with what you're doing? 
JH: It's a little bit of both. Its definitely people tastes have changed because 

we're always gonna be Royal Trux. Maybe in a couple of years we'll be the most 
hated band in the world. But we'll still be there in five years when it all come 

back around. As we all know its just gonna be that way. But we now have the 
means by having our own studio and an unlimited amount of time; we have the 
means to explore all forms of production styles. We're always curious about just 

"doing" and going through the process. And a lot of those things are radio 
friendly things because that's what we grew-up with. Just to check it out. Like 
how do you do this. I really shouldn't say "radio friendly"; just more simply 
structured stuff. 
PSF: What's on the horizon for the Trux? 
JH: We just finished our last new album. We have another one already in the can 
and its called Pound for Pound. And its ahhh... I don't know. I don't know what 
to tell you. I don't know what to say about it... 


Interview with Jennifer Herrema
by Andrew Bottomley
Skyscraper 8
Fall 2000

The history of Royal Trux ia a long and colorful one, with lots of twists and 
turns and ups and downs and slight mysteries tucked in between , but what it all 

leads down to is that they are still, to this very day, one of America's only 
truly great rock'n'roll bands. Lurking in the shadows of the mainstream, Trux 
co-conspirators Jennifer Herrema and Neil Hagerty have carefully (but certainly 
not quiety) toiled at resurrecting the artform of rock'n'roll, all the while 
re-inventing it. From the damaged avant-noise of their earliest work to the 
raunchy boogie they've perfected and continuously altered for the better part of 

the past decade, the rock-god pair have crafted some of the purest, most 
inspired (and thusly inspiring) rock music found anywhere, above or below the 
underground. 
Herrema and Hagerty's dysfunctional, bad ass sleaze image has both defined them 
as the distinctively individualistic misfits that they are and pigeonholed them 
as the junkie low-life's they aren't. The drugs have long ceased to be a factor 
in their lives and the couple is, in actuality, far more realized and determined 

musicians than most. They've knocked out two drastically different albums (the 
infectiously catchy, though none the less gritty and psychedelic, Veterans Of 
Disorder and the Seventies blues-rock heavy Pound For Pound) and an EP (Radio 
Video) in just over a year, and show no signs of letting up soon. The following 
interview with Jennifer occurred on May 24, 2000, amidst a brief lull from a 
mess of touring and traveling for the release of Pound For Pound. 
AB: How do you feel you've developed within the context of Royal Trux? During 
the eleven or so years you've been playing, you've gone through a number of 
changes in both sound and form. 
JH: Yeah, yeah. But, see, that's the key there, is the context of Royal Trux is 
kind of a never-ending, always widening gap; the context is huge, it is what we 
make it. It's whatever we decide it is for something in particular. Like, this 
morning, I got an email from Lenny Wanonker and Robbie Robertson because we just 

finished a record for Dreamworks, we produced one of their pop bands (like 
mega-pop, all girl pop). So, then you take the context: okay, you're talking 
major label, you're talking pop music ("pop music" meaning popular, "popular" 
meaning hits)... so there goes your context. You work within that. ..and we did 
our job well. In Royal Trux, man, the set of variables that we can work within 
are infinite, and always have been. 
AB: You have always maintained that sort of experimental spirit, and totally 
independent spirit. It seems like you do pretty much whatever... 
JH: Yeah, it's an independent spirit. 
AB: Just being yourselves regardless, is what I mean. 
JH: I'm not beholding anybody. That's one of the greatest things in my life, I 
couldn't ask for anything more. 
AB: Because your and Neil's relationship is so unique, is it almost like being a 

solo artist, in a way? Even though it's a band, it's in some ways not? You can 
pretty much do anything you want, in the way that a solo artist can do anything 
they want, and not be dragged down or compromised by others? 
JH: Yeah, it's not a democracy, there's no democracy. The band that we have now 
(and that we've had for a little while), we've been encouraging them more and 
more to try and get involved because they're very creative people. Ultimately, 
we have the final say but it would be great and, I think, very healthy for them 
to punch out a bit. So, we've been trying to encourage that a lot, and it 
remains to be seen. They're great at what they do and they're great within the 
context of Royal Trux as it is right now (and the last year and the year 
before). Hopefully they'll be able to bring something to the table and broaden 
that context for next time around. 
AB: Are you hoping to try and create a Royal Trux lineup outside of Neil and 
yourself, then? 
JH: Yeah. I mean, as far as writing, I'm never going to sing... if the bass 
player writes a song with some kind of lyrics, I'm just not going to sing it. 
It's a fine line to walk, it's never going to be a democracy but, at the same 
time, we want involvement and we want... 
AB: More than just hired hands? 
JH: More than just hired hands. And we want them to be respected more than just 
hired hands because they're accomplished musicians; they're pretty much capable 
of just about anything and I think it's important that that's recognized, as 
well. So, that's kind of where we stand with this band, is that this band stays 
into the far future, until such time where it just tells itself it can't happen. 

The vibe, the whole circumstance surrounding it, says 'Hey...' 
AB: They came into play around Thank You and that's where one notable shift with 

the music happened - things got a little more structured, as opposed to the 
earlier records which had a tendency to be a little noisier or harsher. 
JH: Yeah, that was me and Neil. Like, Cats And Dogs we had two other musicians 
but... we had never met them. 
AB: So, that's just coincidental then, that those changes happened when more of 
a full band came together? 
JH: We were just, like, rolling the dice, you know? Like, 'Yeah, let's see what 
happens.' This drummer, I saw him play in Kansas, saw him for ten minutes, 
seemed okay, I'll give him a call... roll the dice and see what happens (this is 

during Cats And Dogs). You know, just kind of leaving it all up to fate; and 
that's the kind of shit that was going on. And then, come time for Thank You, we 

had very direct ideas about what we wanted to do for that particular record and 
it entailed particular types of musicians: very versatile and consequenty 
professional. Dan Brown, the bass player, had always been a huge fan and Chris 
Pile had always been a fan, his father had always been a fan. [Chris] grew up in 

rock'n'roll, touring with Skynard, but like most kids they always go off and try 

to do something the opposite of their parents; he got more into world beats and 
Latin rhythms and such, so he had all that at his disposal but he has a 
rock'n'roll heart. So, it was a pretty good mix. And then Kenny Nasta came in 
because he was Chris' best friend (but fell in love and had to take a hiatus 
over to India with his one-time girlfriend, but he's back). 
AB: Are there distinct stages of the group, in your mind? 
JH: Distinct stages? Not stages, I'd say feelings. Like, I get these different 
feelings from different time periods. It's hard to put a finger on but... 
there's only a couple of our records that I can listen to now where I'm actually 

listening to the music, the rest is all just like a feeling around the music and 

around the time. So, it's the less personal albums that are the ones that can 
stand anywhere, are the ones that are much easier to listen to, because I don't 
think so much about the external circumstances surrounding the making of the 
records and the writing of the songs. 
AB: Which would those be? 
JH: My favorite, up until now, is Sweet Sixteen. But now my favorite's Pound For 

Pound. I mean, that's right now. 
AB: It probably has to be. Your new record should have to be your favorite. 
JH: Yeah. When Accelerator came out that was my favorite and when Veterans came 
out that was my favorite. But, somehow, the sound of Sweet Sixteen is so far 
removed that I can listen to it over and over and just love it for what it is. 
AB: That's somewhat funny because that record was, at least critically, probably 

the least liked of all your albums. 
JH: Yeah, yeah, I know. You know, it's just like with Twin Infinitives, people 
are coming around now. I was just in Italy and, all of a sudden, Sweet Sixteen 
is now a rare record -hard to find, desirable. It's predictable, that kind of 
shit happens; over time, over repeated listens, there's something to be found. 
AB: Well, how do you look back on an album like Twin Infinitives, which has 
since garnered all this praise, as far as avant-rock albums go? 
JH: I mean, Twin Infinitives, I think it's a great record but I can't think of 
it in terms of the way it's written about because there is so much there that's 
left open for interpretation, which consequently gets written about, that some 
was intentional, some wasn't intentional [laughs]. Neil and I were of very 
different minds during the making of that record, so I think that definitely 
made for it's sound. You know, I truly believed that we were making Blue Oyster 
Cult for the year 3000 record and he thought something else entirely. So, we 
definitely had to rock into something else. 
AB: Do you think it came together all right, though? 
JH: Oh yeah, yeah. That thing took, like, six months, I can't even tell you how 
many times we listened to it. 
AB: But did you end up on the same page about it, once it was done? 
JH: Once it was done. Once it was done was when we both loved it. I don't think 
we ever agreed on what it was supposed to mean, if anything at all; in my mind 
there were different signifiers surrounding that record than in Neil's mind, I 
believe. But at the very end, when we knew it was done, we both loved it and, 
so, that's all that really mattered. 
AB: Do you feel you were successful with the trilogy of Thank You, Sweet 
Sixteen, and Accelerator? At least in the concept that they represented music of 

the Sixties, Seventies, and Eighties... essaying the history of rock or 
whatever? 
JH: Yeah, yeah, you know, it's kind of... 
AB: It's kind of a lofty idea to begin with. 
JH: It was and it is, but it's also like a sub-plot. It's a sub-plot, it's not 
the overriding theme of what those records were [saying]. 
AB: Right. It wasn't necessarily a defining idea. 
JH: Right, right. It was, kind of like I was talking about before, context - 
reigning yourself in, giving yourself rules to follow and limitations. Those 
three records, the limitations and the defining outlines were dictated by those 
decades of music to a certain extent, as far as production values and 
instrumentation and the way they were recorded and such, but, yeah, it was 
definitely a sub-plot. It was an idea all along, because with every record we 
always have to find... there's an infinite amount of things, it could go on 
forever. I could make a record today and maybe not ever finish. 
AB: You kind of have to pick your plot of land. 
JH: Yeah, exactly. You pick your plot of land and you sow your seeds, you look 
at the garden, you check out the picture, the picture's the way you like it, 
you're done. 
AB: You had a three record contract with Virgin, so was that sort of a wide-eyed 

way of covering that contract? 
JH: It was a way of making three different records, which we would always make 
anyway -we would never make the same one, right? So, in speaking of the 
long-term plan for those three records, that was the idea that we came up with. 
It was by no means a "conceptual" thing and meant to override the actual songs 
or anything. It was set in place before any feedback could come our way, in any 
way, because we knew that's how we wanted to go. The one and only time we had a 
producer, during Thank You, we spent a lot of time with him - he was out here at 

our house for a long time doing pre-production, staying here - and we talked all 

about it. It was... lengthy. But, when he died, we just decided we were moving 
forward with this. 
AB: Well, you have said that Veterans Of Disorder was somewhat a collection of 
singles rather than an actual album (at least, I guess, in comparison to that 
trilogy of albums that preceded it). 
JH: I don't know if Neil did any press on Veterans (he's getting to be a pain 
about that) but that's what I kind of thought about it. It was like all these 
different songs that came from different places and that required their own 
special space and their own special production values. So, when I think about 
it, I think about it as a song-by-song record, as opposed to a running LP like 
Pound For Pound or, maybe, Accelerator. I mean, I never have any qualms about 
busting up records - you know, "greatest hits." I don't consider things, 'Oh, 
it's a work of art, it must be maintained in it's entirety,' blah, blah, blah. 
But Pound For Pound and Accelerator kind of sound that way, 'cause that's the 
way we proceeded. But we did not proceed that way with Veterans. 
AB: Were you setting out, when you were making Pound For Pound, to make more of 
a full album again? 
JH: Well, Pound For Pound, man, that was just, like, truly the extension of the 
last song on Veterans. 
AB: Right, that's exactly what I was going to say, because it sounds like "Blue 
Is The Frequency" drawn out to album's length. 
JH: That was a touring band that we had for just a little while (Pajo and John 
Theodore), and we toured a lot. The day after the tour, we went into the studio; 

we had written this song, we taught it to them, and we just laid it down and 
that was that. Then we toured with Kenny, Chris, Dan, Neil, and myself. We all 
toured for a long time after that and the live shows were so fucking energizing 
to us and we were so into it. The idea for Pound For Pound was to actually go in 

and lay down something that was somewhat representative of what our live show is 

about - kind of the immediacy of it, not the density of some of the other 
records. It's mainly supposed to be representative of our live vibe but it's not 

a live album. It was done in four days, the day after the tour ended, so it 
still had that whole tour thing going around. 
AB; Well, what's the motivation for the band now? Is it any different than five 
or ten years ago? 
JH: Nah. I mean, it's never been a means to an end. There's always something to 
do. Every time I finish something I'm, like, 'Oh, God, I should have done this 
and I want to do this,' and so then, therefore, it opens up another chapter to 
start working on. I mean, it's really all I know, it's what I've been doing 
since I was seventeen, this is it. Every aspect of it: like yesterday, I kicked 
ass getting all the artwork together for ads for magazines because I'd just been 

in Italy and France and hadn't had time. Sometimes I work really good under 
pressure like that and it's exciting, sometimes I'm just like 'Oh my God, fuck 
it, I'm staying in bed for a month.' It's intense and then it's time to rest... 
but it just kind of doesn't end. 
AB: Did you get much out of that major label experience? Obviously, you got the 
money. It tends to defeat morale for a lot of people who lose contracts and 
things like that, but you sort of did the opposite and came out on top. 
JH: We made our own bed, and it was a nice cushy bed. There were definitely 
labels that wanted to sign us and we knew exactly what we wanted... and we asked 

for it, and we got it, and it was amazing. We could have had Virgin put the 
third album out but we didn't want them to and, our contract being just that 
great and our lawyer at the time being just that great, they had to pay us for 
that record anyway. The term with Virgin was going to be up then anyway - they 
had no options after three albums - so we would have definitely left anyway. So, 

it was kind of just a play on trying to get them to believe that it was probably 

not in their best interest to put out the third record because they have to pay 
for it and, not only that, they would have to support it by the binding terms of 

the contract (and we mean tour support, advertising, et cetera, which adds up to 

even more money). So, the easiest way to go, considering they weren't allowed to 

hear demos, was to just give us the money. And then, in my mind, that was the 
perfect scenario; ultimately, it was a great experience. I mean, there was all 
sorts of stuff we got to check out and figure out and see. It was cool. It's so 
funny, though, the way people think within that world... like the e-mail I got 
this morning from Dreamworks (from Robbie Robertson and Lenny Wanonker), it's 
like "You guys did a phenomenal job, you should be very proud of yourselves, you 

can now walk down Hollywood Boulevard and hold your head up high." I was like 
'Oh my fucking God, OH MY FUCK- ING GOD!' I was like 'Yeah... and before that?' 
That's some funny shit. They're old school, whatever. It's like the SODS, the 
Society Of Distinguished Songwriters, the Freemasons of pop. It's like in the 
UK, the collective of power between the songwriters, you know: Chapman/Chin, 
Cook/Greenway, Martin/Culture, all that. That power was undeniable, they made 
things hap- pen or they made things not happen. It's along the lines of the 
Tri-lateral Commission. 
AB: What has that money and security (owning a home and a studio) freed you up 
to do? It's sort of like you're living an outsider's American dream: you live 
comfortably as non-conformists, completely able to do whatever you want. 
JH: I definitely feel secure. We've been doing this a long time. Shit, so many 
things have gone on since, like, the end of 1998. You never know what's going to 

happen, but I know I've got land, I know I've got a house, I know I've got no 
mortgage, I know I've got a studio. I owe nothing, no debt, and that feels 
pretty great. 
AB: And that's a pretty unique place to be in. 
JH: Yeah, I consider ourselves very fortunate. And so, therefore, I feel I want 
to give as much as I can, just having this time to do the things that we do and 
like to do... shit, got all the time to do what we want. 
AB: Do you think of the music you make as being somewhat difficult? Is it your 
intention to challenge rather than just entertain? 
JH: Not necessarily, in any way. Sometimes it's music that's more of a challenge 

to us and sometimes it's music that might be more of a challenge to the 
listener. I mean, when I wrote "Waterpark, " that was a fucking serious 
challenge. I went to the waterpark and then I went to the waterpark the next 
day, and then Neil's like, 'Have you written the waterpark song? " so I went 
back to the fucking waterpark and I wrote the waterpark song. And just the 
simplicity of it was one of the more challenging things for me. 
AB: That's really quite funny that you actually went to the waterpark as 
research for the song. 
JH: Well, I fucking love waterparks. 
AB: No doubt. I would have just figured that it was a tribute to that, or 
whatever. 
JH: My little sister was getting married and she was here from San Francisco, 
and my best friend was out from Vancouver, and it was hot as shit (as it always 
is in swamp land), so, man, we were hitting the waterpark. So, that's 
challenging to us and, then, I'm sure there's songs that are probably very 
challenging to listeners. But, ultimately, it's not all about instant 
gratification, because we've learned from personal experience that instant 
gratification can sometimes leave you pretty empty in the end. So, we try and 
challenge ourselves and challenge the listeners... but not in any 
confrontational way, just by maybe giving them something more than what they 
might expect. 
AB: Right. Were you, in the beginning, adopting that deconstructionalist idea 
that was, at least, pinned on you? Did you feel like you were taking that 
approach? 
JH: No. When we were, like, the first band to be called "lo-fi," I knew what 
that meant (I had to ask but then it made sense) and then I got defensive. Well, 

that's purely a matter of cash flow. But, the deconstructionalist thing, I've 
always thought of it as more of a constructionalist thing. I love all sorts of 
music, I'm not a fan of anyone type of thing, even music I hate influences me 
[laughs]. [After listening to something bad], that's in my head then. It's 
horrifying, I don't dig it, but it's there so it's going to come out. I don't 
know, all I know is that rock'n'roll is about raping and pillaging - taking from 

the past, taking from the present, putting it all together and constructing. 
However it makes most sense to people, that's all good and fine. I think that, 
sometimes, whatever tends to make more sense tends to bring people to the cash 
register [laughs]. I don't fucking know, there's so many ways of looking at it. 
AB: Do you feel like the whole junkie, sleaze culture thing has been overplayed, 

at this point? 
JH: Yeah... but certainly not by us. That was Virgin's nightmare, that we 
wouldn't go that route. 
AB: They wanted you to? 
JH: Well, yeah, look at the bands that are out there now... just total parody...
AB: I can imagine why they would. It'd just be funny if they had a meeting... 
JH: Oh, I'm sure they had a meeting. They have meetings all the time. 'I'm 
e-mailing across the room to the marketing director.' We got shit for it way 
earlier than any band that I know of. We took all the heat, we took all the 
shit, and then it became kind of glamorous and interesting. And when we got 
described as that we wanted no part of it, so the creeps came out into the 
limelight. Yeah, there's all sorts of marketing angles... and it's still there, 
it's still in our past. Actually, I'm much more willing to talk about it now 
just because it's, like, 'Whatever.' It just seems remote, it's like ingrained 
in my brain; the majority of my life was lived like that but I feel so far away 
from it now that it's easy to talk about. There are definitely a lot of people 
that got a lot of mileage out of abusing the voyeuristic interest in 
self-destruction. They got a lot of mileage out of it. 
AB: Well, did you ever subscribe to that cliched notion that rock'n'roll is 
about getting real fucked up and living life full out? 
JH: [laughs] No. I mean, here's just the thing: fucking, I'm a drug addict and 
an alcoholic, and I guess it runs in my family because so was my father and so 
was my grandfather. I've been drinking since I was twelve. When I first started 
drinking it wasn't because I wanted to be a great artist, I'm drinking because 
it gets me fucked up. And then move on to other drugs because it gets me fucked 
up. It was never any kind of creative tool, so to speak, it was just more the 
pastime best known to me. The cartoonish parodies of the whole "sex, drugs, and 
rock-'n'roll," it's amusing and it's all good because it's all entertainment 
but, at the end of the day, man, it's like so gone, so fast. Nothing remains and 

it's just all dust, and in the end we know who made who. 
AB: That whole tragic rock star, or excessive rock star, image is always 
fascinating but there's really no depth there... 
JH: No, no, and there's such a huge difference between, say, Jimi Hendrix or 
Janis Joplin and fucking Kurt Cobain - he's a fucking idiot, he fucking killed 
himself. Okay, so if you didn't want to be in the limelight, don't fucking make 
records. Okay, maybe you're troubled, whatever. I don't consider that a tragedy, 

I consider that just, basically, fear driven. And Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, 

it was unfortunate and those things happen, ODs and circumstances surrounding 
those things happen - they've happened to people I know - but it's by no means 
to get out. So, I think there's very different ways of looking at what's tragic 
and what's not, and how things need to be looked at in the big picture, because 
with everybody in the big picture (you know, politics, et cetera) history is the 

goal: Who will write history? How will people think of Clinton? How will people 
think of Nirvana? Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. It's just things to consider - 
the facts, as they truly are. I don't know, it's all cool, it's all amusing. 
There's a lot of really shitty glossy magazines coming out, more and more, but 
I'm glad that there are more and more magazines, in general, because then there 
are more and more writer's writing. Sure, you have people following the pack, as 

usual, but since there's so many more out there you do have more diverse views 
on the way things seem to different people... much more subjective allowance. I 
think that's real important. 
AB: How would you describe your and Neil's relationship, like the balance of 
playing together and being together? 
JH: Well, it kind of goes back to the whole "it's all I know" thing. I mean, I 
was in high school when I met Neil, and I had had one really serious boyfriend 
before that (much, much older than me) and he died. I kind of had this really 
weird hollow feeling -you know, like when somebody dies [laughs] - so I was just 

trying to fill the void by doing things that were positive, instead of just 
drinking and drinking and drinking. I started hanging out with his best friend 
and he, consequently, played in a band with Neil. He said, 'Oh, you should come 
see my band,' and I saw the band. Ever since I was twelve, my dad had taken me 
to shows, so by the time I was fourteen I had seen the Bad Brains, Minor Threat, 

Rush, Rolling Stones, the Kinks, Circle Jerks, Black Flag, Agent Orange, on and 
on and on. So, I'd heard and seen so much, and then I saw Neil and I was like 
'Maaaan, this guy is totally weird.' He was just different, it was a no brainer, 

and I was like 'I got to meet this guy.' So, to say the least, I continued to 
visit my dead boyfriend's friend a lot because Neil and he were roommates. Then 
the acid trip began: five days, we turned into the same molecule, we both were 
equal parts Huey P. Long sailing a boat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. That 
clenched the deal. 
AB: What's the most unique part of your musical relationship? Is it safe to say 
that the way you work with one another is something you could never have with 
anyone else? 
JH: I think that's pretty safe to say. Neil and I fight a lot, but we know how 
to fight. We fight, crazy fight, but it's never held over to the next activity. 
You know, we fight, we fight, and then it's time for him to go out and water his 
strawberries or something and it's all gone, it's all forgotten. So, being with 
Neil most of my conscious life... it's been pretty much all I know. And, out of 
the fighting, always something good comes; sometimes it's incredibly draining 
and hard but the results are always worth it. I really don't think there could 
be anybody I could work with like that because I've worked with so many 
different musicians and I've seen the way people react to different comments and 
input and it's just not understood. It's a very good situation. I think that 
music in general, right now, I feel kind of positive about. I feel somewhat 
vindicated because, you know, "rock" is coming back, metal is coming back, 
indie-fucks are actually recognizing the Grateful Dead for what they really are 
(and that is great). I used to take so much shit and I always felt 'Yeah, okay, 
it's worth it,' but I just didn't want to have to wait around. Like, I remember 
playing Lollapalooza (I don't know what year that was) and we were playing the 
second stage and all that the people were yelling at me was "Axl Rose," it was 
all about the way I looked or whatever. And I was all cool with that but, at the 
same time, I know that we're up here making music and somehow I am detracting 
from what they are hearing because they're seeing something that doesn't compute 
at this moment in time. So, it's all corning forward, and I hope it comes 
forward in a real genuine way. Right now, we've got the Spice Girls of rock 
(you've got your Nashville Pussy's and all that shit) but I think, in the end, 
genuinely, rock'n'roll will start having meaning again... like, actually great 
entertainment, good live shows, but also leaving you fulfilled at the end, not 
walking away saying 'Yeah, that was great' and the next day 'But I can't 
remember the songs or what that sounds like.' So, I'm hoping to have it both 
ways, although I know I've said you can't. 
AB: You don't play guitar anymore, so is your role in the songwriting process 
more that of just ideas, and directing them to Neil or the other people you're 
playing with? 
JH: If l play the guitar in my house, for God's sake, I don't let anybody else 
hear it. I write on the piano mosty, though, and I'm really good at air guitar. 
I come up with riffs on my air guitar and I'll be like "This goes 'deh joh joh 
joh deh dehh joh joh joh joh deh."' I'll go up to Neil and I'll play it for him 
on my air guitar and I'll make him bring out his and we'll transpose it into the 

real thing, and I'll write the lyrics around it or maybe the melody will dictate 

the riff I come up with. I pride myself in my riffs. And Neil is the guitar 
player of all guitar players, the soloist of soloists, the riff player of riff 
players... but, man, I do come up with some riffs [laughs]. I think it's only 
because I'm not a guitar player, so I don't think like a guitar player, I don't 
think about where this riff came from or how it got there; it's just going to 
come and, like rock'n'roll, it's allowed. Like Marvin Gaye, that song "Got To 
Give It Up," I was listening to that, it's like the eighteen minute live 
version, and [sings some of it] the whole thing, the "got to give it up" part, 
is like "Well, all right!" You know, Beck took it, he just took it. It's exact, 
that's it, there it is... but, whether that was conscious or not, it's allowed, 
it's rock'n'roll. As long as you acknowledge your influences, I'm cool with 
that. There are a lot of bands that won't acknowledge their influences, as if 
they were dropped out of the sky or lived in the skinner box their whole life, 
who are unwilling to give props. I had to stop playing guitar because I'd hear 
stuff in my head on the guitar and I'd go to play it and it just wasn't, 
sounding like what I was hearing in my head. And, there's enough fucking 
horrible guitar players in this fucking world that at least I will step forward 
and make the first move in eradicating bad guitar playing, and I think there's a 

lot of people that need to follow. But that's my contribution. 
AB: Is the balance of song ideas pretty even, though, when it gets down to it? 
JH: Oh yeah, definitely. It's all even. Sometimes I do a lot more of the writing 

and Neil does more of the arranging, sometimes the writing is literally like my 
half gets handed over to his half and gets elaborated upon and then I stare at 
the lyrics for hours, finding a melody that can accommodate the words that I've 
written. Once I've got the melody then usually the riff is there. It's 
definitely a wholly shared experience. 
AB: Do you concentrate a lot on the lyrics? JH: Fuck yeah, I go crazy over it. I 

love writing but I never want to be manipulative in the writing, so I always 
want to leave things open a little bit to interpretation but, at the same time, 
I want to kind of voice something - if not my view or politics, just that 
certain something. But, yeah, I spend a lot of time on lyrics. 
AB: Do you find that people don't pay a whole lot of attention to them, though? 
JH: Yeah, sadly so. But, you know, whatever... it is what it is. Maybe someday 
somebody will, but I do find that they're often overlooked, if not completely 
cast aside. I know, in some cases, they can't be understood but, really, they're 

all there, they're all understandable. The funny thing is that our Japanese 
label, it's a prerequisite to releasing Royal Trux records that they have the 
lyrics. So, the lyrics are all on the Japanese pressings but [laughing] 
sometimes they're interpreted really crazy and we don't tell them because it's 
kind of funny. 
AB: You don't actually give them the lyrics, they interpret them themselves? 
JH: They ask for them and then we're like 'Uh, yeah, we'll get 'em, we'll get 
'em,' and then we're like 'Why don't you just do them, just to see what comes 
up,' and, man, some crazy shit comes up.' And, then, the really psycho stuff we 
nail, we get it right, but we'll leave some funny shit in there. 
AB: You've never wanted to lay them down on paper yourself? 
JH: We did on Sweet Sixteen and... yeah, sometimes I'm compelled to just lay 
them out but, then, sometimes it's, like, maybe you'll have to listen to the 
song three times instead of one if you actually want to hear what we're saying - 

and maybe that's the motivating factor for not writing it down, I don't know. 
The lyrics are all around: I know there are some on our website, some on fan 
websites, a lot on Japanese stuff. [laughs] Maybe we'll, someday, make our 
little book of songs. 
AB: What has having the studio at home done for the music? Do you find 
yourselves putting an obsessive amount of music to tape or do you still try to 
control what you record? 
JH: No, no... the studio, it's like a whole separate wing of the house, you have 

to go down a long corridor and go through a glass door and then go into the 
studio. So, it's cool like that, you don't just go back and just sit there, 
'What to do now? " 'cause there's so much stuff back there you could wind up in 
some crazy place. Yeah, generally we go back there with an intention. Like, 
we're working on B-Sides for Europe (because Europe always has to have singles, 
that's their thing) and that I find is very cool because we can go back there 
and do that, it's not like we have to make all these fucking arrangements to go 
do B-Sides. And, when we're doing skeletons of songs to break down for the band, 

it's great to go back there and be able to [get demos] of chord changes and 
breaks and stuff like that, just like basic tools. And, you know, we've recorded 

a lot of our records there, too. 
AB: How is it different for you when you're recording/producing other people's 
records? 
JH: Totally different. It's kind of like when I was talking about that female 
pop band: you look around, you think, 'Who's the band? What are they about? What 

kind of songs do they write? What's their attitude. What's the vibe?,' and you 
talk to them and then you put it all in context and you work within that 
framework because it's never about making somebody something they're not. It's 
always about working within the framework of what they are but always trying to 
take it a step further, out of a realm that we find could potentially become 
detrimental (meaning stuck). So, we try to make sure people don't get stuck. 
AB: Why did you decide to act as producers for other artists when you've never 
used outside producers yourself, except for David Briggs with Thank You? 
JH: Well, because we've produced so many records and, so, we know what we're 
doing. There are a lot of bands out there that don't have a clue about how they 
want to proceed or how they produce their own record. So, a producer is in their 

best interest... it's a focusing and guiding factor, that's pretty much it. I 
think a lot of bands need producers and I think a lot of bands benefit greatly 
from producers. And there's a million and one producers I'd love to work with, 
too, but when you're working with a producer it's a different environment; 
you've got a new member of the band and it's a whole different story. That's the 

way it was with David. We knew a lot about production but he taught us even more 

about inter-personal relationships of producing - communication and being part 
of but not overpowering, but in the end getting what you know you need to get 
out of the artist. 
AB: Well, do you have much of a plan for Royal Trux in the future? 
JH: Oh yeah. We're making a movie and we've already got the screenplay, so we're 

getting Drag City to buy us a digital video camera. It'll be a full-length 
feature, granted no Hollywood budget or anything. But it's got plots and 
sub-plots and sub-sub-plots and it's going to be cast. It'll take awhile. 
There's this band, Appendix Out, that we've been supposed to be producing for so 

long but we just haven't had the time, so we're going to find the time to do 
that. And maybe the next Silver Jews record. And then there's this gospel 
singer/soul record from this good friend of mine (she lives out here, she sang 
back up on the Radio Video EP), and she's amazing and our British label wants to 

put her out (for what she is: straight up R&B/soul). She doesn't write, so I've 
been working on writing for her. And, undoubtedly, there will be another Royal 
Trux record in there. 


2 0 0 0

Royal Trux Interview
by Neil Kulkarni
Bleedmusic
October 31, 2000

"If people thought we were dumb, we took the cheque and agreed with them. 
We're free. They're not. Who loses?"
Damn good question. Royal Trux are adored by so many people now it's difficult 
to defend them, difficult to find some way of protecting them from 
misunderstanding when so much of the misguided mythology that follows them 
around is part of what appeals to so many. Frustratingly, never has a band 
needed so much demystification: in reading any of the sparse press acclaim 
they receive you wonder if RTX's obscurantism, their shadowy half-presence in 
the ether (helped by Neil Hagerty's wintry land-lubber silence and partner 
Jennifer Herrema's glam-rap sartorial steel) is deliberately contrived in 
order to keep that mystery unpinned, free to roam the imaginations of every 
listener.
Say little and people will create your mythology for you so long as the 
records continue to be so suggestive to that myth, and what information you do 
know neither confirms or denies any abstruse overthink you care to lose 
yourself in. So we all know RTX's place: two ex-junkie New York noiseniks 
emerging from a swamp of scagged-out abjection to the infinite space of 
Virginia to keep kookily turning out the same record in peaceful bucolic/boho 
seclusion. It all fits, it all allows you to stop thinking beyond awe, to file 
them neatly in the 'eccentric genius' bin and wait for the next transmission.
And it's all bullshit. And it doesn't square with my love. I find it difficult 
to believe, even for a second, in the supposed chaos that RTX reportedly revel 
in: that would be too predictable, too neatly sewn up from sound to crowd and 
back again- there's a rupture to an RTX record that has nothing to do with 
neat notions of auterism, that's just too damn perfect to happen by accident 
or simply emerge from the wreckage of just the right blend of chemical 
derangement. Jennifer is talking in London.
Myth one that needs skewering to the floor: RTX are a drug band.
"I guess it's just a lot easier for people to write us off as casualties: that 
way they can admire what we do vicariously but no further than that. That's 
fine, but the damage drugs do really has nothing to do with the way we make 
music, we certainly don't feel washed out or like we're fading away in happy, 
quirky recovery. Without a doubt the experiences we've been through have 
contributed to who we are but it's always seen as such a one way thing. People 
aren't so simple, not even musicians!! So there's an acceptance of your past 
but also a refusal carried with it, a desire to strike out completely 
transformed. All of it's there, but I think the way we look and the way we're 
portrayed doesn't help people get over the stereotypes."
She's walked into the hotel bar wearing the Jennifer Herrema wardrobe, 
neon-blue leather jacket, white fucked-up punk t-shirt, hip-hop jeans, 
snakeskin stilettos, huge gay-cop shades: what's weird is that the giggly 
cartoon-objectification she's received from London's grey combat-wearing 
media-elite for the last few years really does emerge as totally misplaced. It 
all suits her. That's why she wears it. And as soon as she opens her mouth and 
starts talking you realise something you'd never known before: she's normal, 
she's articulate, she's smarter than you and everything you've heard about RTX 
has been bullshit written by easily scandalised public-school prefects.
Myth two. RTX are walking, talking relics of some hoary old 
realer-than-the-rest vintage rock'n'roll insanity.
"Personally I think we operated as a model of how a band on a major label 
should act, and right now I think we're having an effect that most bands our 
size would find difficult to achieve. We put out exactly the albums we wanted 
to on Virgin [a stormy three-album deal that gave Trux "Thank You" (1995), 
"Sweet Sixteen " and a large cheque], took them for everything we could get, 
played the stock exchange to make it stick and basically created a scenario in 
which we can still live the lives we want to. We've organised our lives so we 
can dedicate our time to Trux and still have enough around us to keep us 
absorbed in other ways.
"You can't achieve that if you're fucked up all the time, you can't do any of 
what we've done unless you have a plan, a theory, an organisation. The way 
we're talked about it's as if our records are lucky to get made, as if it just 
kind of blobs out of us like grog. But every album had a point, every album 
changed and took on something else that we wanted to do. It's really been very 
contrived, deliberately so, finding that mid-point between what you want to do 
and what can just happen, the sounds that you can't control or predict or 
notice until they're on the tape like ghosts. But even an album like 'Sweet 
Sixteen', which so many people wrote off as a mess, we were just livid, we 
could see it all, this massive epic structure that just got derided as a piece 
of shit. That album really did decide us on whether we'd ever listen to 
critics. We do. Until we know they're wrong."
And perhaps that's the most frightening thing about Trux: the idea that these 
sonic monoliths, the plastic they make, didn't happen by accident. The moment 
when you realise that something so untrammelled and seemingly possessed by 
some arcane spirit of artistic malevolence is actually done in an entirely 
generous spirit might be the moment most people stop being interested in RTX. 
For me, it's the starting point of falling in love (rather than lust) with 
them.
Far from being just some pulp fusion of rock's coolest peaks, far from turning 
a disbelievers penchant for mix'n'match reference and studied style-collage 
into perfect facsimiles of belief, Trux are documentarians of their own lives 
and the perceptions of others. And they're honest about it to the point that 
their intellect isn't denied, that their groins aren't denied, that nothing is 
denied a place bar what doesn't work, what they feel in their bones isn't 
lethally accurate to that essentially honest project of describing their 
reaction to the times we live in. I reckon.
"Lyrics are hard for people. If they listen they'll hear what we hear, see 
what we see. We're pretty much writing songs about everyone around us, and 
they aren't living the rock and roll life. They could be at a gas station, in 
a bar, in an office, anywhere. But we see them and we try to imagine their 
lives, try to talk about them in a way that isn't patronising or reductive. 
Like, Harmony Korine is the usual spoiled artistic take on everyday life, that 
transformation of the everyday into some kind of freakshow where the 
middle-class and the smartasses can spin off on mundanity, either thinking it 
holds something profound in it, or just cos they think the whole thing's 
fucking laughable.
"I watched 'Gummo' and I felt like a participant in snobbery. We really aren't 
that cynical yet, or rather, we came through that kind of attitude to realise 
how wrong it was, how short it sold things. Rock is based on moments of 
simplicity. We just base our music on moments where a dozen ideas are 
happening at once. Because that's how we feel, that's how we rationalise our 
existence."
All of which has very little to do with being 'rock'n'roll incarnate' or any 
other such bullshit that sucks so much life out of RTX's suggestiveness and 
reach. It's the reductive dead-end of so much Trux-acclaim that irritates: the 
way their records are snipped off mid-launch to be decoded and coped with as 
the easily contained babble of 'genius', of 'maverick' talent. "Pound For 
Pound" sent me back an era, forward an eternity, but most pointedly fixed me 
here, made me feel the terse tectonic rub of time and culture that makes up 
being here now. And "Sunshine And Grease", the new single, is pretty much a 
perfectly etched cross-section of the pulls forward, the push back, the dazzle 
of surface and the undeniable warmth of soul that goes into any moment when 
pop works. Nobody is looking at music, at life, at art, at love, at the whole 
modern dance, as clearly as RTX right now: the only band around who believe in 
rock enough to fuck with it as it so righteously deserves, the only band 
around with just the right mix of tenderness and tyranny to make their 
experiment a living breathing index of a livable life.
"It's easy to write about us out in the woods as some kind of refugees from 
reality. Other bands deny that they're making products, deny that their 
audience are believing lies, deny that consumerism has anything to do with 
people's decisions to buy their products, deny that what's going on in pop 
music is a hell of a lot more complicated than the simple communication of one 
blank soul to another. We don't deny any of that and we're the demented ones? 
We don't care about probably not having the audience we aimed for: everything 
we do to alienate our audience just makes them like us more. If they want 
myths, we'll be quiet enough to let them carry on the fantasy. We work in 2-D. 
We'd just like people to know there's more to it than they think."
Meaning RTX have a future, that they're not just a glorious brick wall to slam 
against whenever they spring up. A whole way of being is there if you want it. 
"Pound For Pound" and "Sunshine And Grease" are their newest ways up, against 
and out of your own limits. Follow the leaders.

Adam & Eve
by Olivier Lamm
Planet Of Sound 
2000
[This interview was e-translated from French into English. Spelling and 
grammar may seem funky, to say the least. - Roger Deforest]
One does not present any more the couple most wrongfully declining of indie 
American. In the past tenants of one of more terrifying formulas of sound 
destruction of the isolationist scene new-yorkaise within Pussy Galore and 
consorts, Neil Hagerty and Jennifer Herrema since became the last 
representatives of a dcomplex rock'n'roll and deconstruct, like a post hard 
rock conscious of its roots and especially of its limits. The art of Royal 
Trux, it is that of the intelligent pastiche, off-hand exceptionally gifted, 
the humble deconstructionnism: a group which destroys at the same time as it 
invents one of the adventures more exciting current rock'n'roll. Blind Test in 
company of two truth-false stereotypes, much less limited than they do not 
have the air of it.
Rolling Stones: Please Go Home " Between The Short props " (1967) 
Neil: (after five seconds, starts to sing) " Oh, oh, Please Go Home... " 
Jennifer: Stones, " Between the Short props "... 
Neil: They are our greater influence, I think. My preferred period is " 
Aftermath " - " Between the Buttons ", when their sound was really crade. 
Jennifer: I prefer " Sticky Fingers " and " Some Girls ". Neil, your voice 
resembles much that of Mick Jagger, sometimes... 
Neil: It could be worse, like resemblance. This said, I listened to it so 
much... 
Jennifer: They do not resemble each other really physically, however, not? 
Mick Jagger is more beautiful, I find. 
Neil: More female, therefore. My true reference, it is Johnny Hallyday.
Johnny Hallyday? 
Neil: I saw it singing with tele for the world cup... (it imitates it). 
Jennifer: It is not very rock'n'roll ' roll, this known as (laughter) 
Neil: Not, I said just that it was like me, more... male.
Jon Spencer & the Blues Explosion " Blue Green Olga " (1999) 
( they listen during one minute, perplexed) 
Neil: It is more recent. 
Jennifer: You us master keys that because they is French and that you find 
that it is true rock'n'roll ' roll, not truth? 
Neil: I really do not see... 
Jennifer: Elvez? Dread Zeppelin?
You played together in Pussy Galore. 
Jennifer: It is Jon Spencer? I do not know this piece. It is that with 
Luscious Jackson? 
Neil: It is really not our trick. 
Jennifer: It is right somebody with whom one was in a group one day... in the 
past. 
Neil: It has nothing to do with us. It is funny to listen to out of box this 
known as (laughter). 
Jennifer: Like Elvez, a kind of Latin Elvis. It is ideal when you are 
completely stuffed. It is cool.
Matmos feat. David Pajo " Action At has distance " (The West, 1999) 
Jennifer: It is American? 
Neil: Not, it is electronic.
In fact, it is about Matmos. They are American and they make electronic music 
well... With the guitar, it is about Dave... 
Neil: Pajo. Dave, of course. 
Jennifer: It for a long time is known, one turned much together. And it plays 
on our " 3 songs EP " of the last year. But I do not know this piece. I adore 
Aerial M. 
Neil: Its new, that it came out under the name of Papa M is really 
brilliant... And each time that it takes part in a project, there can be at 
the same time involved in the work of the others and remain itself. Dad M is a 
perfect summary of his universe. Of course, it should be known to recognize 
its " leg ".
Edith Frost: Calling Over Time " Calling Over Time " (1997) 
Jennifer: Is it Edith? 
Neil: How is called this piece.? Calling Over Time? Its best piece, yes...
This album is rather different from " Telescopic ", that which Neil produced 
under the name of Adam & Eve... 
Neil: I adore this disc, but I wanted to bring different things with " 
Telescopic ", to test new things, to push back it a little in his last 
cuttings off, so that it discovers new aspects of its personality. And that 
went very well.
Association Royal Trux / Edith Frost is not really what one could call an 
obvious association... 
Neil: I discovered it with his first EP, which was really splendid. I adore 
his voice, his way of writing his songs. 
Jennifer: Its voice points out Anna Domino to me, it sings a little similar.
One feels also the influence of the country, which is very subjacent in the 
songs of Royal Trux. 
Neil: It adores that, perhaps more than us... But she does not like only that. 
It is true a fan of music. 
Jennifer: And of Royal Trux. 
Neil: Everyone is fan of Royal Trux (laughter).
Green River " Ain' T nothing To Do " (1992) 
Jennifer: Whoa, it is different...It is not Nirvana. 
Neil: Green River... 
Jennifer: They personally were not known. Only with which one has relations, 
it is Mudhoney. They are very good friends. 
Neil: But it is all. In Seattle, they was our enemies... (rires)
At that time there, one intended to speak about many alternative groups. But 
not really of Royal Trux. 
Jennifer: However much were truths fans of Royal Trux. One found them at the 
end in our concerts, with their bodyguards... (laughter) 
Neil: One was also friendly with the types of Sub Pop... But it is with the 
different end of the country, it is the West coast. Another universe. The 
album of Green River was really well, that where they were all out of black 
glasses. It was different thing which " Pearl Fucking Jam ". (note two of the 
members of Pearl Jam were in Green River). 
Jennifer: I adore Soundgarden. It is more my trick. 
Neil: Yes, it is more its trick.
John Fahey: Song #3 " America " (1969) 
Neil: (immediately) East what that sings afterwards? Not? Fahey then. Of 
course. I adore his first tricks, on Vanguard. There I have this album in 
cassette in my car. I prefer his tricks in solo, very simple. Nothing to see 
with these wild tricks with... How they were called? 
Jennifer: Red Krayola. 
Neil: Yes. Live has just come out on Drag City, an old trick completely 
nutcase.
One feels a folk influence on the calmest pieces of Royal Trux. 
Neil: I adore the folk. Pete Stansford, Robbie Basho, Michael Hurley... Tricks 
very, very old man. 
Jennifer: Its preferred group, it is Roaches. And full with other completely 
ashamed tricks. 
Neil: Yes... And then a Brazilian guitarist, that Fahey came out on Takoma at 
the time... I remember more his name, but I adore this disc.
High Small channel " Sadame " (Speed Free Sonic, 1999) 
Neil: Is it of Japanese? I do not know what it is, but I adore that! 
Jennifer: To make the most is possible noise, it that which they try to do, 
not? True rock'n'roll... 
Neil: They could be Japanese, then.
They are Japanese. You listen to Japanese noise? Or of the psychadelic one? 
Neil: Not really, I know nothing there. 
Jennifer: I like High Rise. It is them. Therefore know them to you... 
Neil: I do not know that there. The tricks of High Rise which I know are a 
little softer, psychdliques. I have an album which I like much. They have a 
little same mentality as us... They surely saw us in concert by the past 
(laughter)
Free Kitten & We & trade: Never Gonna Sleep " Sentimental Education " (1998) 
(They listen attentively, perplexed) 
Jennifer: One would say a little Ian Finolius. 
Neil: Wait... It is a woman? One would say Jennifer. 
Jennifer: It is not me, I swear you.
It is Kim Gordon, of S.Y., in a parallel project, with people of Pavement and 
Cibo Matto. 
Neil: Ah... They made some first parts for us, I really do not know them. 
Jennifer: One knows Sonic Youth, of course. One cannot pass to side. I know 
that Royal Trux is the principal inspiration of Free Kitten, it is as that 
which they began. 
Neil: Therefore they are hated... (laughter) 
Jennifer: Julie, of Free Kitten, made us listen to the first tricks, then one 
understood nothing more. It is known that they like us. Do you really always 
regard yourselves as " Veterans of Disorder "? Or is it right a joke? 
Neil: It sounds well! 
Jennifer: I looked documentary with tele, on the Lachaise Father, here, in 
Paris, on the tombs of the American veterans of the First World War. And 
somebody had written with the bomb above " veterans of disorder ". We liked 
Ca.
Neil: It makes think funny things of people. It is well.



Interview with Jim O'Rourke and Royal Trux
From Badaboom Gramaphone Issue 4 

There's a certain amount of schtickiness with having one musician interview 
another - one I find incredibly annoying to read. Either the questions are quite 

obviously set-up for them to discuss, or they talk about inane subjects and 
inside jokes. This situation can be argued as being somewhat different, as Jim 
O'Rourke wanted to interview Royal Trux, regardless of situation of where it 
would appear. So, I saw this more of an actual opportunity to have a group of 
respectable musicians discuss aspects of what they do. Just to insure this is 
the case, I've added footnotes (yes, in effect stealing the idea from the Forced 

Exposure interview with Chris Knox) to explicate anything that may be not 
understandable to those who can't rattle off Tortoise side projects. An 
introduction to the participants isn't necessary, as the following can serve as 
an introduction in and of itself. Jennifer, Jim and I met at the Nasty Little 
Man offices, while Neil joined in, courtesy of speakerphone. 
Badaboom Gramophone: Something that joins both of your music, might be that you 
both distinctly go through different phases of sounds while there is a 
consistent stream of style. The idea of going through different periods of 
different sounds, while maintaining a real abstract focus on a general goal or 
idea, making that transition, is it usually a feeling that you have done all you 

could with a certain idea, and then move on? Or is it something where you 
decided to move onto the next point? 
Jennifer: Yeah. 
Jim: I don't know if it is so much like that for me. For me, every time I am 
trying to figure out what it is that makes it "this." Why is "this" what it 
"is," trying to break it down; always trying to draw attention to it. That is 
why people think what I do is frustrating because I am trying to cultivate some 
kind of frustration. It's a dumb example that I always use. If you keep playing 
a drum fill all the time, and never get to the floor-tom, if you keep doing it 
over and over again hopefully people will eventually stop thinking "Why the hell 

didn't he play the floor tom," into, "Why did I expect him to play the floor 
tom." I guess that is sort of the way I think about it. 
Neil: I think that too. After four albums in a row, people always say "Album 
Three, why didn't you make the whole record like that fourth track on that 
album," or say, "Why didn't you make the same album this time, idiots." They're 
supposed to be savvy, and everyone looks at things like that. So it's a good way 

to take it not just in the music, but in their pop bullshit legacy thing. People 

will talk about "Well, they go it right once." If we keep changing, we draw 
attention to some strange objectification that people put on this stuff as if it 

was made strictly for them, and they are the final judge of putting us in this 
little tiny box. It is really cool to use that in the music, and from album to 
album, or product to product. 
Jim: How much does the preceding and next album contextualize what you're doing? 

Do you think in that scope? 
Neil: No, not think; it just contextualizes it. You know that's going to happen. 

On Album Six they say, "Well, on Album Five, blah blah blah," and it 
automatically precedes it. But sometimes it doesn't precede it. If someone goes 
out and buys Album Eight, and then goes back and buys Album Two, there can be 
connections that way. 
Jim: I'm kind of obsessed with that idea myself. The last record I made (1), for 

me referenced - not referenced directly, had a lot to do with old records. 
Neil: Your old records? 
Jim: Yeah. I'm kind of overly conscious of how the public is going to perceive 
it. For me, increasingly people think that I am trying to confuse people, but 
the challenge is. if everybody knows that I am trying to confuse them, how the 
hell can I confuse them? And it becomes increasingly difficult, which is, for 
me, interesting. Each time it gets more and more difficult; what the hell can I 
do now that is both going to confuse them and most importantly me. If I'm not 
confused when I am working on something, I don't feel that I'm actually learning 

something from it. If I feel that I can do this, and I can be . . . not on 
automatic, but if I really don't have some sort of crisis when I'm doing this, 
I'm probably not on the right track at all. I'm probably just coasting through 
it. 
Neil: At least it is of a musical thing, rather than interpersonal. Remember 
they overthrew that idea in 1982. So now, you are just supposed to push a button 

and it pops out. 
Jim: Neil, with the new record, I've only heard it once. For me, it seems to be 
making connections with Cats and Dogs (2). Not so much that they're working in 
the same territory again, but there seems to be an effort to make connections so 

you can see the bigger picture. How conscious are you with working in that way - 

"We need to develop something here that we left off over here, and we can make a 

bridge, in a certain sense?" 
Neil: We just let everything go, and said, "What we're going to do on this 
record; the big idea is that we are not going to anything. It is going to be 
whatever we feel like." The last three records we have been doing all this 
pressure-oriented stuff based on antagonism between us and a big record company 
corporation. 
Jim: You mean Drag City? 
Jennifer: Totally. 
Neil: No, no. Just Dan. 
(Some unconnected commotion momentarily disrupts proceedings) 
Jennifer: Alright, so what's going on here. 
Jim: We were talking about Dictator Dan (3) 
Jennifer: Dan, uuhh . . .talking about . . .. the big gist was you were saying . 

. . 
BG: Cats and Dogs. 
Jim: Just again, this thing about removing yourself and dealing with Royal Trux 
as a publicly perceived thing . . . 
Jennifer: We are a product, and as products change ...Let's see ... Pert Shampoo 

has gone through many facelifts just for the sake of keeping things new, fresh, 
and interesting. Royal TruxTM. That became - a weekend ago, when you write Royal 

Trux, it has to have the "TM." It's legal. It seems that there are no real 
personal external pressures on us. It's that we just don't live in a vacuum. We 
are completely aware of the context in which we are working in, we know what 
year it is, and we know what the fuck is going on out there. It's just kind of, 
as far as I'm concerned, it's taking little bits of all of those things and 
using them for our means, but ultimately making something that we can live with, 

but that also may serve a greater purpose. 
Neil: What's the greater purpose? I didn't get that memo, I guess. 
Jennifer: The greater purpose is to go outside of our house. 
Neil: I though it was to make money. 
Jennifer: Oh, of course, but first you have to get out of the house. One follows 

the other. 
BG: Is there anything that making a recording of a record, having the songs 
pretty much together, and being ready to do it. Is there anything that you've 
not been into - or wasn't really something that would help you along - that 
would be considered some kind of a technological advancement? Was there any 
equipment that you could have considered using, or some type of guitars or 
recording technique? 
Jennifer: Never. There have been lots of times where we have chosen many times 
not to use certain things in the past, but I know eventually we're going to use 
all those things. We just finished a new album last week, another one (1), and 
it's got a lot of those things that you might be referring to. 
Neil: On every record we record with a new thing. 
Jim: Are you recording with ADAT or analog now? 
Jennifer: Both the Scully eight track and then the sixteen track. The Scully 
slaves everything.(2) Jim: I did manage to get a twenty-four track. Paramount 
studios sold all of their analog equipment and a friend of mine bought 10 
twenty-four tracks, and I got it for five thousand dollars. It's two-inch. 
That's my favorite way to work - using a twenty-four track, and then it slaves 
Pro-Tools (4). I like using both simultaneously. I'm not wholehearted into the 
analog versus digital, because I think the argument is moot. There are some 
things that are better in analog, and there are some things that are better in 
digital. 
Jennifer: Oh yeah. 
Jim: Someone like Albini, who I think is a wonderful guy. It is just such an 
extreme. It's really limiting your possibilities for what you can do. 
Jennifer: It's totally limiting. This week, the brand new album that we finished 

is being mastered, and the guy we're having master it is a purist in terms of 
analog. 
Jim: Who's doing it? 
Jennifer: This guy named Steve Kraut. 
Jim: Steve Kraut, where is he from? 
Jennifer: You wouldn't know, he lives way out in the mountains and he's got 
awesome equipment. He sold us a bunch of Fairchilds (5). 
Jim: Really?!? 
Jennifer: We traded him. We had three Drammer 1960s (3), and we traded one for a 

couple Fairchilds. They have such a more intense sound. So, that's going be on 
our next endeavor. He brought over a quarter-inch deck because he was like, 
"Since I'm going to be mastering this, I'd like you to mix to quarter-inch, 
instead of your Panasonic DAT." We tried it. We listened to. And we listened to 
it. And we listened to it. And it sounded like the biggest piece of shit I've 
ever heard. So, I put it back on to digital and I was happy as a clam. The thing 

is that it does have that harsher sound. 
Jim: You just have to mix differently if you are going to mix to tape instead of 

digital. 
Jennifer: Exactly. Yeah, I think that was part of too. 
Jim: You've mixed that last few records to digital, right? 
Jennifer: Yeah, all of them. 
Jim: You have to totally reconceptualize how you are going to mix. 
Jennifer: I love, like, really needling high end. Not to the point where it's 
obtrusive and painful, but I really like that sound, and digital really gives me 

that sound (7). 
BG: Do you think that the attraction that people have for analog is nostalgia? 
The purity of the times when I would throw on my eight-track and it would just 
sound so great. The way to totally callously disregard everything digital. 
Jim: I think partially there is this disenchantment with digital because it 
isn't what it was touted to be. 
Jennifer: But then you come up with your own way. You use all your Neumans (8), 
you use your Drammer Pre-Amps, you use your Fairchilds, you bypass the piece of 
shit board. You go straight in, and you do all of the editing on the Pro-Tools 
and it's not that big of a fucking difference. There is a guy, and we produced a 

bunch of different records at his studio and, he is like an analog freak, and I 
believe it's to a fault. I found that on a couple of occasions where he could 
have done better if he just was not so intensely set. 
Jim: Oh yeah. It's just to bad, the whole analog freak business. I know a few 
engineers who won't touch digital, and it's to their detriment. They are all 
fantastic engineers, and they are just leaving options not open to them (9). 
BG: On your last album, you obviously set forth for a really warm sound . . . 
Jim: The last record was actually all on Pro-Tools. I would like to do 
everything on tape and Pro-Tools, but up until now I didn't have the money or 
the equipment to do it. I just finished an EP a few of days ago. It was pretty 
much recorded on a twenty four track, but then I had to do all of the overdubs 
on Pro-Tools. 
Jennifer: What about Bad Timing (10)? 
Jim: Bad Timing was all done entirely on eight-track and a really crap board 
that wasn't working. 
Jennifer: Really? That sounded so great. I though thought that was one of the 
most amazing sounding records that I had heard in a long time. 
Jim: Oh wow, thanks. 
Jennifer: Just like those horns sounds. I mean, I was just really - 
Jim: The horn player didn't want to play those parts. Like, "They're stupid!" 
and I was like, "I know!" 
BG: I think that it is interesting because you are talking about different 
equipment, and a lot of times you'll take stuff, like on the last record you 
did, mixing in different sounds that would be considered to be antithetical to 
the music you are doing. Would that be combining different types of equipment to 

do that, or is just basically getting what you can from what you are using? 
Jim: When I want a certain sound I figure out what I need to use to get it, not 
so much, "I like the sound that this piece of equipment is getting, I'm going to 

use that sound." Very rarely is it like that. Right now I am using a Powerbook a 

lot because I am writing my own software, so it is even getting closer to what I 

want because I just write the software to make it. Again, in the last year I had 

enough money to buy equipment, and I bought tons of voltage controlled filters 
and amps because I really love old patch bays. That is why I never got into 
MIDI. That way doesn't make sense to me, I like how you have to physically 
connect things. I love spending hours patching stuff together to get a 
particular type of filter on a sound. To me, it's fascinating. It's like playing 

Mouse Trap or something. It's great. 
Jennifer: On our last record (11), we did this whole Presonus 24 track Presonus 
to limiting (12), compressing... modules, and that was the vibe of the record. 
Jim: I remember when you finished it, Dan gave me a CD, and said make a few 
copies with various levels of compression for you guys, and I put my normal 
amount of compression, and I remember getting a message from either you or Dan 
saying that it was not enough. I didn't realize how extreme, it sounds awesome, 
but I didn't realize how much you wanted. 
BG: Do you think the songs lent themselves to that? 
Jennifer: Yeah, that was the thing. We have a big studio on a wing of the house, 

and we don't go back there, because things get out of control. So we make an 
idea, we think about it, we figure out generally how we want to approach 
something, and until that day we do not enter the studio. We could make a record 

everyday, and it would be totally self indulgent. We always try to come up with 
a very specific plan and execute it as such. 
Jim: That is kind of the exact opposite of me. I never leave my studio. 
Jennifer: That's the way a lot of people work. With us, it's been proven that it 

really doesn't work with us. I'll go in and we'll just start coming up with 
tracks. We'll be in this state of mind where it's all good. We can all make it 
good. 
Jim: I'm the exact opposite. I think that it's all terrible. When I think of an 
idea, instead of getting to the point where I need it, I need to do each idea 
that gets to that point so I can do it and throw it away. That helps me 
articulate what the idea really should be. 
Jennifer: It is not all good when we do it. I just know. I hear these things and 

I'm like, "Okay, I see what we can do," and I go off on another tangent as to 
how that particular record that was never even thought of before can actually be 

accomplished, but really over here we have already planned on something else. 
BG: Disregarding any kind of record company involvement, what is the longest it 
has taken you to follow an idea through for a record? It seems as if you do them 

all within a certain time frame. 
Jennifer: The longest record it took us to ever make was Twin Infinitives, and 
that was due to lack of funds and, um, personal unavailability to a certain 
extent. That took a really long time. After that, I don't think . . . 
Neil: It just depends on the deadline. Somebody else usually sets the timetable. 

If we have to do it fast we have to do it fast. Otherwise, we'll take our time. 
BG: Do you think if you were given two weeks, you could put together a record. 
Jennifer: We did. 
Neil: That's what exercises the control, it doesn't come from us. Going back to 
when you were talking about technology, we're not going to go and get something 
that isn't generally available to anyone. We don't take time in the way that a 
really concentrated production would be. We have to do it based on outside 
forces. Otherwise, we were not working in the context of just making music for 
money. Sweet 16 took us almost an entire year. We finished the record three 
times, and then redid it. The Back To School EP we did took us one day. 
Jennifer: Thank You took us three days to record. 
Neil: Well, we rehearsed that one. Four months rehearsal, three days recording. 
It depends on the situation. 
BG: How much would say you have of stuff that are half-finished ideas. Do you 
have reams of recordings of stuff? 
Jim: I erase everything. 
BG: You do? 
Jim: Once I finish the record, I even erase the master tapes. I just don't want 
to touch it anymore. I don't even want to be tempted to touch it. 
Neil: You gotta go back for the "Second Edition," man. 
Jennifer: We stock all our stuff for a library. We have learned that sampling 
ourselves, as we can't really hit the drum as we did it before, we'll just take 
that. [Everybody laughs] It's all real, though! It's all real! 
Neil: Now, we don't even own some of the tapes that we have so we just we reuse 
them for safety copies. They're on ADAT, which you can do. But now we are going 
to have a huge library of one-inch tapes, I can tell. We have ton of them. What 
do you do with that? You just erase it. 
Jim: Yeah, erase it. Or throw it away. 
BG: Why? Is it that you tried something, and it didn't work so you're not going 
to go back to it? 
Jim: Yeah, for me the interest in learning. I don't feel like I have some sort 
of talent in things I play, it is more the challenge of getting to point where I 

feel I have learned something from it. Hopefully people will get something out 
of it, not some much like I play guitar well. 
Neil: Right. That's true. 
Jim: A lot of people get on my case because I say things like, "I'm not 
interested in being a guitar player." They say, "Well, you play well." Yeah, I 
could probably play better if I practiced. And they get mad. Well, that doesn't 
interest me. I'm not interested in becoming a good guitar player. I'm interested 

in, hopefully, playing the guitar will get something across to somebody. 
Jennifer: Yes! 
Jim: The band I used to be in (13) became so guitar, quality-guitar-playing 
orientated. I couldn't fucking stand it. 
Jennifer: I have a definite thought on that! That's why I quit playing the 
guitar. I would play the guitar early on, and I would think of the guitar part 
in my head, I would go to play it and it sounded nothing like it because I could 

not do it. I would say to myself, "There's no reason why anyone should be 
subject to this bullshit when I could hire someone else to do exactly what I 
thought up in my mind." I don't get that. 
Neil: Watch as thousands of people will follow your lead. 
Jennifer: Yes, that's what we need to have happen. 
Jim: It's wonderful to hear someone else's character color you idea. Not so much 

to change what you play, but it's great to hear somebody else play. 
Jennifer: Well, I have an eye-hand coordination difficulty It was learned during 

my last year of playing soccer as a goalie. I got hit in the head, and they did 
tests and stuff. I have eye-hand coordination problems. I went, "OK, that's the 
end of that." I know that someone can play this better than I can. I have the 
ideas, I think of them, I hear them in my head. I can't do them. I talk to Neil, 

I'll put them on the piano and he'll start working on them. Then I'll hum riffs, 

and we'll come up with it together because I'm not going to fucking play it. 
It's mediocritist bullshit. 
Jim: I had a weird situation like that a few months ago. I was recording 
somebody's record, and they wanted me to play piano on a part. I went out there 
and I flushed out some sort of idea, and they said, "Okay, now you can record," 
and I said, "I can't play piano." They said, "Well, you just played it." I can 
play out the parts, but I have no coordination. People think, when you play the 
guitar, that you have good coordination between your two hands, which you don't, 

because they're always working together. They kept persisting, "No, you have to 
play it." I said, "Look, I can't play piano. Can't we get your piano player in 
here?" They said, "It won't sound the same," and I said, "Yeah, because it will 
sound like somebody can play piano." I ended up playing it. It took, like, two 
hours, and I was like, "We're wasting time having me play this." It was 
flattering that they wanted me to play it, but I really can't play piano. 
Jennifer: I don't think there is anything wrong with not being classically 
trained in one instrument. 
Jim: Everything is good about not being classically trained. 
Jennifer: Exactly, but I think there is a fine line between having some kind of 
innate ability to channel that thought. Whereas, there is a person like me that 
has the thought and has no way of channeling it. 
BG: You're [O'Rourke] talking about a situation where you're producing someone 
else's record, and you're [Royal Trux] talking about recording your band. I 
think that's interesting because that's different. You're talking about helping 
someone flesh out their ideas, while you're fleshing out your ideas. 
Jim: But that happens on my records too. 
Jennifer: This is makes it so much easier for me to help in production. I hear 
somebody - I'm not going to name names - but, we've done a lot of production and 

I've heard a bass line. It's a beautiful bass line. It's Iron Butterfly, it's 
"In A Gadda Da Vida," and I'm not going to be the one to say ...[tape ran out, I 

switched as quickly as possible] ...I don't think that there is necessarily 
wrong with that. I've been doing this since I was sixteen, but I know down the 
line you wish you kind of had someone in there giving you that kind of 
information. 
Jim: Well, that is part of the job of being producer: giving people context. One 

of the reasons I have decided not to be an engineer full time. For bands, when 
they come in, their whole year has been spent working towards this one to four 
weeks of working on this record. They are going to stay up twenty-four hours, 
and you have just came off of something else. You have to keep them connected to 

the outside world, because they have created this little world for that window 
of time. When their record comes out, it is not going to have to do with that 
four weeks that they were in the studio. 
Neil: Right, it is going to be in the possession ... It goes back to the 
beginning question, and our own records too. It has to be the prime thing, not 
the notion capturing energy or ideas. 
Jennifer: It is not a realistic process. 
Jim: It is amazing to me that you guys can do a record that quickly. It took me 
two years to make Eureka. 
Jennifer: It's mostly just, I know what's up enough that if I think and stew 
over something long enough, it's going to completely take on a whole other 
shape. It's not going to be a bad shape necessarily, but my true intentions will 

be lost. I just go in and I try. 
Jim: I think that I'm probably the opposite. I love to lose the original 
intentions. That is what I want. 
Neil: That's what she said. 
Jim: Oh I'm sorry, I misunderstood. 
Neil: You go in and spend six months. Even if you are doing something else - 
building the frame and laying the foundation mentally. When you go in, the 
physical is not wrapped up with your idea. We exercise some sort of control, 
whether it be the time frame or what is going on with us, and then contact that, 

like you would do with a producer. That is why we don't use producers because we 

try to be that to ourselves. If we work fast we don't have time to get in our 
way, and things take their own direction, and have the time to make 
technological decisions. We'll focus our so-called idea to the point where we 
lose track, and we should have controlling ourselves every second. 
BG: Is there anything that you've recorded that you can't listen back to and 
say, "God, I can't believe we did that." 
Neil: No because, well, yeah, there is stuff that we haven't released that we've 

recorded that we can't listen too. We have the option of time usually - truth be 

told. We've redone things at the last minute, or if we were close to a deadline 
or something. There are tons of changes we've made, but that is part of what 
keeps it from going from record to record, instead of just being about an image 
that we keep the same thing. It is about making music that didn't exist for 
ourselves, and to discover something. If it's dead it's dead, and we can stop if 

that ever happened. 
BG: Did ever have some type of path or style that you started going down, and 
completely bombed, and then came back to it later and it was successful? 
Neil: No, that has never happened to us. We never go from beginning to end and 
actually do what we intended it to do. 
Jennifer: Because whenever put something out to the public, we are 110% behind 
it. 
Neil: Even though it's an impossibility? 
Jim: I don't think that you mean necessarily things that have come out. I think 
you mean work in general? 
BG: With that, I mean work in general. I mean things you just try. Do ever say, 
"This is not working," and a few years down the line going back to it and 
actually have it work. 
Neil: Just a song. We've done that. 
Jim: For me, it's a whole album. I always think album more than song. 
Neil: Yeah. 
Jennifer: Yeah 
Jim: I've been trying to make Eureka for the last ten years, and there was just 
never time. For a while, I was sort of getting that out a little bit in that 
band, but... 
BG: Do you feel that you were being constrained there? Once you were doing your 
own thing, once you became Jim O'Rourke the personality, as opposed to a member 
of a band ... 
Neil: Again. 
Jim: I didn't like being sucked into that. I didn't like that. It's not an ego 
thing. It's just like ... 
Neil: Contemporary motivation . . . to fight against that, for whatever 
purposes, to search out confusion. You must come back at some point. Oh, that's 
when you've learned something right? That's a good motivation, I think. 
Jim: I mean that's what was frustrating about the band, because we were going to 

a point where I was feeling I was about to learn something, and I couldn't go 
that far. Of course, in a band it's a collaboration. I would always have to make 

compromises that I'm sure other people in the band had to, but I didn't end up 
not learning much from it. By the end, it was only two people, and I was the 
engineer. Of course, the records were becoming increasingly a product of the 
studio. I'm doing all this work for something I'm not learning from. It was 
something that was just maddening. 
BG: It is interesting that you say that because it sounds to me after listening 
to the first album you did together (14) I remember first listening to that and 
thinking that it sounds to me like a nything could happen on the next track. 
That anything could be thrown together, and it sounds like the possibilities 
were completely opened up. 
Jim: It was working out a lot better then. 
BG: As it went on, I felt more like, "I kind of know where this is going here." 
Jim: Oh yeah. 
BG: I kind of knew what I could expect. 
Neil: There are three phases. It is kind of like collaboration, compromise, and 
then shorthand after that. 
Jim: I really should have left earlier than I did. For me, it was just done. I'm 

not trying to get into dissing or anything here. I just was really trying to 
fight it. I mean, "Look, we're doing the same shit over and over again. Can we 
stop? I mean, look, we've never even done a song with a goddamn C# chord in it. 
The fact that we've never done it means that I want to do it. Why can't we do 
that?" By the end, I was writing my songs, and he was writing his songs. There 
was pretty much no collaboration whatsoever. It was pretty much like, "Why the 
hell am I doing this?" 
Neil: But a lot of people really liked the last one, right? 
Jim: I don't know. I don't know. Once the record was done and I quit, I wasn't 
allowed to know very much about it. 
Jennifer: Which one was that? 
Jim: Camoufleur. I forgot the name for a second. 
Jennifer: You see, I didn't hear Camoufleur. 
Jim: Good. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be mean, but that was the most 
depressing year of my life. 
Neil: You know outside of that, there was probably somebody who was completely 
inspired by that. 
Jim: That'd be great. I really did work really hard on it. It was just the fact 
that I was absolutely fucking killing myself for something that was just eating 
away at me, and I couldn't believe that I was doing it. I felt this moral 
obligation to finish it where I should have just said, "No." 
Neil: That's the conflict that you hate. 
Jim: That particular conflict, I wish I hadn't decided wasn't necessary. I 
learned from that. I learned a big thing from that. I'm not trying to say 
anything bad about anybody. I'm really not. I'm just trying to be honest. 
BG: The two most well known solo records you've done, are the two Drag City ones 

- two very guitar heavy ones. 
Jim: The second one is not that guitar heavy. Eureka? You have to understand, I 
don't listen to them; I'm trying to think what's on there. 
BG: The fact that it starts off with a lot of finger picking. 
Jim: I started off that way on purpose, because I wanted people to think , "Oh, 
he is doing Bad Timing again." I purposely wanted that, because then it is like 
50,000 instruments ten seconds into the record. It was like my personal joke. 
For me, a large reason why I did that record was a direct comment on what 
happened over the last two years. And, lyrically, the record is about ... 
Neil: But no one needs to know that. I would hear that in that record. 
Jim: It's there for somebody if they want to find it. I don't want to hit people 

over the head with stuff. I like stuff that on the fiftieth listen, I can still 
find stuff. 
Neil: Oh, yeah. This is probably not a part of the way that you think about it, 
but as a product, for me, that is really important to me. It is not like a 
planned obsolescence. 
BG: Do you really worry about becoming Jim O'Rourke!"? Where, "Oh, it's the guy 
who takes some recordings, who will cut up some tape, and will throw some shit 
together." 
Jim: I can't help it. Not me personally, it seems as if people are going to do 
it anyway - especially in the states. This sounds goofy. Last year, I was hardly 

in the states; I was in London and Tokyo for most of last year. When Eureka came 

out, I was in London and Tokyo. Over there, the way they perceive it, "This is 
his coming to terms with his obsession with Americana, and the fact that it's 
already a third-time-removed Americana." I was really happy and going, "Oh yeah, 

that is a part of it." I came back to the States, all I'm reading is, "Oh, 
lounge music." I come back to the fucking country where the context is all 
about, and they just don't even fucking get it. Yeah, there's a Burt Bacharach 
song on there, but the fact that it's a Burt Bacharach song is not the 
over-arching idea. That's not why it is on there, because it is a Burt Bacharach 

song. I mean listen to the lyrics. The lyrics have something to do with the rest 

of the record. 
Jennifer: Yeah, that is always a problem, people never listen to the lyrics. 
That's all I spend my time on. It's as if I could have written "Doo doo shit 
flop dick." You know, I might as well. That is the one frustrating thing. 
BG: Do you have a lot of people coming up to you talking to you about things 
that have nothing to with the record you did? 
Jennifer: It is like they didn't listen. 
Neil: That is the type of shit that you can't worry about. What you were saying 
about that Burt Bacharach reaction? 
Jim: Well, it was frustrating for me because half the interest is figuring out a 

way to get a certain idea across. In that case, I recorded the song, and three 
or four months later all those Bacharach revivals started happening, and I 
slapped myself in the forehead. There goes that context! Fuck! 
Neil: Bad timing. 
Jim: Super bad timing. 
Neil: That should be the next record. 
Jim: It is actually going to be "Insignificance." I just like the title of this 
next EP, Halfway To A Three-Way. Dan's very excited about it. It's all songs 
about perverts. 
Jennifer: I'm sure he is. 
Jim: "Excellent." That is what he always says. He's very excited. 
BG: It is interesting where you have had to go off on your own, and you guys 
have kept collaborating and been successful doing it. You've been able to 
reinvent yourselves, and do interesting things. Do you really feel that together 

is the most ideal way you have been able to make music? 
Jennifer: Yeah 
Neil: Oh Yeah. 
Jim: For me, that is so frustrating because I've always been doing stuff by 
myself. That was what was so frustrating about that band. I've been making 
records since when I was 18. It was always funny to read a review of Bad Timing: 

"his first solo record." What do you mean? It's like my fifteenth record! The 
whole time, I was also collaborating because I also do improvising, and various 
things. I try to put as much work into everything I do, equal amount of work. I 
do this one thing and all of a sudden it eclipsed everything I've ever fucking 
done! What the hell is going on? And now it's like "post Gastr Del Sol" solo 
project. Well, how come it wasn't like, "post album with Henry Kaiser solo 
album" (15)? What the fucking going on here? I hated that! 
Neil: Working with those people like you did, would you still do it? 
Jim: Still work with other people? 
Neil: Well, improvising ... 
Jim: A bit. I'm doing it more now that I play the Powerbook. I like writing a 
new program for each person I play with. It is kind of exciting. 
Neil: We always try to get new people in, because it is like, not on a material 
level, but on a music level, a lot of the problems with people to play with in 
America, not grasping the power behind it. They just think of that music as "eeh 

uuhh"(16). Working with people like that has kept us going on. If we stay 
together and work together, at least there's some sort of solid state where I 
can turn. When I'm completely confused, I can turn to Jennifer for support. 
Jennifer: Well ... 
Neil: That's the two-versus-one. I was in bands before without Jennifer. I 
played in bands and I had my own band, and it was terrible. It was missing 
exactly what needed to be added to it from her. 
BG: You both know each other well enough , that if you get other people in the 
band, is that like getting a second person? 
Jennifer: That's like buying a scapegoat. I mean really, my reactions are 
completely irrational, and it causes for a lot difficulties. If I hear something 

or something going on, and I don't like it, instead of my rational mind going, 
"Okay, why is this, what can I do to change it, how should I proceed?" I just 
go, "I hate this." I kick the wall, and I leave the room. It's very immature. I 
have to get somebody else in on it; I have to get the scapegoat so I look 
decent. [Everyone laughs] It's something that I have been working on a lot. I 
can't help it. I really just can't help it. You feel so strongly about 
something, and there's no - "If we were just to, um, to put this through reverb, 

and then compress it and then put it through the and take it directly to 
Pro-Tools, and fuck with the levels ..." I'm not going to like that either, only 

because I can't give it a chance. It is very undiplomatic of me. But it works 
out. 
Jim: I am very undiplomatic of myself. Most of the time I am working by myself, 
and it is kind of difficult. 
Jennifer: I'm definitely undiplomatic with myself. If I hate something, I 
fucking hate it. But if it's something else, if I know how I need it to be and 
we've got a bunch of musicians up working. If I feel like I've given explicit 
directions as to how ...They're not machines. I know that. I'm just saying this 
is the vibe, and I'm trying to figure it out with long talks, and it's gone. 
Neil: You are just demonstrating the process. We think we have total control, 
but nothing is like that at all. It all just ends up the way it ends up. 
Jim: It's funny. Whenever I record people to play on my records, I always take 
first take. I hate the recording part. I love recording other people's records, 
but when I'm recording my stuff, I hate it. I want the recording part to be over 

as soon as possible, and I want to mix for a year. 
Neil: Yeah. 
Jennifer: That's it. Yeah. 
Jim: I'll be, like, "I don't care I'll fix it." They made a mistake, fine, there 

will be a roadblock. I'll have to find a way around it. 
BG: What is the appeal of that? 
Jim: Because I like mixing. I don't like recording my own stuff. I like mixing 
it. 
Jennifer: I love mixing. 
Jim: That is where it happens. 
BG: But isn't mixing, especially if something goes wrong - isn't it going to 
take eight times as long to figure out? 
Jim: That's great. I'll spend that time. 
Jennifer: The mixing is the best. 
Jim: On this new EP, I had a trumpet player come in, and he's wonderful. I 
purposely told him how to play it wrong, because I knew he'd play it right, so 
the field was totally fucked up. 
Jennifer: Reverse psychology! It's horrible. We have to do it all the time, and 
I always feel guilty. 
Jim: When I'm recording people's records, I'm always tricking them. If someone 
is singing too high, you don't tell them. You just pitch the tape up a hair, and 

they sing it perfect. You just always trick people into doing things. You're not 

tricking them in a mean way at all, you're sort of second guessing them for 
them. 
Jennifer: You're side-stepping the bullshit that usually generally creates 
confusion. 
Neil: It seems like such a ritual now, or everybody going to break off into some 

tall Island Of Rundgren or something. 
Jennifer: That Smog one you did ...(17) 
Jim: The last one or the one before? 
Jennifer: The last one, it was awesome. 
Jim: Oh thank you it is always an honor working with Bill. Bill's brilliant. 
Jennifer: Those background singers (18)... 
Jim: See, that was a lot of psychology. A lot of the kids would come in, and 
they can't sing. I would have to figure out ways to get rid of them. I had to 
figure out all of these lies. "Well, you know what kids? We only need three 
people on this one. Let's see what's fair. We'll do Eenie meanie minie moe." 
I'll do that out loud, while I'm thinking, "Pick Mary, pick Mary, pick Mary." 
You have to do all of these tricks, even with little kids. Of course, sometimes 
you treat adults like little kids. 
Neil: Sometimes, when we produce other people, I don't like to do that so much. 
I think Jennifer does that best. 
Jim: I'm not trying to trick them into something that they are not wanting to 
do. 
Jennifer: It's not being evil. It's good cop, bad cop. I know what I'm doing and 

I know it's for the best of what it is they're looking for. I'm trying got make 
it easier for them. It's not like we walk into a studio with a stranger. There 
has been a lot of preproduction, we've talked it out, and you have to come up 
with a way of implementing it. 
Jim: I'll never go into a record without talking, without working on it 
beforehand. 
Neil: Or you say something directly. Since you're musicians, musicians, of 
course, are not going to play it again, so I'm just going to tell you exactly. 
What we get generally, is totally wrong, and that's the thing to keep. But we're 

two, so I can act one way, and Jennifer can act another way. 
BG: What you're saying is you tell someone what you want, and they do it wrong, 
and you say, "That's great"? 
Neil: It is the same results in a different way. 
Jim: You have to be a psychologist when you're this sort of stuff. 
Jennifer: There is a lot of mental game playing, but not in a vicious way. 
Neil: It's time to move forward. It's not about, "It needs to be like this, so 
it sounds good on the radio." And I would say ninety percent of people who do 
production with bands, I don't think they think like this. 
Jim: A lot of these people come into to do a record, and they have their own 
personal way of articulating what it is they want. Then, they are thrown into a 
studio, which a whole different world, and they don't know how to articulate it 
there. It's your job to help them translate it, whether it be discussion, 
whether it be directly doing it. When I say tricks, it's always technical 
tricks. 
Neil: When we produce stuff, there is us playing on it often, and it is included 

in the fee. We always do it uncredited, because we are not influencing the 
music. "I'm going to go knock this out, so we don't waste time discussing it." 
BG: When you're working with something else, and you know what you want to get, 
but you don't want to tell them because you think it will ruin it, do you tell 
them a lie, or do you try to keep them in the dark? Do you say, "Just do this, 
just trust me, play this." 
Neil: It depends what the situation is. That's the beautiful part of it. 
Jim: That's one of the great things about recording peoples' records. Every 
month, or every week, or every few months, you are thrown into a situation where 

you have to start at ground zero again. You have to learn how these people 
think, how they articulate what they want. You can't just go in with a bag of 
tricks. You have to relearn every single time. 
Neil: That is why, when we work on different albums, we try to get a different 
combination of people for that reason. It is sort of the opposite, I think. 
Instead of having a bag of tricks and apply it to the popular style of the time. 

I think that's the standard. 
Jim: That's why I was so disappointed when remixes started becoming a legit 
genre, because it was just a bag of tricks. Someone has a sequence, and it says 
"Sample A, Sample B, Sample C equals this." Then they each try to remix. They 
get the record. "Okay, I need Sample A, there's an example of Type A in their 
song and there's the remix." That's bullshit. A remix . . . not only are you 
making a new piece of music - unlike when you make your own music, which is not 
totally true to a certain extent - you can also play with the expectations of 
the original because the music is already loaded in the audience's mind. You can 

make some sort of documentary, some comment on the original, not just making 
another piece of music. So few people seem to be doing that with remixes and 
that's why I personally got interested in doing them in the first place. 
BG: Defying the original expectations you're saying? 
Neil: Doing whatever but it's all related... 
Jim: Again, each time it's different. But what is it about that original track -
BG: Give me an example of something you've done, and what your goal was with 
doing that remix. 
Jim: I just did this Autechre remix. Let me think of good example of a remix. 
This Autechre remix; with Autechre stuff it seems like this never-ending world 
of sound. They're brilliant. For me, it's the challenge of how can I make it 
apparent to the audience that you can take five seconds of sounds - not to 
belittle their efforts, because that is, of course how you do that stuff. I 
wanted to bring that idea to the foreground. For example, I did a This Heat 
remix once for a song, and it never came out because they scrapped the whole 
project (19). For the song, there were locked grooves at the end for ten 
minutes. The beginning has this little fade up intro and it hits this note. When 

they hit this note, it never went passed this note for ten minutes because of 
the locked groove. It was the same idea, but because it was so exaggerated, I 
think it would draw more attention to that idea. Sitting on a groove doesn't 
draw so much attention to the minimalism because it's already been established 
as a norm, that you can sit on a groove. But sitting on a note. People are going 

think, "What the hell did he do that for?" I'm hoping that people would 
eventually, not so much be frustrated. It's that line, where people are going to 

be frustrated with me, or getting past the point of frustration with me, and 
saying, "Why am I frustrated?" I did this record, Happy Days, and the beginning 
has me playing a simple guitar, and then there is this big fucking drone, and 
all these hurdy gurdys, and at the end the guitar comes back. When someone asked 

me to do it live, I sat on stage and played the guitar part for the whole forty 
minutes, and you can't hear me. You just can't hear me. I was hoping that people 

would eventually say "Why the hell is he still playing? I can't hear him." It's 
that frustration that interests me. 
Endnotes
1 Eureka, on Drag City, the first solo record where O'Rourke sings and contains 
what might be argued to be songs.
2 A former Royal Trux record.
3 Dan Koretsky of Drag City responds: I believe there are a few things at play 
here:
a) They are clearly referring to Virgin, comically disguising it as Drag City. 
Were they actually discussing DC, Neil would have mentioned the six records of 
"pressure-oriented stuff based on antagonism between us and a big record company 

corporation" [Drag City]. Though in our defense, I must say, the antagonism was 
never towards Royal Trux - just Jennifer!
b) I think when Jim says "Dictator Dan," it's clear they're all talking about 
Dan Osborn. I'm known to our musicians as (rather unaffectionately) "The Little 
Prince." The people around the office call me "Dr. Doolittle," but I understand 
what they mean! I think.
4 Jacques Cohen, who runs The Space studio in Poughkeepsie, NY explains: The 
other recording devices follow or sync up to the Scully 8-track. The Scully acts 

as the master, the other machines follow the Scully's tape speed and position. I 

believe that the Scully machines sounded good but had quirky transports. This 
would make it difficult to follow (or syncronize to another) tape machine.
5 Jacques Cohen: Pro-Tools is a computer based multitrack recording and mixing 
system.
6 Jacques Cohen: I agree. That "harsher sound" means that the higher frequencies 

are more pronounced.
7 Jacques Cohen: I believe that tracking to digital can be used as an effect for 

a more "unnatural" sound.
8 Jacques Cohen: Neuman Microphones - considered the Rolls Royce of Large 
Microphones. And of course expensive.
9 Jacques Cohen: People do go crazy with expensive vintage analog gear. Others 
do the same with digital; buying expensive outboard analog to digital converters 

and such. I use both. A lot of good records were made throughout the 70's and 
80's (and yes, even the 90's) where almost everything was analog (except for 
maybe the mixdown DAT) and everything had TRANSISTORS (not tubes). Good circuit 
design is good circuit design and if it sounds good go with it...
10 O'Rourke's solo record on Drag City before Eureka. It featured pastoral 
finger-picked guitar compositions.
11 Veterans Of Disorder
12 Jacques Cohen: Presonus is fairly new company that makes relatively 
inexpensive good quality 8-channel audio compressor/limiters.
13 Gastr Del Sol.
14 Crook, Crackt, and Fly
15 According to the Forced Exposure website, Jim O'Rourke and Henry Kaiser made 
two albums together. The first is entitled Tomorrow Knows Where You Live and was 

released in 1991 on the Victo label. The second, Acoustics, came out in 1993 and 

had Mari Kimura on violin and Oswald on alto sax join in on the duo's improvised 

acoustic guitar playing.
16 Here, Neil is imitating skronky guitar sounds.
17 Knock Knock
18 There was a chorus of children's voices on the album.
19 This Heat were a seminal English band from the late seventies that Trans Am 
went on to rip off. This was a project where O'Rourke and Robert Hampson were to 

be on, and I believe the former This Heat members were to contribute as well. 
Two years after it was first started, the idea of doing it was dropped.


Interview with Neil Hagerty
by Blake Brunner
June 9, 2000 

Blake Brunner: You have a studio in your house right? 
Neil Hagerty: Yeah, we have the stuff. We move it around. it's not like uh it's 
not built into it. 
BB: Is it digital? 
NH: No, we had a Scully 8 track analog and we do have some digital stuff, like a 

computer thing. We got all the stuff, it's just that we don't have like, major 
room for it. 
BB: Did you get any money for putting the Sweetwater Sound endorsement in the 
Accelerator notes? 
NH: No no, we just did that for like, uh tradition. We usually get good deals. 
The first thing we did was we bought a bunch of shit from them when we were on 
Virgin. So from then on we got a little respect from them. 
BB: Did you send them the CD so they could see the promotion? 
NH: Nah. I'm not a big fan of notes on records, you know. So it was just like a 
decoration. 
BB: Are you anti putting lyrics in the record notes? 
NH: Nah, I don't know, I go back and forth. We did it on one album I think... 
BB: If you were just writing those words down, like prose or poetry, would they 
be as important? 
NH: Yeah, see that's the problem. I don't really like that. Just as long as 
there's something to read, it's cool. Or if there's not, that's fine too. 
BB: How do lyrics relate to-- is there a musical economy? 
NH: We try to have it be 'Everything's equal.' So a word and how it's sung has 
value, sometimes you can dip down and have it be louder or less loud. 
BB: I guess it wouldn't make sense to put guitar tablature in the liner notes. 
NH: Right, there you go. 
BB: Back to the studio-- how often do you use the musical equipment that's in 
the house? 
NH: Not all the time. 
BB: Why not? 
NH: It starts to feed into the whole way, everything you do, fill my void, you 
know? We do things, like we do mixing jobs, especially for English bands. We do 
that as a setup thing, but not the recording. I mean, we do our own demos. We 
also record elsewhere and then bring it back. 
BB: Who's this band, The Chicks? 
NH: We just produced them. We went up to a place in Philly. 
BB: The City of Soul. What about the Delta 72? I know you produced them, but are 

you a fan of those guys? 
NH: Yeah, you know, like them and The Make-Up, there's something about them I 
like, all the material aspects of it. But maybe it's just because I know them. 
When I've seen The Delta 72 play live, I've seen them take an unsuspecting 
audience and they have the effect, it's not like an ironic thing. It's just a 
guy trying to make people dance and be happy. 
BB: Do you think bands like the Delta 72 and The Make-Up have, for a lot of 
people, a kitsch value? 
NH: Yeah, that's always the danger. We played with the Make-Up a few times and 
their audience is real weird, you know, they dress like the band. I guess people 

go through phases. They listen to something and then they go on-- 
BB: As far as the Adam and Eve production business-- it says on the new album, 
'Produced by Adam and Eve.' 
NH: Yeah we do our own stuff. 
BB: Well, on the last Prince album, well the Artist, you know, the last album 
that came out under the Symbol moniker, that album said, "Produced by Prince." 
NH: Oh wow. 
BB: I don't know, you and Prince, on the same production wavelength. 
NH: Uh oh. 
BB: Should anyone be thinking about that, though, when they see, "Produced by 
Adam and Eve?" Should they be familiar with your other production work? 
NH: Well that's the thing, to sort of connect our own Royal Trux work with the 
other things, you know. It's kind of incongruous, it's kind of funny. 
BB: On the new album, your guitar sounds really clotted up, very rough. How did 
you get that sound? 
NH: This little Danelectro pedal I use, and then there's the Mesa Boogie, it's 
two 10s I think. The Danelectro, I think it's called the Fabtone. And then I 
have a semi-hollow body Gibson. But the guy mic'd it kind of weird. I didn't say 

anything, you know, but he used a stereo pair [microphones], so I think there's 
weird phase things going on. 
BB: It's not bad but-- 
NH: It's kind of weird, yeah. Another thing might be that I use 5 strings, so 
the neck is always a little off. Chords always sound weird. I can't just sit 
there and play a G chord and go, 'Oh, this sounds sweet.' Every note I play I 
have to really work on it. 
BB: When I was in high school I started taking the high e string off. 
NH: Yeah, mine always used to break because of the shitty Strat copies that I 
played, and the bridge was just, like, die casting with rough edges on it. It 
would just slice the strings. But then I read somewhere that Chuck Berry took 
his e-strings off, so I was like, oh okay cool. 
BB: I felt vindicated when I read that you did it too, because people would 
always be like, 'why are you fucking up your guitar?' 
NH: 'It's the most important string man!' deedle deedle (imitating wanky guitar 
solos). 
BB: Do you use any open tunings? 
NH: I did that for a while, I guess around 93. I used a slide. But fretting a 
bar chord with my whole finger just started to be a really big strain on me. A 
couple shows we had to quit early because my arm started swelling up. I was 
using really high gauge strings. So I went back to regular tuning. But I moved 
the strings down a notch on the bridge because that seemed to help the bending 
of the neck. The guitar I'm using now is like a twig sometimes. Gibson is my 
favorite brand really, and I've tried a lot. I had a Paul Reed Smith, they're 
really durable too, but they have a sort of overdriven sound, you know? I found 
my PRS used in Nashville at a pawn shop. It seemed like a place where down and 
out studio musicians would pawn their third or fourth line guitar. They had one 
of those Telecasters that's got like, it looks like it's got wicker on it. They 
had all sorts of weird shit, like a paisley Strat. But they were cheap, I guess 
the shop didn't know. Their pedal steels were way overpriced, but their regular 
electrics were like, 'whatever,' you know? I paid maybe like $700 for my PRS. 
They've got a fucked up bridge, with the tuning pegs-- it's weird. It's like a 
little fang that clicks. I never got the hang of it. 
BB: I heard that Nashville is the place to get used instruments. I'm more into 
synthesizers than guitars, though. 
NH: I got an old Korg in Nashville, no wait that was DC. I think the best place 
to find synthesizers might be the midwest, because they had all those Loverboy 
type bands. There's this one analog you know the EMS brand? 
BB: The VCS synthesizers? The ones that had the little joysticks on them? 
NH: Yeah. You know that guy Jim O'Rourke? He's got this set of old filters, I 
think they're called Putney filters, and they're the kind of filters that they 
used on the EMS synthesizers, you know those modules that you patch together? So 

when Jim O'Rourke records, he's got like 6 eq modules outfitted with these 
filters. So that got me looking around and I found some shit, you know like on 
digibid? But they were just components. All I could find was individual 
components for these modules and they were going for like, too much. 
BB: You gotta look somewhere else than the internet for old shit like that. Have 

you ever seen those Moog Concertmates that Radio Shack made? 
NH: They had the tiny little eighth of an inch plug? 
BB: I don't think so. The Concertmate is tiny, it looks like a Moog Rogue 
synthesizer. 
NH: Yeah I used to have one of those. 
BB: The Concertmate was a Moog and Radio Shack collaboration. Just like you go 
in Radio Shack now and find the shitty digital synthesizers, this was a shitty 
analog thing from about 20 years ago. 
NH: They should bring it back. 
BB: That's what I'm saying. But anyway, these things are like $400 or $500 on 
ebay, but they're just monophonic, with one filter, but the analog pedigree just 

gets people so worked up to spend their money. 
NH: That's the thing I so overlooked, was the analog filter system. I mean, you 
could patch shit in there, and you could go out of one into another and just 
keep filtering the signal. That really blew my mind. 
BB: There are those companies that make like, not snap-tite synthesizer kits, 
but if you have any knowledge of soldering you'll do alright. Have you heard of 
that PAiA company? 
NH: Oh I bought something from them but I never put it together. It was too 
complicated. 
BB: One of my friends tried to put together a PAiA overdriver. He ended up 
paying $100 to figure out that he didn't know anything about reading schematics.
NH: Oh god I know. Maybe nowadays you could go online and get somebody to 
explain it to you or something. I think I just ended up giving my thing away to 
somebody who was capable with electronics. What I had was a guitar synthesizer, 
it was pretty early. You just plugged it in, I guess it was like an effects 
unit. This was back in the late 70s I think, so it was just a bunch of filters I 

guess. It only cost like $60 something. I met a guy last year, we bought our 
analog machine from him. We actually traded it. I traded him one ADAT machine 
for it. We got a 1-inch 8 track recorder. It needed a little work, but this guy 
did it. I met him through a friend who owns a studio, but this guy's a complete 
electronics wizard, and he's really cool and nice. He's not in the business 
anymore, so it's just a hobby. You ask him for help with something and he'll get 

all excited about it. 
[more studio talk.] 
BB: Anyway though, on the new album, on the first song, there's the lyric, 'You 
are the music/ Don't let no one tell you that you got a job to do.' Is that 
sarcasm? It seems like the type of thing some record label guy would say to Lars 

Ulrich. "Lars, buddy, you are the music!" 
NH: Yeah but I don't travel in those circles. 
BB: I know. 
NH: It's more about the music than the you. It's talking about the way that 
music is used now. I'm not transfiguring it as a metaphor for YOU are the music.
BB: See, I thought it was a critique of a music system that would dictate that 
personality necessitated music. 
NH: No, it's just sort of about videos, really. You know, because it's called 
'Call Out the Lions,' it's like Romans killing the Christians and that type of 
thing. This whole idea of a secret underground society with the little fish 
pendants and those types of things. Some movie like Spartacus. But also there's 
that E-F#-A minor chord progression and that brings out sort of a melancholy, 
like, thing. But you're right, a lot of our shit is sarcastic, but "Call Out the 

Lions" isn't as much sarcastic as it is double-edged. 
BB: Okay, what about this then? Royal Trux uses a lot of automobile imagery and 
references. Like '99 octane,' 'Accelerator,' etcetera. 
NH: Cars and girls, you know what I mean? It's just supposed to be like a rock n 

roll thing. You can look at the abstracts, but when we go on tour it's a big 
part of it - cars. The van's a big thing. We got a pretty nice car a few years 
ago. 
BB: I heard it was a Jaguar. 
NH: We picked up a used one, and we got lucky because the engine was really 
good. 
BB: Wow, most of the time those cars barely run. 
NH: Yeah, I'd heard nothing but horror stories. 
BB: You gotta have 3 Jaguars, one to drive and the others for spare parts. 
NH: Yeah really. We don't drive ours that much, so that's probably helped it 
last. We're gone so much. 
BB: Do you keep it in the garage? 
NH: No, we just kept it in the front yard. It was getting baked, and we had to 
have it repainted actually, just recently. I finally bought a cover for it. 
BB: You'll be like one of those rich dudes with the cover always on his nice 
car. 
NH: Yeah, but really driving around in a Geo. 'It gets great gas mileage!' 
[talk about Asheville, NC and hippies] 
NH: Our drummer's a hippie. 
BB: Chris? 
NH: Yeah, over Memorial Day weekend he was gone for 4 days. He goes every year 
to this festival. It's camping in the woods, playing drums. It's like a 
bluegrass, world music festival. Way in the mountains up there. 
BB: Is there ever a conflict of interest? 
NH: You know, it's real bad because I'm totally into that, and I have a hard 
time convincing Chris that I'm sensitive to it. Because we're pretty city-fied 
in certain ways, and cynical about things. But he'll let people into the 
dressing room because he doesn't know. And that's the one thing that we're 
constantly on his back about, we'll have to kick the people out and yell at him. 

And he's like, "Hey, man." And we're like, come on Chris, this is the only time 
we have alone. 
BB: I read some interview where he was trying to sell the interviewer some bead 
necklaces that he'd made. 
NH: Ha ha, yeah, but he's learning, you know? He tries to relate to everybody on 

a totally human level, and that's awesome, but I worry about him stretching 
himself thin, because 75% of people are gonna be total assholes. You know, every 

deadhead that I met, or every real deadhead, they're just total hustlers. The 
type of people who would run the helium, uh, the nitrous concession. It's like a 

little Mafia. That's cool too, that's what it's about. I know the Dead were 
like, you know, bikers who couldn't ride. Ha ha. Because they had bad vision or 
something. But they were assholes. 
BB: Did you ever see Gimme Shelter? 
NH: Yeah, that's awesome. When Jerry shows up, right? He's like, 'Oh bummer,' 
and they just split. 
BB: 'It's a bad scene dude. Marty Balin just got punched out by a Hell's Angel.'
NH: 'Aww, dude-- Later!' They just fly away in the helicopters or whatever. 
BB: Yeah, and the Grateful Dead were the ones who recommended the Hell's Angels. 

NH: Yeah, and then they fucking left. When we lived in San Francisco, I would 
ask older people, cabbies and whatnot, about the Dead. And the response was 
pretty much, "Those guys were assholes! They were capitalist pigs!" So that's 
why I worry about Chris. He's smart and he doesn't come out of a middle-class 
background and he's had a really wild life. 
BB: Have you ever played any with his dad? 
NH: No, not yet, but he's a big supporter of us so that's cool. He's a badass, 
man, after all the shit he's been through he's the most energetic, strong. But 
he's also like a babbling raver, you know? He's just wild. 
BB: I saw him on the Skynyrd Behind the Music on VH1. 
NH: Yeah, he's out of the band now. The band broke up into 2 camps, and he was 
in the "Let's don't make the same mistakes we already made" camp. You know, I 
just heard on the radio yesterday that Dickie Betts got left off the upcoming 
Allman Brothers tour, and he went crazy and like shot up his house. 
BB: One of those Allman guys lives around here, or he used to anyway. They'd 
always be playing downtown. But not too much anymore, everybody's trying not to 
attract as many hippies as they used to. 
NH: Yeah, there's that hippie circuit. It was hard for us. In 1992 we'd play in 
Columbia, South Carolina. 
BB: Ha ha. The Rockafellas club. 
NH: Yeah, and we'd open up for some band that was Spin Doctors meets whatever. 
Like Jupiter Coyote. 
BB: They're still around? 
NH: Yeah, we see their flyers all the time. The Aquarium Rescue Unit. I mean, we 

have the same kind of influences, but those bands are just so hammy and 
exploitative. 
BB: Like Blues Traveler. 
NH: But that guy is a great harp player, no doubt about that. But the feeling is 

very narrow, kinda like porn. They could do more, but whatever. 
BB: Are you going to go to Europe this summer? 
NH: Yeah, probably in August. We'll be doing some of those festivals, and we've 
never really done those before. That should be fun. 
BB: I went to one of those when I was younger. 
NH: Like the Reading festival? 
BB: Yeah, I went to Reading. 
NH: It's just like a big mess, right? 
BB: Naw, when I went it didn't rain at all, the weather was alright. So the 
festival was fun. 
NH: In England don't they just set aside a certain time of year when it's just 
acknowledged that the kids will be going to these festivals? 
BB: Bank holidays. 
NH: Yeah, it's bizarre. It's so controlled. 
BB: Yeah, it's like, 'The fun time starts this point in time and only lasts 
until this other point.' 
NH: 'And you must be done with your fun at this time. And then it's time for 
national service.' 
BB: Ha ha, but are you, yourself, going to be going to Europe? I know that in 
the past you've had some trouble with flying. 
NH: Well, you know, when we were with Virgin I started being like, "I wanna take 

the boat to wherever." I was like the fuhrer or whatever. But the label couldn't 

argue with me when I said "I have a psychological problem and I refuse to fly." 
What could they do? 
BB: Is it a fear of flying? 
NH: I don't like it, but I've had to do it since then. 
BB: I always thought the root of your problem was an economic/class issue. 
NH: Well, I had other reasons too. The whole thing sucks, but I'm like, you 
know, just whatever. If there's something you can do to work around it, that 
gives you a little bit of leverage. It's getting to that point now where they're 

gonna try to book a 9-week tour. And I'm just like, "No, I'm not gonna do that." 

I'm just letting it go, because we're trying to stay with the same people, Chris 

and Dan. 
BB: What about Nasta? 
NH: I don't think he's gonna be heading out with us this time. He's the number 1 

guy in Jacksonville. He plays with about 10 bands. And because of the Limp 
Bizkit and all those other bands that have come out of Jacksonville 
BB: They're getting some attention down there. 
NH: Yeah, it's like the Hot City, you know? So he's got a situation where 
everything he's doing is like... . But something came through for him, he was 
working for a producer who made fake bands, he gets kids to be the singer, but 
he uses the same musicians for everything and he just writes different songs. 
But one of these fake bands came through. So Ken's looking like he's gonna get a 

percentage of it. So he can't split. But we're like, "Yeah, you gotta do it, 
it's cool." We got 2 drummers, so we can stand to lose one. It's disappointing 
but it's reality. 
BB: What do those other guys do? Chris, Dan, and Ken? 
NH: They live down in Florida. They lived up here for a while, when we did those 

Virgin records and we toured. We were able to pay them a salary, but it all went 

for rent anyways, so it was just like, "eh." So they go and they work a little 
bit, they get some money, but we pay them good money to tour. They make more 
than they would make on their average minimum wage job. 
BB: Plus they're getting to see some cool shit. 
NH: Yeah, it's all up to them. We're not gonna be, you know, "Hey" tricking 
people into doing it for nothing. They're our friends. 
BB: I read something a long time ago that you liked Oasis. 
NH: Yeah, when I first saw them on TV, before any of those videos and before 
their first album came out here. [I think Neil's actually talking about Oasis's 
second album - Blake] It was on MTV, and in the afternoons they used to have a 
band on, and the band would just play live. 
BB: Like Hanging With MTV or whatever it was called? 
NH: I don't know, I was just flipping through the channels, and there was Oasis. 

It must have been "What's the Story (Morning Glory)" or something like that. But 

it was great. It was like the Ramones, with that kind of melody style. But then 
the record came out and it was like, "Whoosh, whoosh, the British Sound." 
NH: I always tried to champion those guys. Because it was like, who else was on 
the charts? Oasis vs. Sheryl Crow? 
BB: Exactly. 
NH: So I was gonna be like, "Oasis, man, right on." 
BB: Yeah, it's sad. Which is more...? They're huge in England, and it's cool. 
NH: They're the British Skynyrd. 
BB: Yeah, it's true. 
NH: The British Charlie Daniels Band. 
BB: That's why Americans can't relate. They're just the real British. It's like 
the Faces, I really liked them. 
NH: Every time I go to buy a Faces album, I can't find it on vinyl, and the CDs 
cost $15. I can't justify paying $15 for an album that I know is only 30 minutes 

long. 
BB: Ha ha, yeah they didn't really fill out their records. The album that's 
really great is "A Nod is as Good as a Wink." 
[more music talk, Neil brings up some album I'd never heard of] 
NH: This sounds like the Fall, except with some old guy singing. 
BB: Well, nowadays the Fall is the Fall with some old guy singing. Have you ever 

seen them play live? 
NH: Yeah, we opened up for them one time. 
BB: How was that? 
NH: Oh, it was awesome. You know, Mark E. Smith's like a hero of mine. I'm sure 
the show probably sucked but I was like, "God, this is fucking amazing!" 
BB: Nobody in America even wants to have those guys play here anymore. 
NH: Ha ha, I know, what the hell man? 
BB: There was that time the he supposedly beat up his girlfriend. 
NH: But apparently now he's "clean," man. Ha ha. 
BB: I don't want him clean. 
NH: Yeah, I heard things like, he went to his doctor and the doctor told him 
that at this point if he stops doing speed he'll die. 
BB: Really? 
NH: Well, I don't know. But that guy gets talked about a lot. He's like the uh, 
well, I don't know what his equivalent is here. 
BB: I only started listening to the Fall a couple of years ago, so I'm always 
viewing Mark E. Smith from the future perspective, of knowing what he will 
become. 
NH: Ha ha, you don't have to wait for the next record. 
BB: I don't really know what their new shit sounds like. I bought one of those 
albums that came out on Matador, I found it at Circuit City for $2. 
NH: Well there you go. Any Fall CD is definitely worth $2. He just talks and 
tells I like the way he writes. It's cool. 
BB: Yeah, I feel like the music is just a vehicle for him. The music is like 
manufactured housing. It's just blocks that the band puts together, and then 
Mark E. Smith puts himself on top of it. 
NH: Exactly man. Smith knows the formula. I have a thing with aesthetics in 
general, you know people saying "I like this versus this." 
BB: Have you ever read Kant's Critique of Judgment? 
NH: No, just the one, that Pure Reason one. 
BB: As far as aesthetic philosophy goes, Critique of Judgment is great. 
NH: I gotta get that. What I have is later stuff like that guy Marcuse. 
Negations, that's a good one. It deals with aesthetics but also ideologies. 
BB: If it weren't for Kant and Hegel, I don't know that I'd ever have been able 
to listen to Stockhausen. Not that I rock Stockhausen driving down the street 
NH: Ha ha. You'd have to buy new speakers to be able to do that. 
BB: But even something like Twin Infinitives. I don't think that album would 
have made any sense to me without my having explored different aesthetic 
theories. Just opening my mind to different ways of thinking about aesthetics. 
NH: Well that's cool. 
BB: A couple of years ago, while I was reading all that aesthetics shit, I went 
on a hunt for Twin Infinitives, but I couldn't find it anywhere. When I was 
younger, you could find it in the used bin at any record store. 
NH: We looked at our first couple of records as being records that would be 
really cool to find in used record stores five years from then. 
BB: Well, you accomplished the goal. A lot of people who hear those records, a 
real common critique is, "Whoa, these guys can't play for shit." What would you 
say to those people? What is the point in purposely playing badly? 
NH: Well, it's up to people to make up the rhythms in their minds. 
BB: It's no different than Trout Mask Replica. 
NH: My guitar teacher was the one who turned me on to Trout Mask Replica. He 
told me, "You can say this is good, or you can say this is total bullshit. It 
doesn't matter." 
BB: Do you ever feel guilty about - I mean, you're playing 12-tone Western rock 
music. 
NH: Yeah, well, we don't think so. 
BB: Well, what is it then that you're playing? 
NH: Well, it's sort of, depth... 
BB: I'm not criticizing Royal Trux, but I'm just curious. 
NH: You gotta think of it, like, somebody from another culture covering that 
music. That's always how we approach it. But with the guitar set up the way it 
is, and the things that get in the way It's just like the harmolodic approach. 
That's a big big thing for us. 
BB: I've got this quote here where you say, "Harmolodics is my only social, 
moral framework. Everything I do is in relationship with a billion fragmented 
lines through time. Rather than control the things I understand, I like to leave 

them free to develop as they will." 
NH: Then you push... Then with the music, you just deal with sound, whatever. 
It's true, it's just like a cool - 
BB: I understand what you're saying there, and I agree with it, as far as the 
connections between everything that I do versus what everyone else does, well, 
not versus, but in concert with. 
NH: Along side of, or simultaneously. 
BB: Can one infer that everything that Royal Trux does is a culmination of 
everything behind them? 
NH: Yeah, but Royal Trux intersects rock n roll as a commercial venture. It's 
like the conjunction of planes, or however you want to say it. So we like to 
push one way. But all of a sudden it comes time to make a record and put it out 
and to tour and do interviews, so there's all these freeflowing things going. 
And at a certain time it has to intersect with a set system. That's when it 
turns into what it is, which is interesting for us. It's like fun or something. 
BB: How does harmolodics relate to the future? 
NH: Well, that's the thing. It's the future letting itself come as you try to, 
say... Like when you look at the stock market, everyone bases the future on 
analyzing the past. A very linear method, very standard. So the opposite of that 

is to let it go, to let things exist as they are in the present, and then let 
them combine themselves. In Royal Trux, everyone's always putting in their 
influence. It's not a musical system if somebody's thinking something, one time, 

but if somebody has an ego spasm in the middle of a song and pushes it one way, 
it's interesting. And then we get to listen to it all, and it can jump from 
points in time, in a way that you couldn't figure out based upon the past or 
even just based upon going nuts. 
BB: Speaking of the stocks, I heard that you and Jennifer play the stock market.
NH: We did for a while. It was cool, because we bought in when the Dow Jones was 

down at 5,000. We sold a bunch of stuff recently and just put the money away. We 

got some money from Virgin, and we, figuring, "This is all the money we'll ever 
get, ever," we started a bunch of IRA's and shit. So all we can do is just hang 
until we're 70. But we're definitely in a better position than we were. 
BB: Could you apply the harmolodic theory to how you, in particular, approached 
your finances? 
JH: Probably, yeah, but I didn't do it though. Jennifer did it, because she's 
like, more We read the Wall Street Journal, put stuff in the computer randomly. 
It's kinda stupid, like something you'd read in the Utne Reader or something. 
BB: Everyone wants to see that as so ironic, "Royal Trux playing the stock 
market? Ha ha! What the hell happened to them? Remember back in the day when 
they used to be living on the streets?" 
NH: "Totally, dude." Yeah, right. 
BB: Did you ever do any day trading? 
NH: Oh, no way. I'm too busy to do that. It takes up all your time. 
BB: I just recently came into a bit of money, money that I wasn't expecting to 
have last week, and that I wasn't expecting to have next week. I could afford to 

lose it. I was thinking about day trading with it, just buying some cheap IPO 
and seeing what happens. 
JH: Maybe if you could take a day, and just set yourself a minimum amount. You 
know, I was shocked when we got our money, and our having ownership of things. 
Our lives changed so much. I was anti-capitalism, you know, what I understood 
about it I got through reading Balzac and stuff like that. So actually going 
through a capitalist process Maybe if you lose $500 day trading, somehow, in 
the end, you'll end up opening all these other doors and eventually profiting 
from it. But if you play Lotto with it, or do one of these kind of Bourgeois 
things, then you don't get anywhere. You just go in a circle. 
BB: I actually won some money off some Virginia Scratch-Offs, just recently. 
NH: Ha ha, alright. Did you just run across the border? 
BB: No, I was on my way home from school and I stopped at the same 7-11 in 
Harrisonburg that I always stop at. I bought the Scratch-Offs on a lark, and I 
won $10. 
NH: Wow, right out of the mouths of 
BB: Being as opposed to capitalist culture as you are, how do rectify Royal 
Trux's existence as a product of capitalist culture? 
NH: Well, I don't feel really hypocritical. I sleep really well at night. When 
we make our records, and they intersect the system at a certain way, we 
understand how it works. We just don't exploit things, you know? That's the main 

thing. If we're supposed to be junkies, then we'll get clean. And if we're 
supposed to be one kind of thing, then we'll show up with a different kind of 
band. As long as we keep doing that, then I'll feel alright. But it's a classic, 

it's like La Boheme, that whole artist shit, fuck that. You can create culture 
any kind of way, but if it stands against something it's still within a system, 
as far as we're concerned. You know, you'll find things, it'll be like this 
rush, like an underground kind of thing. I remember Pure magazine had this 
thing And our first record was like that, people treated it that way. And that 
whole system is shit, it's kinda like capitalist ventilation, you know, 
excrement. Where people look at one thing and they kind of get to escape 
briefly. That whole worshipping of savants. If we can piss of a few of those 
people, then I feel like we've done our jobs. If only the Dead had done that. 
BB: The people who are into it, with IT being YOU, or... 
NH: What they think IT is. 
BB: Or what they expect you to be. 
NH: Yeah, that's the thing. If they're really into it, then they're really not 
that into it, because then they know, they know like You cross paths, 
sometimes Like we're always gonna be around, just like the Dead. We're 
something reliable. Just like Saltines. 
BB: Royal Trux. Zesta. 
NH: You don't think about it, but occasionally there comes that day when IT is 
like a box of crackers. 
BB: There are a lot of people who want to say that when you came back off Virgin 

with Accelerator, that Accelerator was raw sounding, and intentionally so, just 
to appease the older fans who were put off by the Virgin albums. But I always 
thought that Accelerator was extremely produced. The intentional production 
style was very evident. 
NH: It was really produced. Accelerator took longer to make than Sweet 16. And 
we didn't even mix Sweet 16, we sent that out, so it was mixed in a very short 
period of time. 
BB: Didn't you use that Collective Soul remix man? 
NH: Yeah, that was the whole thing. We wanted to show the record company that we 

were like, following rules. We actually thought Sweet 16 was a great selection, 
because it was rock, or what people thought was rock, and the guy who mixed it 
was the engineer on Thank You, so he was definitely, well he wasn't giving us a 
deal, but if we wanted him to remix something he would do it. So we go to the 
label with the album, and they didn't even know who the guy was. But we knew 
that we got a guy who was at the peak of his profession, and his price has 
tripled since then. 
BB: But the people who see Accelerator as raw, do they just not know? 
NH: I don't know. That's not my problem. That's their problem. There's so many 
things that we just don't think about, because it's just like dipping your hand 
in a bucket of maggots. Most of the mail that we get is cool, but occasionally 
we'll get some really weird thing. You know, we've had some incidents of people 
following us. But we have to deal with it, because we put ourselves in that 
position. 
BB: I guess that's the rock n roller lifestyle. Does the way that Accelerator 
relates to the 1980s, does that have anything to do with the heavyhanded 
production of the album? 
NH: The sound of the album is kind of a real separation of things. We tried to 
take it in that direction and then bring it back. Like, the filter of the 80s. 
We wrestled with it in our studio. We have certain limitations imposed upon the 
whole thing based on the concept that we had. It was that 3 record thing too, 
which we just sort of obeyed. It was just lucky too, because the response was 
really good. Especially in England. But you know, Primal Scream did a song 
called Accelerator after us, but the recording's just got like, digital 
distortion, which is pretty stupid of them. 
BB: Is that why you called your song, "Accelerator (The Original)"? 
NH: Yeah yeah. Plus, on the New York Dolls album, there's that song 
"Frankenstein (The Original)". So it was double homage. 
BB: What do you think about that new Primal Scream? 
NH: I guess it's fine with me, especially if there's people who are like, maybe 
they'd never heard of us or wouldn't have given us a second thought, but then 
now they're like, "Royal Trux is an interesting band." Because we get a lot of 
mileage out of that. Sonic Youth did that for us for a while. 
BB: Nirvana too. 
NH: Yeah, he did. We're just not the type of people who are gonna be like 
BB: Publicity hounds. 
NH: Well, we are in a way, but we don't do it correctly, I suppose. We try to be 

more honest. 
BB: But that's not the proper channel. 
NH: Well, we know better. But that's just like what I was saying about the 
capitalist thing. We feel good about what we do, and it's stupid for us to 
impose things on ourselves where we'd be suffering needlessly in some kind of 
semi-bourgeois way. 
BB: To be a monk just for the sake of being a monk. 
NH: We're perfectly able-bodied. 
BB: There's no need to ride around in wheelchairs just to make the other people 
riding around in wheelchairs feel better about themselves. 
NH: Until your time comes. 
BB: Have you had any contact with those Primal Scream guys? 
NH: Uh, I think so. Maybe we met them once. In England, we might definitely be 
into having one of them, or their producer produce one of our songs. 
BB: They've been using that My Bloody Valentine man, I think Kevin Shields is 
actually playing guitar with them now. I found their album really cheap, for 
like $5, so I bought it to see if I could hear this purported Royal Trux 
influence. I can't really hear it, but the album itself is not so so terrible. I 

don't hate it. 
NH: That's all I can say about anything. "Well, this album didn't make me puke, 
so that's a good thing." That's just about where I've always been. 
BB: That Bobby Gillespie, their singer, he's almost 40 years old now. 
NH: Really? 
BB: Yeah. And if he's just now finding out about Can, and he's just now starting 

to put these wannabe Can pastiches on his albums 
NH: Where's the rest of the world been? He must have just been listening to 
British radio. 
BB: He should turn on John Peel's show at least. 
NH: We did like 3 John Peel sessions. 
BB: Didn't Royal Trux issue a Peel Sessions 7"? 
NH: No, that was a bootleg. 
BB: It's always for sale on ebay, with the disclaimer, "Royal Trux issued this." 

NH: No, we have no idea who did that. We always expected it was somebody at our 
record label, either in England or Chicago, but they never came clean about it. 
It's cool. I remember there was a great Butthole Surfers 7 bootleg of a Peel 
Session. 
BB: There's one song on your Peel Session bootleg that's not on Singles, Live, 
Unreleased. 
NH: Oh, it's like, "Edge of the Ape Oven" redone? 
BB: I don't remember. 
NH: When we got signed, somebody was going around saying that Royal Trux was a 
band that the label put together, kinda like the Monkees of alternative rock. 
That was cracking me up, I was like, "That's great." I don't know who started 
that, but somebody said it might have been Thurston. 
BB: Do you ever communicate with Sonic Youth anymore? 
NH: Whenever we play in New York, maybe every other time they'll come by. They 
helped us out a lot at the beginning, which was cool. 
BB: Sometimes you'll read where Thurston has said something's great, but then 5 
years later he'll just dismiss it. 
NH: I don't read any of that shit anymore. 
BB: I think a lot of people have the perception that Thurston Moore is obsolete. 

If he wanted to be Lou Reed, he's not gonna be. 
NH: No. But that job's taken. Ha ha. 
BB: It seems like Sonic Youth have kept an increasingly low profile, and maybe 
that's not what they want. 
NH: Well, you know they're opening up for Pearl Jam soon. That's a good gig. 
BB: It works out well for Pearl Jam and Sonic Youth. If Pearl Jam is seen with 
Sonic Youth, all the better for Pearl Jam. Sonic Youth's reputation is fairly 
well cemented, and people know that they have kids to feed. Did you ever read 
any of those Sonic Youth biographies that came out? 
NH: I don't read that shit. The music section of the bookstore, I never go into 
it. 
BB: What about Legs McNeil's Please Kill Me? 
NH: Oh yeah, Jennifer has that. But I just can't read that shit anymore, man. 
After like, 1991, rock writing is just noise to me. The only thing I can read 
is, I have this Robert Christgau guide to records in the 1970s. That's the only 
music book I read, besides like essays by Busoni or something like that. The 
classical music guys, I can read that. Jazz biographies, I can't read that shit. 

It's just myth making, errors, and shit. 
BB: Did you see Velvet Goldmine? 
NH: Oh god, yeah - 
BB: Thought that thing was the culmination of all the worst bullshit. 
NH: Yeah, I was like, "Why did I watch this?" What was so infuriating was that I 

just think about, for people who don't know anything about Lou Reed or Iggy Pop, 

that movie is just a total scam. 
BB: Have you watched the Ziggy Stardust video, of the last concert? 
NH: Yeah I did watch that, it was weird. There's that one point where he's 
looking around, and he's got that big dot on his head, and he's doing a chicken 
thing with his neck. He's bobbing his head. It's just really bizarre. I had 
Aladdin Sane, right, but I had a reissue that didn't have a gatefold. And I was 
talking to somebody and I was saying, "Oh, that album's great," and they were 
saying it sucked. And they pulled out the original copy and it had the gatefold, 

and he put that down on the floor and opened up the gatefold and I was like, 
"What the hell is that?" And it's supposed to be some kind of androgynous 
genie-thing, and I was like, "Look man, all of my album covers are in a pile 
over here and the records are over there, I have no idea. I just listen to the 
songs." 
BB: I can't listen to Aladdin Sane too much because I think that piano shit is 
really fruity. 
NH: Yeah, ha ha. A lot of that sounds like it was done at a later time. 
BB: It sounds like Bowie just told some guy, "Uh, put some piano on it." 
NH: "Some other day maybe." I just heard that song "Under Pressure," that Queen 
did with David Bowie. That was awesome. I hadn't heard that in a long time. 
BB: I just downloaded that off the internet. Have you done any of that Napster 
shit? 
NH: I haven't done it, but we put some mp3 files up on our website. We have a 
slow connection. 
BB: How do you feel about Napster? 
NH: I don't know. If it starts to hurt us in some way, I probably won't like it. 

BB: Are you aware of the Royal Trux email list? 
NH: No. 
BB: There is such a thing. But "Under Pressure," that's got some real rocking 
drums. 
NH: Yeah, it's just all these parts edited together. 
BB: In that respect, it's appropriate that Vanilla Ice would have sampled it, 
being that it's a bunch of components. 
NH: Hey, I have to run man, I just noticed that it's past 6:00. 
BB: Okay, thanks a lot. 

Royal Trux Interview
by Matt Ellis
www.unpop.com
June 2000
Royal Trux are way too cool for school.
As the hands down winners of the Class of the 1980's "Most likely to show up 
late for graduation" and "Least Likely to Succeed" awards, Jennifer Herrema 
and Neil Hagerty's Royal Trux is possibly the only band to emerge from that 
decade with a shred of integrity intact. Snatched up in hopes of being the 
next Sonic Youth or Nirvana by Virgin in 95, Royal Trux recorded two 
completely unmarketable skuzzy ass rock gems in Thank You and Sweet Sixteen 
only to be spit back out and resigned to their unconditionally loving pals at 
the mighty Drag City. Touring on the heels of the tauntingly polished Pound of 
Pound, the Royal Trux brand of raunchy blue collar rock n' roll will strut, 
snarl, bark, and croon at a rock show near you. I had a chance to talk to 
Jennifer about her brief stint as a Calvin Klein model, drag racing, guns, and 
lots of other real swell stuff:
Jennifer Herrema: Hold on a sec. I have to open this package.
Unpop: Unpop: Oh Oh! What is it?
JH: I was thinking. I was hoping..that it was a contract that I was waiting on 
but it's from some British fashion magazine that wants to do some British 
fashion thing.
Unpop: You still do ads?
JH: Um. No. I don't. But I guess they were...pitching me.
Unpop: How did the whole Calvin Klein thing come about?
JH: That shit?
Unpop: Was it just for the fuck of it?
JH: For me? For the fuck of it? No. It was for the money.
Unpop: Ha!
JH: Oh, for sure. But I was asked because I just...looked right. You know. And 
the photographer knew my history and basically it was me or someone he was 
going to make look like me and the money was reeeealy good. It was different 
than the stuff that is going on now, there was no relationship between the ads 
and my name or the name of the band.
Unpop: Yeah, I saw an ad, I think it was a actually a Calvin Klein ad, with 
the guy from Korn the other day, that was just HUGE on Houston and Broadway in 
New York. Probably 50 feet across.
JH: Oh yeah. There's tons of shit like that that, you know? Calvin Klein ads 
are just like all about that whole rock star by association. Calvin Klein is 
associating the product by the band name. It's kind of crazy really.
Unpop: So how's the house?
JH: Oh the house? The house is really good! Its totally clean right now. 
Because we had all these British people fly over the day before yesterday to 
do interviews and photo shoots and...Fuck...Fuck...I can 't believe how clean 
this fucking house is. It's cleeean.
Unpop: Wow. Have any pets?
JH: Pets? Oh yeah, I have like three indoor cats and a bunch of outdoor cats 
that, you know I wave and nod at but I don't name because they come and go so 
quick. You know there's just too much out there and they get killed.
Unpop: Oh yeah I was all psyched to let my cat out last summer. It was kind of 
in the country and I got her all the right shots but the vet warned me against 
it because..she'd just die.
JH: A lot of people do but I think its just got to be like a different type of 
relationship. I mean, I like couldn't...stand it if my cats got, mauled by a 
fox.
Unpop: Or got by a dog or by a car. Do you have any guns?
JH: Yeah, we have a couple. Well, its not like there are any real police 
around.
Unpop: So is it more for sport or for defense?
JH: Well we got them, and I used to shoot, I used to shoot at rifle ranges a 
lot when I was a kid. Went through all the ranks. Marksman, marksman first 
class. But that was like with rifles. But on our land I don't like to shoot 
because our land is like the one place the deer and all come because they know 
they're not going to get shot at.... Because everyone else around when it is 
that time is "Boom Boom Boom." You hear the shots constantly. But I haven't 
shot the rifle for a while. We have a hand gun and that's...that's just so 
different. Its not at all like a rifle because you don't have the same 
control.
Unpop: Where are you from?
JH: I was born in DC but for summer they would send me off to a bunch of 
friends, to the country, to get rid of us. There's a lot of ranges out here. 
In Little Washington.
Unpop: That's adorable. Little Washington?
JH: Yeah, its like a little fort town.
Unpop: Do you guys get any shit from the neighbors?
JH: Oh no.
Unpop: Everyone pretty much minds their own business and does there own thing?
JH: Yeah. I've lived out here for 5 years and I still don't know anybody but 
I, we all, nod our heads, give a wave. Its no big deal.
Unpop: You built a studio out there right?
JH: Yeah. Its sort of an extension off the house. There's like a wing, and the 
house is...weird, and big, and strangely shaped. There was this sort of wing 
off to a part of the house that had a bedroom and a living room and a bathroom 
and it had a loft room and stuff so we just tore every thing out and emptied 
it. And now its a studio.
Unpop: Was that with the Virgin money?
JH: Yeah yeah. Everything that was ever, financially, ever happened with money 
is with Virgin's money. We didn't really have any money before that.
Unpop: How's life at Drag City?
JH: Drag City is great.
Unpop: Who are you playing with on the new album?
JH: It's our band. It's the Thank You band it's the Sweet Sixteen band, 
partial Accellerator band, and the Pound for Pound band.
Unpop: And you're all touring together?
JH: Yeah yeah. I'm trying to figure this all out. (sigh) June 14th to July 5th 
is the East Coast and July 14th to August 2nd is the West Coast. Then August 
9th to the 14th is Japan and then August 17th through October 7th is Europe, 
then after that, its supposed to be Australia. I've got to consider this. I 
might have to talk to Europe about scaling back a bit and the only reason they 
extended it beyond five weeks was there was a lot of places like Greece and 
Prague that we've never been to.
Unpop: You should definitely go to Greece and Prague. Those are the two places 
in Europe that I've been that had the biggest lasting impression on me. 
Especially Greece.
JH: Yeah, I'd love to go to Greece. We were offered to go to Maorka but we had 
tp turn it down because it was just a prop plane situation. So we're trying to 
get it together.
Unpop: Neil's not real big on flying?
JH: I just think he's not into it at all. It makes things too accessable. Too 
easy. Im not sure what his fucking thinking is...
Unpop: Well it does seem that things that big shouldn't really be flying in 
the air anyway. It doesn't seem right to me. Off the topic...how'd you meet 
Neil?
JH: Oh, a long time ago. Basically I just met him. I went to go see a 
show, this guy I kind of knew was in a band and asked me to like "Come see our 
band play and I went...and you know, I had seen a lot of music. This was like 
when I was 15 and even when I was like a little kid my dad was taking me to 
shows and I had seen a lot of music by that time, all sorts of music, and I 
went to see the band, and Neil was singing in front, playing guitar and it was 
like "Alright man, I gotta meet this guy." So I just hung out around there 
with him and then one day someone brought over a sheet of acid and I was there 
for about 5 days and the 2 of us were just like tripping our asses off and we 
just kind of became one molecule.
Unpop: Its hard to explain but it's definitely a way to achieve perspective on 
things.
JH: Yeah.
Unpop: Down to the lowest common denominator.
JH: A molecule!
Unpop: Yeah.
JH: One molecule.
Unpop: One of those little single cell guys.
JH: Yeah.


Interview with Jennifer Herrema
Cargo!
June 2000
[Text entirely in French] 

Meme si nous n'avons vraiment pas aime le maxi Waterpark on ne reste pas 
indifferent face a un groupe aussi entier et independant que les Royal Trux... 
Une rencontre avec la chanteuse du groupe est un drole de moment... 
Impressionnante, c'est le moins que l'on puisse dire, elle reste d'une 
gentillesse incroyable devant mon anglais plus qu'approximatif et repond avec 
humour a toutes nos questions, meme quand on ne parle plus musique... 
Cargo!: Que s'est il passe entre le single Waterpark et l'album Pound for 
Pound... Cela n'a pas grand chose a voir, est ce le meme groupe qui a fait les 
deux ? 
Royal Trux: Oui, c'est bien le meme groupe! C'est une approche completement 
differente: nous n'avons jamais fait deux albums semblables, c'est trop 
ennuyeux. Pound for Pound a ete enregistre en 4 jours, on a voulu faire passer 
le son que nous avons sur scene. C'est la raison pour laquelle le son est plus 
brut, spontane. Waterpark et d'autres morceaux sur Veterans & Desorder [sic] ont 

ete travailles titre par titre sur un 24x32 pistes: on peut revenir a un 
morceaux, effacer, ajouter, "empiler". Le resultat final est en surface tangible 

et sense mais de par cet "empilage" de sons et le travail de production, il se 
peut qu'a chaque nouvelle ecoute tu decouvres un detail que tu n'avais pas 
entendu auparavant. Comme celui-ci est en quelque sorte une illustration de ce 
que nous sommes sur scene - bien que cela ne soit pas un album live - tous les 
morceaux principaux ont ete enregistres d'une seule traite, comme si on les 
jouait pendant un concert. Nous n'avons rien efface, rien retire. Quand on 
n'aimait pas le resultat, on recommencait tout du debut. C'est pour ca que ces 
deux albums ont des sons tres differents. 
Cargo!: Pound for Pound est votre dixieme album, n'est ce pas (plus des mini 
album et des remix)? Tout cela en un peu plus de 10 ans. Pourquoi ce rythme? 
Avez vous beaucoup de chansons en stock ? 
Royal Trux: Non, Pound for Pound est notre neuvieme album. On a fait neuf albums 

en onze ans. On est tout le temps en train d'ecrire de nouveaux morceaux. Ca 
coule de source pour nous, je suppose qu'on peut dire qu'on est naturellement 
faits pour ca, cela ne nous est jamais difficile. Aussi, nous sommes les seuls 
maitres de nos emplois du temps, on fait ce qu'on veut. Tu vois, je pense que 
pour beaucoup de groupes, quand ils commencent a jouer ensemble, la musique est 
un moyen d'arriver a leur fin. Par consequent, plus cela fait longtemps qu'ils 
sont ensemble plus leur desir de decrocher un hit, ou au moins la reconnaissance 

du public, grandit. Les annees passees a atteindre ce but ne sont que plans 
marketing et autres plannings de sorties et tournees, etc... des trucs abstraits 

qui au final ne changent absolument rien. Nous on ne fait pas de plans sur la 
comete, tout comme nous pensons que nos fans n'en font pas pour nous non plus. 
Quand on enregistre Pound for Pound, ils savent qu'on ne recommencera pas une 
deuxieme fois, que le prochain album sera different. Ils savent tout ca. 
Certaines personnes preferent ou aiment moins tel ou tel album, mais au final 
c'est toujours du Royal Trux, ca fait partie d'un tout. 
Cargo!: Vous avez la reputation d'etre tres integre dans votre travail? Etes 
vous d'accord? Est ce un combat de tous les jours ou le seul moyen de faire les 
choses pour vous? 
Royal Trux: En fait, on a toujours procede de cette maniere, ca a toujours ete 
comme ca. On a pas besoin de pression. Travailler sous pression ca peut aussi 
etre tres stimulant mais nous on ne subit aucune pression pour faire quoi que ce 

soit. On a pas besoin de fric, on fait juste ce que l'on aime. 
Cargo!: Est ce toujours les memes musiciens qui vus accompagnent en studio ou en 

tournee? Comment les choisissez vous? 
Royal Trux: Neil et moi ecrivons toutes les chansons ensemble. Depuis le debut, 
il y a onze ans, il y a eu un roulement de musiciens qui ont joue avec nous. Les 

musiciens sur Pound for Pound jouent avec nous tres regulierement depuis un bout 

de temps en fait. Ce sont les plus flexibles et les plus competents de tous ceux 

avec qui nous avons joue. Les possibilites avec le groupe tel qu'il est 
aujourd'hui sont presque sans limites. Alors on reste ensemble jusqu'a ce que 
cela ne fonctionne plus. On est un groupe, on reste ensemble. Et bien sur on 
tournera avec ce line-up. 
Cargo!: Travaillez vous juste a deux ou avec un producteur? 
Royal Trux: Non, nous produisons tout nous meme. On a fait appel a un producteur 

sur un seul album parmi tous ceux qu'on a enregistres. C'etait David Briggs, tu 
connais? Il a produit les premiers Neil Young, Easy Action d'Alice Cooper, il a 
aussi produit Spirit et 12 Genes & Doctor Sardonic. C'est un type fabuleux, il a 

produit cet album pour nous peu de temps avant sa mort. Sinon, on a produit tous 

les autres nous meme. On fait aussi pas mal de production pour d'autres groupes. 

Il y a plein de producteurs formidables, des tonnes. Mais quand on fait appel a 
un producteur, il devient un mentor du groupe et on doit faire des... Je ne veux 

pas dire compromis, mais en tous cas des revisions dans notre vision du projet, 
parce qu'il y a ce mentor supplementaire du groupe et son job de former et 
d'organiser les chansons de l'album dans son ensemble et c'est un truc qu'on 
adore faire nous meme. Mais il y a beaucoup de producteurs tres interessants et 
avec lesquels il serait genial de travailler, mais cela ne vaut pas le coup de 
depenser 60000$, du temps et de faire l'effort puisque nous sommes aussi 
producteurs. On vient de finir de produire un album super important pour un 
groupe de dreamworks, 8 semaines en studio - c'est long - c'etait super et tres 
stimulant. On a aussi produit le dernier album de Delta 72 et le dernier Brother 

JT, le dernier Make Up ou le dernier Palace Brothers. On a fait beaucoup de 
travail de production, on se considere comme producteur aussi. Alors l'idee 
d'avoir quelqu'un d'autre aux commandes, c'est tres excitant et je suis sure 
qu'un jour on le fera. Ca fera partie du tout, mais pas tout de suite. 
Cargo!: Experimentez vous beaucoup en studio ou est ce deja tres ecrit? 
Royal Trux: Oui, Neil et moi ecrivons les chansons ensemble: je joue au piano, 
j'improvise, je chante des bouts, j'ecris des paroles et colle des melodies 
dessus, il ecrit et il trouve des melodies, c'est un echange de vases 
communicants. Les paroles c'est ce qu'il y a de plus important. Chaque morceau 
traite d'un sujet different, faut te les faire traduire par quelqu'un... ca ne 
parle pas de nous precisement mais cela vient directement de nos propres 
experiences. On parle de choses que l'on connait, qu'on a vecues. Oui, c'est le 
contexte qui est tres vivant, comme tout contexte humain... j'veux dire un 
humain bien vivant, pas un mort! Nos paroles proviennent de nos experiences 
personnelles mais elles ne sont pas ecrites afin de manipuler les personnes que 
les entendent, afin qu'il ressentent des sensations precises, comme la 
melancolie, la tristesse, la joie. Elles ne sont pas sensees influencer qui que 
ce soit. C'est pas evident de dire exactement ce que tu veux et d'etre juste, 
sans imposer une emotion. Ca fait partie de la tache. 
Cargo!: Avez vous fait une video pour Pound for Pound ? 
Royal Trux: On en fait pas de clips video. On a joue dans des films et si... On 
a fait deux videos, deux amis a nous qui ont realise des videos passant de temps 

en temps sur MTV, ils les ont realisees pour nous. Mais on ne depense ni argent, 

ni temps, ni effort a faire des mini-films qui representent ce qu'une chanson 
devrait arriver a faire passer sans. J'adore utiliser l'art pour presenter 
chaque album, mais en ce qui concerne l'image du groupe on est plutot bigarre 
comme bande, on vient d'un peu partout, il n'y a pas "d'uniforme". 
Cargo!: Je crois que tu peins aussi? 
Royal Trux: Oui, je peins. J'ai peint Accelerator, je ne sais pas si tu connais 
cet album, j'ai peint notre coffret, j'ai peint notre album Cats and Dogs, 
l'album Thank You aussi et j'ai fait tous les dessins pour notre album Twin 
Infinitive. Je fais plein de choses de ce genre pour notre musique. 
Cargo!: Qu'aimes tu en peinture ? 
Royal Trux: J'aime tous les peintres, je pense que, s'il faut choisir, 
[impossible de comprendre le nom] est l'un de mes peintres preferes. Bien que ce 

que je fais moi ne ressemble en rien a quoi que ce soit, mais quelque part je 
ressens un affinite avec son travail, c'est vraiment l'un de mes preferes. Susan 

Rockberg - j'aime aussi les vieux trucs aussi comme Delacroix, c'est plus 
decadent, et j'adore enormement de choses chez Picasso, Rosenberg j'adore aussi 
- enfin tout ca ce sont des noms habituels - mais ce sont de tres belles choses 
que j'aime regarder. En ce moment j'ai une artiste que j'adore, elle s'appelle 
Rita Ackerman - Elle est de new york. Je lui ai envoye plusieurs peintures que 
j'avais et elle les a reuni en une seule pour le dos de la pochette de Pound for 

Pound. C'est une artiste geniale. 
Cargo!: Et tu t'interesses a d'autres formes d'art? 
Royal Trux: J'adore la photographie. Oui, j'aime l'art nouveau, c'est abstrait 
comme Christople qui fait des trucs barres que j'adore. J'adore l'oeil qu'a un 
photographe, plus encore que la photo papier en elle meme. Tout est dans cet 
oeil, dans le regard pour moi. Il y a des photographes qui sont connus depuis 
longtemps, mais moi j'aime vraiment Tony Richardson, Nen Golden [sic]... Royal 
Trux a un photographe dans son staff, elle s'appelle Nina Govayan. Elle fait 
beaucoup d'expos, ses photos sont geniales. 
Cargo!: J'ai vu une expo au musee d'art moderne de Paris et il y a avait une 
illustration sonore, aimerais tu faire cela avec la musique de Royal Trux? 
Royal Trux: Oui, je ne connais personne ayant fait ca. Il y a une artiste de 
Londres, Elyzabeth Peyton, j'ai vu une emission de tele qui lui etait consacree, 

et elle utilise notre musique comme fond sonore. En fait, j'en connais un autre, 

Steve Keen qui a fait plein de peintures de Neil & moi & aussi des peintures 
abstraites inspirees de chansons a nous. En fait, pleins d'artistes nous 
envoient des trucs par la poste des dessins, des collages, plein de collages. 
Cargo!: Pourriez vous creer a partir d'une oeuvre d'art existante comme source 
d'inspiration? 
Royal Trux: A ma connaissance, dans mon enfance, la reference pour moi proche de 

ce concept, c'est Andy Warhol et le Velvet Underground. Il y a aussi un groupe a 

new york, le No Neck Blues Band qui travaille de cette facon. Pleins de groupes 
essaient d'imposer ce genre de chose autour de leur musique afin de la 
developper a plus grande echelle. Mais je ne sais pas faire apparaitre sous une 
image plus large. Je ne sais pas si ces melanges sont toujours opportuns, ca 
peut etre bien comme ca peut etre nul... enfin pas nul, mais pas toujours 
reussi. Le melange n'est pas toujours reussi, enfin c'est une opinion 
subjective, personnelle... 
Cargo!: Votre musique est largement influence par blues ? 
Royal Trux: Oui, c'est influence par le blues, mais aussi par Augusto Pablo, 
Billy Caughvan, aussi un peu de live experience de Miles Davies [sic], les 
nouveaux orchestres de John McLaughlin & Miles Davies [sic], ce genre de choses. 

La musique electronique? The mood or the moog? Le moog etait un de nos 
principaux instruments en 1989, quand personne ne l'utilisait. C'etait ringard. 
On la utilise sur un morceau sur 7 inch, en 1993. Une chanson dansante, pleine 
de samples mais aussi de guitare live... c'est un morceau genial, je l'adore, je 

l'adore... 
Cargo!: Est ce facile pour vous d'ecrire? 
Royal Trux: Oui, c'est facile d'ecrire. Faut juste pas trop penser, a moins que 
tu veuilles faire dans le cerebral et decortiquer, c'est e toi de choisir. Mais 
pour ce qui est des sujets sur lesquels ecrire, il y en a toujours. 
Cargo!: Vous avez enregistre Pound for Pound tres rapidement, un peu comme 
l'album de Neil Young avec les Pearl Jam... 
Royal Trux: Oui, en 4 jours. Je connais cet album de Neil Young avec les Pearl 
Jam, il est genial, tres immediat... brut et different! Tu vois, enregistrer un 
album et jouer live sont deux choses carrement differentes. Alors quand tu fais 
un album qui se veut etre une illustration de ce qu'est un groupe live, des fois 

il est percu comme plus immediat et stimulant parce que jouer live, c'est comme 
ca! Alors qu'un album enregistre instrument par instrument, piste par piste a 
tendance a etre percu comme plus profond, plus intense... 

LowBlueFlame.com [Summer 2000]
"Interview with Jennifer Herrema" by Travis Jeppesen
The entity known as Royal Trux was officially born when 15-year-old Jennifer 
Herrema met a young guitarist named Neil Hagerty in Washington, D.C. in 1985. 
The two paired off almost immediately and moved to New York a couple of years 
later, Herrema to attend the New School for Social Research in Greenwich 
Village, Hagerty to join the anti-hardcore trash band Pussy Galore. It was in 
New York that the two began composing music on their own, at first simple 
minimalistic compositions, which eventually grew into multi-layered blasts of 
sonic frequencies. 
Once Neil quit Pussy Galore, the Trux removed themselves from the limelight that 
New York inevitably sheds (with one self-released album under their belts, as 
well as an advance from Matador for a record they never got around to 
recording), heading west where they attained outlaw status in support of a nasty 
habit. In a rare early interview, Jennifer spoke openly about working as a 
stripper, and when Neil was asked how he supported himself, casually replied, 
"breaking and entering." But the Trux also proved during the San Francisco years 
that they were more than just delinquent junkies with the classic double LP, 
"Twin Infinitives." The Trux unveiled a semiology of their own invention, 
forging a new logic in what was sort of a rock n roll interpretation of jazz 
musician Ornette Coleman's theory of harmolodics (competing frequencies of 
sound.) The layering effects of guitar filtered and funneled, synthesized 
weirdness, and dead air competed with the detached voices of Neil's warbling 
sci-fi paranoia and Jennifer's spaced-out, indecipherable grumbles. The effect 
is akin to two parallel, yet totally separate poles of thought polyvocalized 
onward into forever, yet deftly executed, giving it a symphonic feel, a metonymy 
creating an equilibrium between chaos and order. 
The Trux musical style is inimitable, consistent only in that it sounds 
drastically different from album to album, while their lyrics tend to cover 
incomprehensible territories, what Beckett called the unnameable, whether 
reaching into the depths of the mundane or carrying on an important conversation 
about no one in particular. The third, untitled, album painted a mellower, but 
no less intense landscape, while "Cats and Dogs" can easily be regarded as one 
of the best efforts floating about in the grunge-polluted waters of the mid-90s. 
The best introduction to early Trux is probably the 3-LP "Singles" collection, 
which showcases a wide range of rock experimentation. 
In 1995, Royal Trux were signed to Virgin for a three album deal, after Neil and 
Jennifer re-wrote the contract according to their own terms (supposedly, they 
even demanded fur coats as part of the deal.) Trux ended up putting out only two 
of the three records, "Thank You"; and "Sweet Sixteen"; the latter they built 
their own studio at home to produce themselves, a practice they've stuck with 
pretty much since the very beginning. Virgin was reportedly unhappy with the 
outcome of "Sweet Sixteen"; yet Trux was legally required to get paid for their 
next record, according to the contract. When Virgin asked to hear the record 
first, the Trux refused, so Virgin ended up having to pay them for a record that 
they never put out. 
The record in question, "Accelerator,"; released on former label Drag City, was 
arguably their most speaker-scarring solid rock effort to date. The excellent 
"Veterans of Disorder"; preceded their last record. It was around this time that 
Neil published his first novel, "Victory Chimp"; a bewildering sci-fi adventure 
detailing the ape protagonist's conquest of the almighty villain Chon with 
sidekick Occula. Jennifer kept busy during these years, as well, modeling for 
Calvin Klein, painting, and designing jewelry. Both have contributed writings to 
magazines and have compiled a mind-boggling website www.royaltrux.com. 
The following interview with Jennifer was conducted in the summer of 2000, right 
after Royal Trux canceled their world tour amidst rumors of a drug relapse (the 
pair had been chemical-free for several years.) Later on in the year, Jennifer 
went into rehab and Neil put out a solo album, announcing that Royal Trux was no 
more, although rumors have been floating that another record is in the tins. 
Unlike a lot of great rock bands that tend to go on past their primes, the Trux 
showed that they still have juice flowing through them on their last album, the 
summer masterpiece "Pound for Pound." It would be a shame if they quit now, 
while they're still ahead of everyone else, but there's no real way of 
predicting what will happen. Neil and Jennifer have always defied expectations 
in their no-bullshit approach to getting things done, refusing to compromise 
their integrity in allegiance to any established system of thought. Inarguably, 
the Trux's finest achievement is the development of their own set of peculiar 
aesthetics which they've etched out with their music, art, writing, as well as 
the way this philosophy manifests itself in their lifestyle. They're outsiders 
in an America that doesn't even exist. 
Travis: How did you and Neil [Hagerty] meet? Was it before Neil joined Pussy 
Galore? 
Jennifer: Yeah, it was way before Pussy Galore. I graduated high school a year 
early, it was my senior year, I was 16, and my boyfriend had just died. But it 
wasn't a sad affair. He was a very horrible person. 
I used to hang out with Neil's best friend, Dane. He told me about this band he 
was in. Ever since I was 9, my dad had been taking me to see music, rock shows, 
everything. By the time I was sixteen I'd seen the Rolling Stones twice, I'd 
seen Rush, I'd seen the Kinks, I'd seen Metallica, I'd seen every hardcore band 
you could imagine cos the straight edge scene was going on in D.C. and the shows 
were all ages. 
I was also in school and all the older kids would have parties and they'd have 
the best acid, weed, and shrooms, so then it'd be a whole different thing. We'd 
be listening to Ozzy and Zeppelin and Yes and Jethro Tull, so it was a whole 
different thing. 
So I had all this music in my head. I went to see this band that Dane was in, 
and it was basically Neil's band, Neil and the bass player from Government Issue 
(the D.C. punk band), and this guy Dane, and I don't know who else. It was at 
this really weird place, a place that'd never had a show before, over by Malcolm 
X Park in D.C. It was kinda like a regular joe kind of yuppie type hang out when 
gentrification started coming along. I walked in there and saw all these people 
and I was kind of weirded out by that kind of social behavior that everyone 
seemed so accustomed to. Then Neil walked on the stage and he took over the 
whole room and I was like wow the sound of his voice, the presence he commanded, 
the way he played guitar. After all the music I'd seen, I'd never seen anything 
like it. I was like, "Man! Who the fuck is that?" 
I'd never seen him before. He was kind of crazy. I got introduced to him, but I 
knew he lived in D.C., had gone to the University of Connecticut and got kicked 
out. He had moved into an artist warehouse space, a concrete room by New York 
Avenue, it didn't have a shower or anything, but he lived there cos he was 
painting a lot. I also knew he was always just fucking with people really hard. 
There was one girl who I never knew, but he wasted her, set her hair on fire. 
Just stuff like that, like, "Oh, man." But I kind of persisted. 
Dane would paint over there too, so I'd come over and listen to music and kind 
of try to fade into the background, check out the whole situation. Within a week 
I got a sheet of acid. It was Neil and me and this girl named Holly who was a 
friend of Dane's. We ended up tripping our asses off for five days straight. We 
were on this bed in the middle of this concrete room, and we were very much 
positive that we were on a boat and the rest of the room was filled with water. 
Neil turned into Huey P. Long and was in charge of the boat. We needed to get 
food but we couldn't get off the bed cos we were stuck, if we got off then we'd 
drown. 
And then when we finally got out of it, it was like "This is it." And we've been 
together ever since. 
TJ: What writers are you into? 
JH: I'm really into textbooks. Neil's been taking them away from me. Looking up 
diseases and stuff - this was way before my dad got sick. And of course I've 
always been really into pill books. I have a 1989 edition, a 2000 edition, and 
there are all these drugs in the latest edition that didn't even exist before. 
Other than plain old fact searching, I've been reading a lot about the Plains 
Indians. I make a lot of jewelry, I'm a silversmith, and in a way the Navajos 
and the Plains have influenced me so much... well, actually, almost all Native 
American crafts have. But I've been reading a lot about their decorative rights, 
ceremonial arts, and constantly studying my Middleworth books. 
The last novel I read, I have a friend David Berman (Silver Jews), he wrote this 
book called Actual Air. I think you'd like it. I really, really liked it. I've 
known him for so long, even before the Silver Jews and he'd always been working 
on it. It was a great book that came out a while back. I just got an email from 
him a couple of weeks ago. He told me to read The Age Of Wire And String, a 
collection of stories by Ben Marcus. 
There's another book I got a little too into called Grooming, Gossip, and the 
Evolution of Language. It's a sociological study on humans as if it were 
studying apes. All within the same context and keeping the same things in mind, 
really tongue and cheek, why people do the things they do, how they fit in. 
Yeah. It's fascinating. 
I'm kind of guilty, like, we subscribe to the New Yorker but only read it 
occasionally. Joan Didion does a lot of writing for them and she's one of my 
favorites. A lot of her books are essays, some are novels. Play As It Lays. The 
White Album is like a book of essays and they're really great. That feeling 
where the words were coming out and she was not having to think too hard. 
TJ: Why did you have to cancel your last tour? 
JH: We were like, you know, I knew about it right before we left and I thought 
the best I could do was keep moving. The tour was going to be so intense. Three 
weeks east coast, three weeks west coast, Japan, seven weeks in between each 
gig. No, man, I was like, the stress manifested itself in the most physical way. 
I thought some really horrible thing had happened, like God took my appendix 
out. The pain I had was really intense. The ambulance came and got me and I 
couldn't move. They said there was nothing wrong with me. Stress just manifested 
itself really intensely. They gave me a shot of non-narcotic medication that 
didn't work. Nothing happened. So then I was just doubled over dying, all hooked 
up. The weird thing is I was really dehydrated and I had been drinking four 
bottles of water a day. I was all hooked up. Neil came in and I was screaming 
and finally the woman entered Demerol into my tube and then I was like, "There 
you go." Then they had me on a prescription that helped. I guess it just opened 
the door, cos I started drinking and I was like "We know where this goes." 
I also needed to be with my dad. He's only 55 and he's dying of cancer. I 
thought he wouldn't be there when I got back if I went out on tour. You never 
think something like that will happen, but you know, they were saying he might 
have three months, at best. So he's doing all the traditional shit, chemo, but I 
took him to a doctor of natural medicine and I put him on like seventy 
supplements and I guess it's happening. 
The next day, I got called from L.A. to do a movie. When I was there, he flew to 
San Francisco to see my sister. Then I came back, and I had to go to New York to 
do a photo shoot with Terry Richardson for Dazed and Confused. When I got back 
from New York, he had gone back to San Francisco, and I hadn't gotten to spend 
any time with him. 
But the shows we did play, it made it hard to stop cos it felt so good. They 
were kicking. 
TJ: There were all these rumors going around that the tour was canceled due to a 
drug relapse. 
JH: Yeah, definitely. That's what people thought. But in a certain way, I did 
relapse by, like, taking narcotic prescription and drinking. But it wasn't like 
that. It was basically me knowing that it would be like that any minute if I 
didn't stop. 
Everything happens for a reason. If I had gone out on tour, I wouldn't have been 
able to be in this movie or do the shoot with Terry Richardson. 
Terry Richardson is cool. I was with him from 3 o'clock in the afternoon till 3 
in the morning. It was really, really real. I was wearing this ten thousand 
dollar outfit. Terry is an all-around good vibe guy. 
TJ: Did you meet his wife, Nikki? 
JH: No. They're divorced now. I never met her. 
TJ: She starred in Bruce la Bruce's latest film, Skin Flick. Have you ever seen 
any of his films? 
JH: No. What're they like? 
TJ: Kinda like low fi, 8mm, punk/porno flicks. 
JH: That sounds like that Richard Kern movie Fingered. It's really whack, black 
and white. You should check it out. 
TJ: So you went to the New School for a little while, right? That's where I went 
to school. 
JH: Yeah. Then I took graduate classes at the big building on 5th Avenue. I 
audited them for no credit. I just wanted to take the classes I wanted to take. 
They have to set themselves apart somehow. Who were some of your professors? 
TJ: I sat in on a lot of Lynda Schor's writing workshops. She's really cool, 
totally spaced out. She has a really good book of short stories out called 
Appetites. 
JH: Yeah, I know Lynda Schor. It was all women's issues, everything we read. 
Everything we read was somehow pointing in the direction of oppression. It was 
really fucked up. I hated those kinds of classes. I really liked the psych class 
I took. 
TJ: Yeah, it's all identity politics, all that bullshit. Hopefully that's a fad 
that'll die out with the 90s. So how do you compose your lyrics? Do you and Neil 
collaborate, or write separately, or? 
JH: We do both. I'll go off and write on the computer and go and go and go and 
then I'll have Neil look over it and he'll open up his files and go and go and 
we check everything together and pull things apart and put them together. It's 
so weird. We're so different but at the same time, we're very much alike. 
TJ: You've lived in a lot of different places. New York, Washington D.C., San 
Francisco, Chicago. What made you decide to move to rural Virginia? Do you feel 
that this sort of self-imposed isolation helps you get work done? 
JH: Yeah, it's definitely conducive to work. I had lived in major cities all my 
life. I didn't even get my driver's license until 1994 when we bought our 
Jaguar. I was in southeast D.C., New York, San Francisco, and I spent a lot of 
time in Chicago. After all that, my dad had farmland way out in Virginia, like 
80 miles from the Tennessee border. He was still working in the city at the 
time. My parents would go to Africa to visit my sister, and we'd housesit for 
them. We wrote [fourth album] Cats and Dogs while house-sitting for my parents 
and we didn't miss anything. We were so into it. Not having to think about 
things cos there aren't people in your face all the time like in the cities. If 
you need stuff to do, you've got your computer that you can look stuff up on, 
records, books, TV. It felt really natural. 
So after my parents came back, we rented a house nearby. We got Drag City to put 
us on the payroll, so we'd get paid by Drag City every month. So we knew we 
could afford it. As soon as we got our first check from Virgin, we started 
checking out houses. The one thing I always wanted, my whole life, was my own 
land, my own house, a place where I could keep all my stuff and no one would 
fuck with it. 
[Neil and I] never had any fucking money. I grew up normal - we weren't poor, we 
were regular middle class, nothing fancy, but we never had to go without 
anything. We were definitely not anywhere near rich. Once I moved off on my own, 
I was responsible for myself. And I had been poor for so long. I just ended up 
having to do so many fucked up things to get money for all the wrong reasons. 
And I just said to myself, "Now I will never have to do anything like that 
again." 
I went to tons of houses and there would always be cool things about the houses 
but it was never quite right. And then one day the agent brought me here and we 
drove by it cos we couldn't see the address and I saw it behind us and said, 
"God, I wish it was that one." And the agent stopped, turned around and said, 
"Oh, actually, this is it." And we went back to look at it and I just bought the 
house right away, called Neil up and said, "I found our house." 
TJ: In addition to music, you're also an accomplished jewelry designer and 
silversmith. I saw those cool skull rings that you sell through the Royal Trux 
website. 
JH: Yeah, that's just a Royal Trux cast I designed and it's made to fit all 
sizes. It was meant to not cost a lot of money. But, no, I make [rings] from 
scratch. Straight up silversmithing. I got commissioned to do two wedding rings 
for this Rock n Roll couple in New York. I don't know them, don't know anything 
about them. I've been corresponding through e-mail trying to figure out what 
they're thinking of cos I've gotta like it, too. They were saying big, kinda 
chunky, nothing fancy, no stones, 24 karat white gold. Then I finally came up 
with what I thought was perfect for them, like, all day. All day I was sawing 
with one of those big drills they have at the dentist, making prototypes. 
TJ: How did you like living in New York? 
JH: It's definitely a chore living in New York. You can learn so much and get a 
lot out of it but it will also take everything away from you unless you work 
24-7 to avoid it. You're always bombarded with images and people, and you just 
want clarity. We figured it out after like three years and said there's nothing 
left that this town can give us. It's such an incestuous tiny town. Like 
Mayberry. When we lived there, we lived in so many different places. We lived on 
Clinton, 1st and C, Little Italy, 11th and C, we lived in Greenpoint in 
Brooklyn. We lived in the YMCA for a long time cos we didn't have anything else. 
We just moved. We'd get a dally with wheels and go. 
When Neil first went up, the only reason he joined Pussy Galore is cos I was 
going up to go to the New School and they were going to pay him a good salary 
and rent, but he moved up a month before me, and when I got up there he was so 
fucked up all the time, he was on the brink of being thrown out of the Pussy 
Galore apartment cos they were very straight-edge. So finally, he ended up just 
living with me at the midtown YMCA in one of those tiny box-sized rooms. I don't 
even know how long. Maybe half a year. Then Jon Spencer and his wife wanted to 
rent another place, a two bedroom apartment and he wanted to know if Neil and I 
could move in there with them cos the YMCA was like a closet. They asked if we 
wanted to move in, and it was five hundred dollars a month, which way too much 
for us. So we negotiated, Spencer said he'd pay $250, and we moved in. So we 
lived with them for a while. 
TJ: Was it fun hanging out with Pussy Galore? 
JH: Pussy Galore was so totally different it was so funny just to be in the 
middle of it. Neil came up with the perfect remedy when he joined the band. He 
was the baby of the band, he was only a teenager and they were all older, and he 
took on the role of knowing exactly what was going on, that he was smarter than 
what he was seeing, but he was always so fucked up. But that was Neil, that was 
his persona, which was the only way he could even tolerate the guy (Spencer.) 
TJ: Were you and Neil writing songs together as Royal Trux at this point in 
time? 
JH: No, not at first. The way in which we played together early on was a really 
pivotal point in what Royal Trux has become, the way we responded and worked 
together. I grew up playing piano and guitar. I gave up on guitar after I met 
Neil, cos once you see someone play guitar like that, then it's all over with. 
So at first, I would hum and sing and do piano, but we didn't come up with any 
lyrics cos there weren't any melody or song patterns or stuff that we'd work on. 

And just, over the course of the years, we started rehearsing every day. Finally 
we started bringing in the lyrics and started putting all sorts of sounds and 
stuff into it, putting it all together for the first album. The first song we 
ever composed was "Fix It." Jon Spencer paid us for it, and he put it on the 
Pussy Galore Right Now! album. I didn't sing, I was doing instruments on it. It 
was a real simple song, very unlike the others, just me and Neil. And then we 
did a Royal cassette tape. 
But the whole scene at that time, I was like a little kid in a weird way, cos I 
wasn't anywhere in it. It was like, you know, in the fucking ninth grade I went 
to go see Sonic Youth on their Evol tour. It was a whole different generation of 
people, older people. There were all these other bands that kind of were living 
in the same universe in the same decade that I used to see all the time cos 
Pussy Galore always played out and always played with these different bands but 
there was no mutual ground. One person, Shauna from White Zombie, was my best 
friend in New York. She was three years older than I was but we hung out 
normally, just hung out, ate food and played pinball and stuff. 
TJ: Do the two of you still keep in touch? 
JH: No, she moved to L.A., and then she and Rob [Zombie] broke up, and it was 
just really weird. I always considered her and Rob kinda like me and Neil, so it 
was way too weird. She sent me a copy of Famous Monsters, her band's album, 
which I didn't care for too much... 
But New York in those days, it was all about Pussy Galore, Sonic Youth, 
Dinosaur. It was definitely an in-crowd, but totally an older crowd. I was 17 
years old and the girlfriend of the guy in Pussy Galore which was actually a 
great alterego cos nobody bugged you and you got to see everything. But as far 
as downtown culture, there really wasn't any, it was these particular bands, 
Homestead Records kinda ruled New York at the time. I 
It was also very much a means to an end for all of them and it never felt like a 
means to an end to me and Neil. It was more like a beginning. I guess we were 
pretty notorious cos we were fucked up all the time. We both had really bad 
problems with drugs and drinking. 
TJ: Yeah, the drugs and the Stones references must get a bit annoying after a 
while. 
JH: But I talked to one of our press agents. She just sent me a review in some 
magazine where we were compared to the Rolling Stones again. I just learned to 
accept it: we always will be. And she said, you know what? It's actually a 
compliment. Cos you don't sound like the Rolling Stones. They're just making a 
comparison. 
As for the drug thing, you know, I was smoking weed when I was 12 and doing coke 
by the time I was 14, and I didn't even try to quit doing anything till I was 
21, so the majority of my life has been spent under the influence. Everything I 
did was based on that type of reality ? walking, eating, talking, etc. So people 
accuse us of being fucked up, and I don't really understand why. I mean, maybe 
we act funny or talk weird or something and just aren't aware of it because of 
the mindset that we've spent most of our lives in. 
TJ: Any big plans for the future? Have you started working on any new projects? 
JH: We're gonna make another album. Right now we have a list of shit that we are 
going to do and that are going to be accomplished. 
But since Veterans of Disorder, we toured constantly and the last day of the 
tour we recorded Pound for Pound for five days straight, and then we immediately 
moved to Philadelphia for eight weeks to produce a band for Dreamworks, and then 
we came back here, and it was almost time to go on tour. I just haven't had any 
free time. Whenever there's a just-do-nothing time, then it's, "Oh, now's the 
perfect time to come to Europe and do press!" 
TJ: What happened with Virgin? 
JH: Well, major labels, they have to sell units. The statistics go like this: 90 
percent of all records, both independent and major label, that are released and 
distributed sell less than 5,000 copies. For indies, that's not bad at all. 
Especially smaller independents. We totally sold more than that on Drag City. 
But there are these steps that are preordained in the music industry to get you 
to a certain place, a certain stature. 
Ever heard of Ben Harper? He's been on Virgin for 10 years and they've been 
cultivating him and cultivating him and finally, the time was right. And with 
Virgin, persona and marketing and media are everything. EVERYTHING is about 
sales. Down to photos, art work, marketing, advertising, posters, who your 
publicist is, all that. And they really wanted something a little more tangible, 
a little more solidified, as a package. 
We got signed by the president of Virgin who was a really cool guy. He'd never 
signed a band before, he'd always been in publishing, for years. He'd signed 
Nirvana for publishing. He was a Japanese guy with a British accent. We were the 
only band he'd wanted, we were the first he signed. I know what he meant when he 
said it, but at the same time, I didn't. We were in his office, he was trying to 
reach our lawyer and he was bestowing gifts upon us, Sonic Youth box sets which 
Neil basically declined, which was pretty funny, almost as good as the time he 
bailed on meeting Keith Richards. 
But the guy was like, "Look, in rock n roll, songs are what music is about. With 
rock n roll, that's what it is. It will be like that forever. We want the next 
Rolling Stones." 
I understood he wanted substance; quality, he didn't want, in my opinion. Cos 
the Stones have never been genre specific or pigeonholed. Your grandma will go 
see them just like the 12 year old next door will. But I also kind of knew that 
we were talking about more than just that, but I knew he wanted us so I took 
about three weeks to write a contract, everything we had to have. We sent it to 
our lawyer and the lawyer was like, "Oh my God. Please!" I mean, Warner Brothers 
and Geffen wanted us, so I was like, "Give this to us." 
So the next day, the president called and said, "Okay." Virgin accepted all of 
our terms. 
The whole idea from the beginning was to bring us up organically and steadily to 
success or sales numbers and the number of fans. They didn't want it to be as it 
was, like a phenomenon thing. They wanted it to seem "real" and "organic." That 
was their angle, but they wanted very much to use a lot of things about us that 
we had at our disposal as marketing tools. Which, you know, I mean, many people 
have gone on to use these exact things and have gone multi-platinum but we 
weren't gonna sell ourselves as fucked up junkies, white trailer trash. 
TJ: So that was their big marketing scheme? 
JH: They said look, the main thing you have going for you is you're an 
incredibly mysterious band, but there are things that people do know about you, 
so the best thing to do is to exploit those things. So ultimately that's what I 
dunno. A shit load of bands ended up doing that in the end anyway cos it was 
just so cool. But these are people who are older than us and hadn't even started 
doing drugs [until they got signed], didn't know where it was gonna take em, or 
had false impressions about being in a different plane. You know. Fucking 
rhetoric, right? That's how so many people made their careers -- Courtney Love, 
etc. That whole fucked up white trash drug thing, if it hadn't been exploited, 
so many bands would have never made it. 
And so due to the contract that we wrote, it didn't matter how many records we 
sold. Even if we didn't sell a record, even if they didn't release what we 
recorded, we would get every single penny for every record. So there was no 
incentive for us to go along with this fucked up business. The cash was up 
front, cash in hand. We definitely did things in the context of a major label, 
got to hire the producer that we wanted to, used Joe Walsh's studio, just things 
we always wanted to do. 
And then certain things like parties for the artists and stuff. You know, I 
mean, I never went to parties, what the fuck? So we were just trying to figure 
that out. 
We hired this manager, Elliot Roberts, who was our producer's manager. He was 
interested in managing us. But somehow his guy kept getting mentioned and he's 
from LA and his name is Tom Atencio and he just had this vibe about him, he had 
managed Jane's Addiction and New Order and he is the man that broke No Doubt 
after we fired him. No Doubt wouldn't have existed if we hadn't fired him. They 
had been trying to get him for years, and we fired him and he was like why not? 
So we meet him, he's like, "Fly out to Los Angeles and we'll meet." And I said, 
"No, you come here." So he showed up and it was just like a movie. He looked 
like The Manager. Perfectly white teeth, perfect tan, Armani suit, white BMW. So 
we totally hired him. He knew the industry inside and out, all these weird 
things that are par for the course, all these things about releasing major label 
records so we were just kind of checking him out, asking questions, following 
his lead. It was exciting to do. Whatever. 
But then it came time to make our second record for Virgin (Sweet Sixteen). 
David Briggs was gonna produce it, but then he died. We had always produced all 
of our own records, so we decided to have our manager call up Virgin and -- part 
of the contract was we got to administer our own budget so they just transferred 
it all into our account -- and we wanted to produce our own album. The budget 
for that second record was so huge, so we built a huge studio and we were gonna 
do it all ourselves. I'm not gonna pay a producer 60 thousand dollars when I can 
do it myself. They looked at that as going backwards instead of "evolving." 
There was nothing they could do about it, and there was nothing our manager 
could do to change our minds. So the manager became indispensable, so we fired 
him. 
What I can say now is that Sweet Sixteen is a record I can put on and forget 
it's me. When Sweet Sixteen came out, a lot of people hated it. The record 
company definitely hated it. But then, I hadn't even thought about it. This 
year, it suddenly all made sense. When we did Twin Infinitives, everybody hated 
it. All of a sudden, after people listened to it a few times, people started to 
get it. It's the antithesis of Thank You. I feel that Sweet Sixteen was above 
Thank You in slickness. I knew we were taking it a step further. But they 
weren't gonna be the Thank You Songs. It was entirely immediate, recorded in two 
days, but it took four months to mix, mind you. But the vibe was there. It was 
real. It had that vitality to it. Sweet Sixteen was like, um, a magnum opus. We 
recorded track by track, 32 fucking tracks, layer upon layer. When we finished 
it, I felt the same way I felt after we finished Twin Infinitives. In my own 
mind, it made so much rock n roll sense. But you never know what other people 
are thinking or whether they even have the time to put it on more than once. 
It's a piece of art work. 
TJ: Do you think that rock n roll has a future, or is it pretty much over with? 
JH: It totally has a future. Yeah. The fans are gonna take it back. There will 
be a moment in time where it will be like when I was 9 years old, when the 
people ran everything. It wasn't the corporations and it made it that much more 
exciting and meaningful. Whereas now a lot of music flies by real quick but it 
has no lasting impact or impression and I think that eventually that's gonna be 
the thing that's lasting, people will take it into their own hands, and it will 
cultivate itself into not analogous to the 70s punk scene or any other scene 
before it, but analogous to a point in time when everything was driven by the 
artists. As far as rock n roll goes, the way I think of it, it could never die. 
It's not possible. Cos all rock n roll has ever been is just like raping and 
pillaging and stealing from other sources and turning it inside out and making 
it your own. Everyone says everything has already been done. But I'm talking to 
you on the phone right now, and this conversation has never been put into a 
song. As far as rock n roll being dead, no, I don't see that happening. 
TJ: Are you still building up your studio at home? 
JH: I'm totally down with vintage gear and analog gear but I'm also really into 
technology and the digital age and being able to combine the two, the hybrid 
that allows you to do things. The only annoying thing about digital technology 
is that it's just a little too accessible to dumb asses who waste people's time. 
It's beyond annoying. But you know, so it goes and if it's shit it won't be 
heard anyways. But, man, God, like, I get catalogues every month from our 
equipment supplier with all these weird things, they're like algorithms, and I 
just have to have all this crazy shit. But we bought, like, a hard drive digital 
recorder and a vintage two-inch reel to reel but we also have a lot of ADATs as 
well. But we bought the master, the king of all kings of compressors on Ebay. It 
was Zeppelin's and Sly Stone's. It has the most intense sound coming out of it. 
You can't even describe it. We were just staring. We were like, "We have to have 
this." Things got out of control. We didn't pay that much more than we wanted to 
pay, so things worked out okay. 
TJ: Well it seems that Drag City embodies all of the qualities that you locate 
in what rock n roll once was. It seems like they allow artists to do pretty much 
anything they want, no bullshit involved. 
JH: Drag City is all art-driven and it's all based on the right things cos 
there's never any thought of betrayal. There couldn't be, cos there aren't 
papers signed. It'll always be a 50-50 split. We can do whatever we want, 
whenever we want. They send us the checks for everything. [Label guru] Dan 
Koretzky is like an arts advocate and he's not rich. He just does what he can. 
That's the amazing thing about Drag City. But that was something we had to weigh 
when we went to Virgin, which had some things that Drag City didn't ? tons of 
cash, major means of distribution. 
TJ: So was Drag City hurt when you decided to leave and sign to Virgin? 
JH: No way, man, they were like, "Go for it!" Drag City was in on the whole 
Virgin deal. We went and met with Geffen while Koretzky met with Virgin. They 
were cool with it. I wrote it into the contract that he got to make all the 
vinyl for Thank You and keep the money. Little things like that. 
The only thing lacking at Drag City is umlike, in my mind, and Dan is a really 
smart business man and he never overreaches or goes out of bounds and puts 
himself at risk, but I have this philosophy that you have to spend money to make 
money. He's not really in a position to do that. He can't buy his way into any 
magazine he wants. With Virgin, we could've been in any magazine we wanted to be 
in, they just had to buy us in. 
The second thing being Drag City's relationship with radio, which is just a 
problem that I have cos we don't really serve as college radio anymore. I 
haven't heard college radio in a long time except for brief periods when we're 
driving around on tour and it's always horrible. I shouldn't make vast 
generalizations cos I'm sure there are good things out there, but in general, 
college radio across the board, it's a joke. CMJ charts ? fuckin [Drag City 
label mates] the Red Crayola were number one for a long time and they sold no 
records. So I'm trying to steer them away from college radio. I'm really 
pitching for them to find somebody to work commercial rock for Royal Trux 
because yeah, I think that there are a handful of songs on our previous albums 
that could've done well on commercial radio, so that's what we're trying to 
figure out now. 
But it's hard cos in the end, it all comes down to money. Even if it's in a 
different form -- instead of checks, you've got Rolexes. I've met some very 
supportive commercial rock DJs, but for most of the old school radio DJs (like 
the old school major label presidents), it all comes down to money. 
TJ: Is Neil going to write another book at some point in the future? 
JH: Neil wrote another novel. It's a mystery, a straight-up genre book. And the 
last time we talked about it he was gonna write three genre-specific novels, but 
different genres and put them together as one book. A collection of novellas, 
based on different genres. That's the last thing we talked about, actually. 
TJ: Do you think you'll ever write a book? 
JH: I am going to do a book one day, but it's gonna be ghost written. I just 
fucking - within the past nine months, like, got put on Aderol Methamphetamine 
for Attention Deficit Disorder. My mom never told me I had it until recently, I 
had no idea, and now I feel so much more normal and more lucid and more 
concentrated. But since that time I went on my medication, I knew that I could 
write this book, it's basically written, I know it, I just can't type it. I can 
write songs, short pieces for mags or whatever cos it just kinda comes out, but 
with novels, whenever I start thinking too hard about anything I go to hell. 
Novels are so complex. So it's gonna be the novel written by so and so as told 
by. I don't think any of my writings extend beyond five pages. 
TJ: Do you have a particular favorite of all your albums? I think "Twin 
Infinitives" is sort of a masterpiece, like it'll go down in history as being a 
really amazing achievement. 
JH: I listen to them so long when I'm recording them, and then listening to the 
songs to make arrangements when we go on tour, so when I put them on 
occasionally it surprises me. I listened to Accelerator the other day and was 
like, "Wow! I can't believe I did this." 
TJ: Yeah, Accelerator fucking rocks. Is it true that Twin Infinitives was 
influenced Philip K. Dick? 
JH: It's hard. Neil and I are very much alike. We're also very different. If he 
said it, it very well might've been what he was thinking. All I was thinking was 
"pure mutations of Blue Oyster Cult!" Cos lyrically, I'm in love with it. Have 
you heard their second album? 
TJ: No, I haven't. 
JH: You've got to check it out, their second album. I was really into that and I 
was also really into the groundedness of the rock, but not wanting just to stay 
right there, cos that's Blue Oyster Cult, so you know, we didn't want to make a 
record that had already been made. 
He's real into Philip K. Dick, sci fi, but lately he's been on a comic rampage. 
X-men, Fantastic Four. He's got this whole theory about the Marvel universe. 
There's Marvel and then there's D.C. Comics. Marvel makes it so that every 
single thing that happens in the span of Marvel Comics, 1969 to date, it all 
makes sense. There are no inconsistencies. It's a whole universe, really 
carefully mapped out. The illustrators change year by year and he's really into 
checking out the different ones. We saw the X-men movie last night. It was the 
first time I've been in a movie theatre since 1996. 
TJ: No way! 
JH: Yeah, we live three hours away from the nearest movie theatre. But we see 
everything cos we have a satellite TV, we just see it later than everybody else. 
Also, I had a hard time cos the screen was so big. I had to keep getting up and 
moving back because my vision wasn't taking it all in. I was getting nauseous. 
But it was a good movie. Neil's been filling me in on the characters so I knew 
what was going on.


Interview With Jennifer Herrema
by Jeff Johnson
Fabula Magazine
June 2000 

Jennifer Herrema: So what's up? 
Jeff Johnson: I've got a bunch of questions for you as you might imagine. Is it 
true that Royal Trux did a decades record series? 
JH: Yeah, you know, the subplot, yeah. 
JJ: I know Accelerator is supposed to be in that. Are the other two Sweet 
Sixteen and Thank You? 
JH: Yeah. 60s, 70s and 80s. There's definitely a subplot by no means a tribute 
to the decades. It was basically based on the production values and the methods 
of recording and the equipment it was recorded on, that were kind of more 
indicative of the decades as opposed to actual tribute to the sound. 
JJ: How about the lyrics and subject matter? 
JH: Lyrics and subject matter, it really, that didn't really come into play too 
terribly much - a little bit on each record, I mean like the paring down on 
Accelerator, the simplified kind of redundancy of it had a bit of a 80s vibe, 
and the 70s kind of the really lengthy storylike lyrics were very much of the 
hobbit type, and Thank You definitely had the lyrics of the time, of different 
situations where the 60s were all about politics and situations. 
JJ: Is it something that you planned out before you made any of the records, or 
did you just sort of find it happening with the first one? 
JH: Well no I mean we thought of it at the beginning because when we signed our 
deal with Virgin it was a 3-record deal, and so we figured ok well an underlying 

theme... wait, hold on, can I have a light?... Yeah so that was just kind of 
like you know we always kind of build up guidelines and boundaries for ourselves 

- whenever we set up to do a record there's an idea behind it and that was 
definitely a sub-subplot that was thought out at the beginning but by no means 
actually dictated the actual outcome of the records. 
JJ: So what sort of guidelines did you set for yourself on Pound for Pound? 
JH: Pound for Pound? The whole idea of Pound for Pound was to take straight off 
of Veterans of Disorder, the last song on Veterans of Disorder, it was to segue 
straight out of that song into Pound for Pound, which "Blue is the Frequency" 
was that song, and that was a song that was done the last day of touring, and we 

taught it to the band that day in the studio, and it was taken, like second 
take, that was it, and that was the end, so it was meant to represent a live 
vibe, kind of an immediate feel, and so Pound for Pound was an extension of 
that. It was done in five days, the last five days of the tour, we taught the 
band the songs, we just jammed on them, jammed on them, stopped, reevaluate, 
jammed on them, jammed on them, and pressed record and it was done. 
JJ: Jeez. Ok, going back to Veterans of Disorder, how about the song before 
"Blue is the Frequency," "Coming Out Party." Can you tell me anything about the 
manner in which you sing that one? 
JH: (laughs) It was like holding on for life, I mean it was done in one take and 

I thought I was gonna pass out by the time it was done. it was just like, it was 

all dictated by like, how can i breathe, the way I wrapped the words around, 
everything was dictated by my telling myself that I wanted to get through it in 
one take with no punch-ins. 
JJ: And then it sort of fades out at the end, doesn't it? 
JH: Yeah, the last line... 
JJ: It sounds almost like you're mid-sentence, and the song just kinda goes off.
JH: Oh, let's see, uh, what is that fuckin line? It's been a while. Well, I'll 
think of it. Yeah, but... oh, oh, it was uh, uh, oh goddamn it! Now you got me 
going, something about, uh, what did i write on that? Something about 
sickness... um, travelling... 
JJ: I've sent you to the land of the tip of the tongue. 
JH: Yeah, it's there. It's something about sickness and it had to do about 
flying, and actually that was the last word, and it got cut off. 
JJ: Flying? 
JH: Yeah, exactly. 
JJ: It just kind of cracked me up, because you sound a lot like... I mean, the 
band is sort of all over the musical map in terms of time periods, which is kind 

of funny after you do the trilogy, and then you come out with that album, and I 
think there are elements of all three of those decades for sure. That song in 
particular sounds a lot like some of the more freewheeling Dylan style kind of 
stuff. 
JH: Yeah, yeah. Altitude sickness. 
JJ: Yeah. 
JH: There we go. 
JJ: That's what you ended with? 
JH: That's what I ended with. Ok. 
JJ: The album is also very fascinating to me because the first side of it is all 

very very short songs, all in the two minutes and some seconds length, and then 
the second side, suddenly it completely opens up with these really long spacious 

songs that are I think the closest you've gotten to the sound that you used on 
Double Infinitive [sic] since that album. 
JH: Right. 
JJ: The last time I saw you play, you played at I think the Cocodrie here in San 

Francisco. 
JH: Oh god, it's got a ghost in the middle of the stage, that place. 
JJ: Does it really? 
JH: Yeah, I can't go back there. It goes straight in the middle of the stage, I 
had to keep circling it, it was horrifying. 
JJ: Like just a presence or was it talking? 
JH: Yeah, I don't know if you noticed, but I couldn't stay there, I had to keep 
moving over and over and back, and every time I would go to the center it would 
be like this horrible horrible feeling, it was really weird. 
JJ: Ew. Yeah I noticed that you kind of dragged the mic over to the side. 
JH: Yeah, things were getting really weird up there, I mean there was a really 
weird vibe, I don't know what that place used to be or what was going on there. 
JJ: That whole area has sort of like, there's been a weird overlay that's been 
happening, it's really been very much resisting in a way the sort of 
gentrification that's been going on here, so there are real creepy places like 
the Condor, that used to be a strip club, is now a sports bar... 
JH: Yeah I used to work at the Condor. 
JJ: What's that? 
JH: I used to work at the Condor. 
JJ: You did? 
JH: I worked at all of them. 
JJ: Oh fantastic, all up in that area. 
JH: Every single one of em. They're all owned by the same people except for 
Lusty Lady. They're all owned by the mob. 
JJ: Huh. 
JH: Yeah. there's the Condor, Garden of Eden, um, actually no, the Hungry Eye 
isn't owned by the same people, that's separate too. Um, the one across the 
street, what was that, it was a really fucked up one, next to the Condor? 
JJ: Oh, it's not something Eve? I don't remember what it's called. 
JH: That was the thing, is I worked at all of them, because they're all owned by 

the same people, so they rotate you from club to club. 
JJ: Around what period of time was that? 
JH: Uh, I don't know. When did Twin Infinitives come out? 
JJ: 90. 
JH: 90? yeah, it was for 2 years, so 89 and 90. 
JJ: Ok. well, during that show, you were doing most of the singing. Neil sang 
very little and mostly just played in the back. Is that pretty typical of the 
way you operate live? 
JH: No, he just does what he wants to do (laughs). 
JJ: That's just where he was that day? 
JH: Yeah. Because the night before he did a lot of singing, and he has like no 
control over... well, both of us, it's just like, you know he can run his voice 
ragged really easily. But uh, yeah, a lot of times we sing together, but that 
was like, I don't know, man, there was definitely something on that stage. It's 
like I like the guy, the club guy, and I like the idea that it was kind of there 

in that neighborhood that I used to live in, but at the same time there was 
something really creepy there on that stage. 
JJ: It was the first time I had seen you, so I had nothing to compare it to, and 

I didn't know what you were bringing in there and what was already there, you 
know? 
JH: Yeah, that was a psycho show for sure. Definitely one of my, like, shows I 
won't forget, cuz I just had that feeling on the stage. 
JJ: The reason I brought it up initially was that I was thinking about Veterans 
of Disorder, and I believe you opened that show up with the first three songs, 
and it could've even been the first four songs from that album... 
JH: Yeah, probably. 
JJ: ... just all in a row. So, do you see them as something that necessarily 
goes together like that, almost as if it's one song? 
JH: Well no not really, but we spend a lot of time when we sequence our records, 

and it kind of seems like the sequencing just kind of lends itself for one song 
going into the other, so when making up the set list it just kind of just seemed 

like hey, that's the way we sequenced it, so that's the way we obviously thought 

each song went into each other the best. I mean those first songs were like 
definite you know like trials and concerted efforts - especially on my part I 
guess, I don't know, you'd have to talk to Neil about him - to really write 
straightforward pop type songs that didn't sound really like pop, but it was a 
big challenge for me to simplify but actually put the lyrics in a forum where 
they actually told a bit of a story... 
JJ: But still be as straight ahead as possible with the delivery. 
JH: Right. 
JJ: Alright. I'm kind of obsessed with NME, especially the online version, 
because they index all of their reviews, and they're just completely wacky. They 

have a few bands that I've found among their database where they just really 
have a lot of fun reviewing them. One is the Fall, and the other one is you 
guys, and I was just reading the review of Veterans of Disorder, and the opening 

sentence is "Veterans of Disorder is the work of a band who've fought many 
campaigns of discomfort, waged many wars of unlistenability, and in their 
mellower years have hit upon a sound that sounds like the creep of time-lapsed 
musical death." Can you comment at all on that assessment? Do you think there's 
some validity there? 
JH: Um, yeah, whatever goes, whatever sells the record. Who wrote that, do you 
know? I would be surprised if it was a writer that knew a lot of our music. 
JJ: Why do you say that? 
JH: Well, just because if they did they would know that using the word "settles" 

would be totally inappropriate and that obviously the next record was going to 
defy anything that they... 
JJ: Ok, I see, they don't seem to have a very strong sense of the sort of 
context of the albums. 
JH: Right. 
JJ: Ok, the person's name is Dele Fidel. 
JH: Oh, yeah that guy doesn't, he's, uh, he did the Pound for Pound one too, and 

it's very positive in this really vague, 
I-don't-know-what-the-fuck-I'm-talking-about way. 
JJ: Right, which is part of the way their stuff is funny. 
JH: Yeah, they've got some writers over there that kick ass, like Norsch [? - 
pronounced No-ersh], I mean actually one of them was just out here last week, 
and it's funny though because they assign different writers different things, 
like sometimes they do it intentionally just to see what goes on. But Dele 
Fidel, I don't think he knows much of our work, and the whole (laughs) thing of 
like mellower years, is just like hmm yeah well, you know I might be 87 but I 
haven't mellowed (laughs). 
JJ: They seem to be determined to establish your relationship to Exile on Main 
Street. In the newest review I think they said imagine Exile on Main Street 
played backwards and you start to get the idea - I don't know what the fuck that 

means. 
JH: See that's that writer, he's got a bag of tricks. 
JJ: Right. 
JH: Whatever. If it sells records that's cool. 
JJ: Ok let's see what I have here. Do you think that you'll ever again do a 
double album? 
JH: Hm, I don't know. maybe, who knows? 
JJ: I'm going back to Double Infinitive [sic], which is still pretty baffling to 

me, I have to say. I mean I love it, but I usually listen to a track, and then I 

end up putting on a different Royal Trux record. 
JH: Then you gotta go - yeah exactly. 
JJ: Then maybe I'll go back to it. And sometimes it feels like elements of... in 

a way it seems like you've mined a lot of things you came up with in Double 
Infinitive and used them in parts of the layering of other songs. 
JH: Yeah, yeah. 
JJ: And a lot of times it seems like an atmosphere that sort of like is... you 
can pretty much summon whenever you want. 
JH: Yeah, maybe so, I think somehow it is true, because I mean to me and a lot 
of people all of our records do sound pretty different but they all sound like 
Royal Trux in some way or another. I don't know anybody that likes all of our 
records, but i do know most fans kind of like the big picture no matter what 
anyway. 
JJ: Does Royal Trux typically write the music before the lyrics or vice versa? 
JH: Uh uh, it's whatever. 
JJ: It's just whatever happens? 
JH: Yeah. I play a lot of air guitar. 
JJ: (laughs) All right! 
JH: I'm definitely down with the riffage. I'm noted for my... 
JJ: Bloody fingers on the air guitar? 
JH: No, for my creative riff writing via air (laughs). Yeah, Neil just pulls out 

the guitar and I play my little air guitar and he works it right out for me. 
JJ: So he says oh, ok I know what you're hearing there. Does he ever present you 

with something you like but don't know what to do with or vice versa, you to 
him? 
JH: Um, no, he'll present me with kind of a melody line that he would like to 
sit over some music that we had come up with, and there will be times where, ok 
I can get with that but there are other parts of it where only he could know 
what the hell his interpretation of that is, and only I can know how it would 
fit for me, and so therefore sometimes a lot of the double singing, we phrase 
off each other and stuff. 
JJ: I've read that Cats and Dogs was written as - the two of you had been 
touring around - and it was written as a response to a lot of the burgeoning 
indie music scene that you had seen at the time... 
JH: (laughs) It was kind of like our tribute to the grunge movement, but in no 
real way, it was just like the whole double guitar thing, and we were like yeah 
this is the shit that's going on. It was all kind of funny to us and we just 
fucked with it I guess. 
JJ: So do you think it's closer to parody, what you were doing, than homage, 
just riffing off of... 
JH: Yeah, it was neither, it definitely wasn't a parody, and it definitely 
wasn't an homage, it was definitely external variables and input put into the 
mainframe and thrown back out as Cats and Dogs. 
JJ: Do you listen to a lot of music in your downtime, when you're not playing? 
JH: Yeah, I do, and then I have sometimes when I don't at all, you know a week 
or two or so, and then all the sudden... we've got so many records and so many 
cd's [sic], and then it just seems like no matter where I grab, it's like, "I've 

heard that," and we're always getting new stuff, people are sending us stuff, 
but all the sudden it'll happen like "ok, I've gotta put on this record," and 
that record will stay on the stereo for days at a time. 
JJ: Any recent ones that you've been stuck on lately? 
JH: O god. Recently I was stuck on one song, Man for Man's Earth Band "Blinded 
by the Light," that Springsteen cover, and the Marvin Gaye live, it's an 
18-minute, or not 18, I don't know it's maybe like 12, 15 or something like that 

version of "Got to Give it Up," where it's like, that Beck riff is ripped off 
of. I don't know his music too well, but it was on Saturday Night Live I saw him 

do a song, and I was like "that's fucking Marvin Gaye!" It was uh, I can't 
remember how it goes, I can't remember the particular riff that he... but there 
it is. 
JJ: Maybe it was "Sex Laws" or something like that... I can't remember the one 
he was playing recently. 
JH: It was like "hey, uh duh duh" - aw, fuck it. Actually, I can put it on now 
and you can hear it for yourself. 
JJ: Alright, it's right there. 
JH: Yeah... o wait a minute. It might be in the middle of the stack that's been 
put away. And then there was this cd... there was a 7" I had when I was - god, 
fuck - when I was in like 8th grade, it was a metal band called Tank, and I 
don't know where they're from, they're from like Scandanavia or Germany or 
something and Algie Wood was in the band, and it was kind of a metal band at the 

time but they had this one song called "Don't Walk Away" and it used to be one 
of my favorite songs, and Sabbath's "Technical Ecstacy," I listened to that over 

and over again, and then there was this Blue Oyster Cult record that I never 
really liked very much called Secret Treaties, but I put it on and I was like 
yeah whatever, but I didn't give up on it because I love Blue Oyster Cult, so I 
put it on again and then I put it on again and I put it on again, and by the 
fourth time, man, it had a whole thing going on, like "Career of Evil" which is 
the first song, is actually one of their old songs, "Transmaniacon MC," and 
there's, I think it's number 8, "Astronomy" is "Panic In Detroit," and number 7, 

"Flaming Telepaths," was "Black Friday," by Steely Dan. O, the whole thing, it 
was like all different songs, and then there was one that was a Dolls song, I 
think it might have been "Cagey Cretins," but yeah, then it was like all of a 
sudden the whole thing started making sense, and then it was like "Secret 
Treaties," and then I started listening to the lyrics, and it's like, uh... I 
can't remember it phrase by phrase but it's like "I take what you give with no 
remorse, I take what you give and I don't say sorry, I take what you give and 
I'll take it right away," and then the whole record goes on to take songs from 
everything, it was great. 
JJ: That sounds excellent. What year was that record made? 
JH: Uh, '74 I think. It's like one of those where you put it on and you're like 
"what the fuck?" but then there's another record, Captain Copter and the 
Fabulous Twirly Birds, it's Randy California, he's like one of my favorite 
singers of all time. It was done I think in 1972 but it's a great great record. 
And I'm going through here looking for my fucking Marvin Gaye. But I also love 
Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, and I can definitely get stuck on that. Except for then if 

it goes on too long I just get this kind of melancholy feeling because I always 
think of Eazy-E and him being dead, you know that whole thing, and I'm like ahh! 

I gotta turn it off. Fucking where's my marvin gaye record? 
JJ: Do you listen to Captain Beefheart at all? 
JH: Yeah, yeah, I go through my periods, definitely. Shit, where is Marvin? 
Yeah, I haven't listened to him in a while though, it's been a while. 
JJ: Yhey just started re-releasing all this stuff. 
JH: Yeah, that's what I heard. I had a lot of vinyl at one point. It got left in 

San Francisco, but... 
JJ: Aw, shit. That Grow Fins thing they just put out, it's a box set, I bought 
the record and it's three double records, they've released the first two, and so 

they're still waiting on the third one, even though it's already available on 
cd, but the first one is just fantastic, it's like a lot of early stuff and 
demos and stuff like that. 
JH: Excellent. 
JJ: It's got the real like sort of voodoo blues boogie thing he was doing, and 
there's this "Obeah Man," whoo! 
JH: That Dr John picked up on and took to the states [stage?]. Yeah, no I love 
him. I'm still trying to figure out the who [sic] story with him and Frank 
Zappa, like I know something bad went on. I love Frank Zappa, but I want to know 

what he did to Don Van Vliet, I know he treated him badly or something. 
JJ: To make him totally split - and Don has a reputation for really sort of like 

putting the musicians he works with through the ringer. 
JH: O yeah. 
JJ: I don't know how much of it is deserved, but kind of basically lock them up 
with him in a house and just kinda dictate everything that's gonna happen, and 
just kinda keep them there almost like the whole strand yourself on an island 
kind of thing. 
JH: Well, sometimes that's necessary. 
JJ: Yeah, no kidding. 
JH: I understand that. 
JJ: The result - I mean, anyone would be proud to be on one of those records. 
JH: God damn, where is my Marvin Gaye? Maybe I was listening to it downstairs. 
I'm still listening - alright, go on. 
JJ: Can you walk around your hometown without getting hassled? 
JH: O yeah. there's like no people here. In our county alone there's 3,000 
people and it's a big county. 
JJ: Where's that? 
JH: Rappahannock County. It's on the Rappahannock River, it's like right at the 
base of the blue ridge mountains. So it's just like when we go into the town 
maybe to go grocery shopping or whatever I mean you know nobody knows who the 
fuck we are. Nothin goin on, everybody just kind of works at the gas station or 
the Wallmart [sic]. 
JJ: Would you consider making a showdown album called Boss Hog vs the Trux if 
you had the opportunity? 
JH: (pause) No, I wouldn't even waste my time on something like that (laughs). 
That would be a real fucking waste of time. They have nothing to offer. We'd 
kill them. 
JJ: Do you think they ever had something to offer? 
JH: No, never. I mean I know Hollis, you know, there's something in there, and 
it's not in what's it called, hi-lo. 
JJ: Lo-hi. 
JH: Lo-hi, whatever, it's not there. I had her open up for us once in New York, 
and it's not there, but I know she's got something to give. 
JJ: Yeah, I agree with you. 
JH: It doesn't come out in Boss Hog, and there's nothing else. 
JJ: Do you dig any of the Pussy Galore stuff? 
JH: O yeah, sure. It's like, um, I don't listen to it very often, but it's just 
like one of those things, like when I put on dylan I think of my dad. When I put 

on Pussy Galore I think of living at the YMCA (cackles). 
JJ: So how do you think the Radio Video EP falls between Veterans and Pound for 
Pound in terms of sound and what's going on? 
JH: Well Radio Video EP had a lot of kind of call and response kind of lyrically 

back and forth stuff with my friend Reeta, and some of those songs, like the 
straight-up lyrics were written for her because they're definitely Hallmark Card 

things and we're doing a production for her as an R&B thing for possibly a major 

label, so we were writing some really serious Hallmark shit. And she was up for 
it, she's like gospel trained and shit. But then it just got to be too fuckin 
funny that we had to sing all over the top of her, and there was Radio Video, 
and Pound for Pound had kind of been... we had started writing kind of in that 
way with back and forth and call and response as well. 
JJ: There are a lot of sort of... I mean I didn't know what to expect - I mean, 
obviously I never know what to expect from a new Royal Trux album - but after 
getting Veterans of Disorder, which I think sort of samples different phases or 
different things that you've done, then you get the Radio Video EP and all of a 
sudden there's like drum loops more more like dance kind of stuff going on... 
JH: Yeah, I mean that shit goes back to like 1991 or 92. 
JJ: Ok, that was my other question, so that's older stuff that you had. 
JH: O no no, I mean that's brand new stuff, but I mean we wrote "Shockwave 
Rider." 
JJ: O it was stuff you were trying. 
JH: "Shockwave Rider" if it was released today I guarantee it would be a hit. 
JJ: Ok. "Shockwave Rider." 
JH: Yeah, I don't know if you ever heard it, but... 
JJ: Where is that? 
JH: It's a 7-inch we put out. And it might... it's also on the Index Magazine 
compilation, and I think the 7-inch is sold out. It might be on the box set. 
JJ: O yeah, it's on it, I see it right here. "Shockwave Rider." Cool. 
JH: Yeah, that song kicks ass. 
JJ: I'll check that out. What year was that one done? 
JH: I think that's like 91 or 2. That's definitely your dance style. Before your 

dance style. 
JJ: What titles did you consider for Pound for Pound? Was it pretty obvious 
that's what you were going to call it, or did you think of some other ones? 
JH: I don't know, somehow that one came up and that was it. We didn't question 
it. I forget even how it came up (coughs). You know, we were weighing in, it's 
just like ok well... who's like a fucking featherweight? Is like ohhh, uhhh, 
Sugar Ray Leonard... didn't he... he's like a welterweight or a featherweight, 
isn't he? He's a tiny guy. 
JJ: He was a middlewight. I mean, he was a couple different classes... 
JH: But he was never a heavyweight, right? 
JJ: Never, yeah. 
JH: Alright, so ok you take him, right? Pound for Pound against Ali. 
JJ: Yeah, he was supposed to be the best pound for pound fighter of his time. 
JH: He coulda kicked ali's ass but he wasn't in the same weight class. 
JJ: Ok. 
JH: 5 days, 5 thousand dollars, pound for pound we'd kick Oasis's ass or any 5 
million dollar record out there. There you go. 
JJ: All right, I like that. We'll put that in big letters. 
JJ: So, the album opening up, you've got "well my friends the time has come to 
cease and desist." That line really reminds me right away of Lionel Ritchie's 
"All Night Long." Are you aware of the connection? Can you see what I'm talking 
about? 
JH: All night long... (trying to remember it)... all night long... 
JJ: "Well my friends, the time has come, to raise the roof and have some fun." 
JH: "... have some fun." Yeah. No, actually, no. It was just more like, you 
know, the long long arm. Time to walk away, you know. (sorta sings) "I know you 
love your Mama and I know you love your Dad... well, my friends, the time has 
come to cease and desist that long long arm." You know, parents just always 
trying to make their kids do things they don't wanna do. 
JJ: Alright. Are you pretty prepared for the fact that people are gonna read 
that line and start asking you if this is your last record? 
JH: (pause) What? 
JJ: The first line on your new record ends up saying basically that the time has 

come to cease and desist. 
JH: NO NO NO, we're talking about parents! 
JJ: O yeah, I mean I know that's not actually what's happening in it... 
JH: Right. 
JJ: But I mean when you put a line like that as the first line on a record, 
people are immediately gonna get their... it's gonna perk their ears up and the 
rumours are gonna start flying. 
JH: Well that's cool, maybe they'll buy the record thinking it's the last. 
JJ: (laugh) 
JH: I mean we're kind of prolific, although we don't have side projects and we 
don't do a bunch of bullshit, but we put out a lot of records, and you know, 
definitely it's kind of like, it just seems like you pick and choose which one 
you're gonna get or whatever. So if people think this is the last one, hey it 
might sell better. 
JJ: Yeah, you have a string of I think maybe four years or something like that, 
you've had a record a year. 
JH: No, from the very beginning we've had a record a year. 
JJ: It's always been that way? Wow, jesus. 
JH: It seems more now just because we've had stuff like EP's [sic] and stuff in 
between, and actually on this record it hasn't even been a year, so it seems a 
little bit more quick. 
JJ: Can you and do you freestyle? 
JH: Freestyle? Yeah, I can freestyle, but I generally go on one... it's kind of 
how on Veterans of Disorder we were working on what was going to be called 
"Altitude Sickness," just coming up with shit but in a lot of situations I'll 
kinda like go into a spot and I'll stay in that topic and then it's just like 
I've really got to wait for a riff or something to take me to a new topic. 
JJ: So you just work that one out until something else takes you. 
JH: Yeah. 
JJ: Alright. To what state of mind do you think Pound for Pound is most 
condusive? 
JH: (pause) Um, I think it's like um... aw, I think it's a pretty... state of 
mind... I don't really know what state of mind it's most condusive [sic]... I 
don't know, we'll have to take a poll on that. 
JJ: Ok, maybe I'll do that. Can you talk about the drums on the new album. It 
seems like they're a lot more prevalent than they've been in the past, and you 
actually have two drummers on this one, right? 
JH: Yeah, we had two drummers in 95 on Thank You... same type of thing. Yeah, 
all the Veterans touring we had two drummers, and so since the album was gonna 
be a result of kind of the live touring activity, that's the way it was. The 
band we're taking on tour now, the percussion player's actually switched over to 

the kit, and the kit player is not coming, so we're just gonna be more like 
straight ahead. 
JJ: What does it mean to speak like crows? 
JH: How to explain... just like... crows, you know, they all speak the same, 
right? You know, crows don't really have like (low voice) "hello" or 
(high-pitched) "hello" so you know, as far as the human ear goes, crows all talk 

the same, right? 
JJ: Ok. 
JH: And they're considered animals, they are just that black bird, so when 
things start going wrong, they can't be blamed cuz they're nothing but fuckin 
crows, they all do the same thing, they all speak the same, and they can't be 
held accountable for things getting fucked up, like bosses dying, and it's of 
the factory owners' own volition. 
JJ: So to speak like crows would be to set yourself apart from the sort of human 

drama and be able to just sit over on the side and not be accountable for it? 
JH: Hmm. Maybe. (laughs) There's like a little bit more... yeah, I mean it could 

be that, but it was kind of a little bit more like... oh whatchoo call it, 
fuckin, you know, Norma Rae or somethin... everybody goes in and they do what 
they're told, they say what they're supposed to say... and then shit starts 
going wrong and they start getting blamed but how can they be blamed because you 

know they really have no real initiative or take of their own on anything. You 
know, it's kind of like mechanical animals. 
JJ: Ok, I hear you. sort of like the twittering machine, basically. 
JH: Yeah, well whatever gets conjured. 
JJ: What does "Accelerator" have to do with Pound for Pound? How'd that end up 
on there? 
JH: O, well Primal Scream, they did a new album called Xtrmntr that they 
dedicated to us and they wrote a song on it called "Accelerator" and it was 
their tribute to Royal Trux, but we had already written the song referring back 
to the album Accelerator, but they named their song "Accelerator," so we had to 
name our song "Accelerator (the original)." But, it went back to Accelerator the 

record but it was more of a reference to the album cover. 
JJ: Ok, which sort of makes sense - you're talking about the album cover of 
Accelerator? 
JH: Right. 
JJ: Devil's hoof on the... [pedal] to the floor with the 2000 coming up [on the 
odometer]? 
JH: Actually, going backwards in time. 
JJ: O was it. 
JH: 2000 was leaving. 
JJ: And it was going back to 99? 
JH: Yeah (laughs) 
JJ: To bring us where we almost were... 
JH: Something like that. 
JJ: Still ahead of us. Alright. That's kind of fascinating. 
JJ: Ok now a jerk-off question, cuz I'm gonna let you off the hook here. Do you 
read poetry? 
JH: Poetry. Um, yeah I read some poetry, I mean I guess, depending... Berman's, 
David Berman's record... I mean (laughs) his new book... 
JJ: Actual Air? 
JH: Actual Air is like my favorite book right now, and it has been, it's just 
like we've been tight all through his whole writing of that book and I've been 
waiting and waiting and waiting and it was like everything plus more than I ever 

expected, so I'm definitely into that. And we get all these really... 
(static)... things that people send in. Tons of magazines, like fan zine things 
of poetry, and there's this one guy, goddamit where's... I think Neil just typed 

a bunch of his stuff into the site, so I don't know if... 
JJ: The Pink Heart Society [ http://www.royaltrux.com/PHS2000.html ]. 
JH: Yeah, it's in the site, but I was just looking through this guy's notebook 
the other day. It was really really good, I wish I could say his name. (sigh) 
Fuck, my house is really... o here it is! What's his name? Cool. Uh, Terminal 
Illusion. Travis Jepison [sic]. Yeah, it's great. He sent this book in and it's 
good. 
JJ: I'll have to check it out on the site. So you've known Berman for a while, 
then. 
JH: Oh, yes. Longlonglonglong time. 
JJ: How about do you know the kids of Pavement? 
JH: (pause) 
JJ: Like Malkmus or any of those cats. 
JH: Oh yeah yeah yeah yeah. forever and ever. 
JJ: Well, we made it through pretty much just everything I have, and I very much 

appreciate your talking to me today. 
JH: Yeah. 
JJ: We just came out with our new print issue... 
JH: With Boss Hog on the cover? 
JJ: That's the previous one that we did. 
JH: Oh, you really did one like that! 
JJ: Yeah, we really did Boss Hog on the cover, yeah. 
JH: Well, alright. 
JJ: I interviewed Cristina [sic] and Hollis for that. 
JH: I'm sure that was interesting. 
JJ: Yeah it was really interesting. 
JH: (laughs) 



Memo From Hagerty
By Ed Mabe
Insound.com
December 2001 

Timing is everything in life. When interviewing rock stars this axiom tends to 
hold even more truth. And like most rock journalists yearning to find their 
niche I'd done my share of research on the topic. I'd sat up late at night 
scouring through interviews by rock critic heavyweights like Lester Bangs and 
Nick Kent and the one thing they all seemed to have in common was the element of 

timing. What really separates a good interview from a bad one is nothing more 
than crossing paths with someone who actually has something to say. Simply put, 
being in the right place at the right time. 
So when I heard the boogie-woogie trash-rock duo of Neil Hagerty and Jennifer 
Herrema, AKA Royal Trux, had called it quits I decided to put my theory to the 
test. 
Over the past few years I'd fallen into the depths of Royal Truxdom. My interest 

in the band bordered on obsession. I'd even gone so far as to interview Jennifer 

back in 1999 just to get the story straight from the lead singers mouth. Thus, 
the only person left on the planet able to help me complete my journey into the 
dark heart of Royal Trux was Neil Hagerty. 
Hagerty is the smart-ass, street-punk guitarist who cut his rock 'n' roll teeth 
with the infamous noise rock pioneers Pussy Galore before forming Royal Trux 
with soul mate Herrema in the late 1980s. Since their fateful inception the Trux 

have produced some of the most innovative rock music ever put to vinyl with 
records like Cat's & Dogs, Thank You and Veterans of Disorder. But when press 
releases started to circulate about an up-coming Neil Michael Hagerty solo 
record and supporting mini-tour I knew I had to find out first hand the current 
state of rock 'n' rolls coolest couple. The following transcript with Hagerty is 

the first one-on-one interview after the break-up of the band (yeah...its true) 
in March of 2001. And while we sat talking in a dark, hole-in-the-wall bar 
called Vincent's Ear in Asheville, NC where he and his makeshift band, The 
Losers, were set to unveil their new sounds to the world, I honestly knew that 
for once in my life I was in the right place at the right time. 
The Music 
Just as long as the guitar plays...
- "Torn & Frayed", The Rolling Stones 
Ed Mabe: Let's start by talking about some of your records. I love Sweet 16. The 

tone of it is so cynical toward your record company (Virgin). Its laden with 
references about working for the record company and this whole "lay-off and let 
us make our music attitude." Was it just you guys having trouble getting used to 

being on a major label? 
Neil Hagerty: Oh yeah, totally. It was the whole "Working for MCA" / "EMI" 
thing. We were also doing this whole Trilogy thing that was supposed to be about 

the 60s, 70s, and 80s. We decided to do that when we signed a 3-record contract 
with Virgin. Either way we'd say that's what we're doing and whatever we end up 
doing we'll make it fit into that idea. So with Sweet 16 the Trilogy gave us 
something to fall back on with the record company. Plus they were worried about 
the whole sophomore jinx thing and every time a record company lets a band go 
off and make a record on their own it always sucked. 
EM: How did Royal Trux end up on a major label like Virgin? 
NH: We had people checking us out and were playing gigs with this pick-up band. 
Dan Koretsky (Drag City Records founder) was heavily involved with it at the 
time. He kept bullshitting Virgin and kept them away from us for awhile so it 
was like this mysterious band thing. 
EM: How do you think things would have been different if Royal Trux had stayed 
with a major label? 
NH: Well that's what I wanted to do. I was willing to renegotiate the contract. 
How about we do two records for the same amount as the second record cost to 
produce? I was thinking we'll find a way to work together and by the time say, 
the fourth record comes out we'll get tired of fucking around playing these mind 

games with the record company and being these punk rockers. But they couldn't do 

it because there was a shake-up in the company and everybody we meet when they 
signed us was gone. But we were serious about what we wanted to do. It wasn't a 
prank or something. 
EM: But it always comes across in past interviews that you guys just flipped-off 

Virgin and said, "fuck you! Give us our money..." Do you have any regrets for 
not trying to work with them a little more and stayed with a major label? 
NH: Not regrets, no. It was all in good faith. There was no bad faith involved. 
I'm totally clear on it. Because they could've made a couple of smart decisions 
and made it work. We knew that if we were able to keep at it we could always go 
back and start doing records for Drag City again and use this as something to 
talk about. But it really would've been great to do another record with David 
(Briggs). 
EM: Wasn't that the original plan? David Briggs was supposed to produce Sweet 
16. 
NH: Yeah, but then he died. See when we did Sweet 16 we'd just recorded the 
basic tracks at home and we sent it to somebody to mix. It was that guy who had 
just mixed the huge Collective Soul record. We were trying to say to Virgin 
that, "hey, we don't have our heads up our asses here. We're getting a guy who 
mixed and recorded the Collective Soul record." But they were like, " Collective 

who?" 
EM: So why have Royal Trux avoided using another producer after the great work 
David Briggs' did on Thank You? 
NH: We never have a lack for ideas. We never need someone to shape us into 
something. And we always know what we want to do. I can imitate anybody's work. 
It's no big deal. We wanted to work with Bob Ezrin. And at one time we were 
thinking about that Pearl Jam guy, Brendan O'Brien. But my whole philosophy is, 
"why pay someone to come in and do something that I can do by just listening to 
his records and ripping him off." We know we're never gonna get any airplay so 
we try to make a record that's worth fifteen or eighteen dollars to buy. 
EM: Do you have a favorite Royal Trux record? 
NH: I don't know. I like 'em at different times. A lot of them I can't listen to 

because of different memories. Like Pound for Pound ...right now I can't listen 
to that at all. The only music I don't like is stuff that's associated with bad 
memories. If the truth be told, I talk shit about everybody's business because 
sometimes I make sense and it works. But I really have no aesthetics at all. I 
like everything. I like the sound of noise and radios and shit like that. 
EM: I thought Veterans of Disorder was amazing. 
NH: I like that one a lot. Something happened on that one. Accelerator, the 
record before, was well received and then when we released Veterans we thought 
it might sell. But it sold almost the exact same amount as Accelerator. Jennifer 

got pissed at Drag City because that didn't really promote that record. I was 
like, "hey man, that records our life..." To get on the radio you have to pay 
something like $20,000 just to work the record for a week. And that's stupid 
because we could make that much money if sold 3000 records. 
EM: But Drag City has always been supportive of Royal Trux. Even after you left 
they were there when the major label didn't work out. 
NH: Oh yeah. Real supportive. Even when we were on Virgin they did the vinyl for 

Thank You. 
EM: Would you like to go back to being on a major label? 
NH: Oh yeah. I would love to. But you see the records we made that were 
supposedly "real" are the ones people think we "sold-out" on. On the first 
record we were supposedly these wild animals who'd been captured in the studio 
in this natural moment. Like a voyeuristic thing of people who were crazy. We 
would read reviews and it would say all this shit. So we said "OK, if that's 
what we are then..." After that we'd just get really wasted and go out to clubs 
and make a scene and the next day it was, "Royal Trux did this and Royal Trux 
did that..." 
EM: You recently had a song, "Radio Song" on the soundtrack to that John Cusack 
film High Fidelity. Do you think something like that really helps your record 
sales? 
NH: Yeah that was sweet. It will definitely help us get more soundtracks. But I 
don't know about the selling records part. It's hard to tell. It's like shooting 

the moon. Sometimes I think if you just stick around long enough. That's one 
thing about somebody like say Sonic Youth. If you just keep at it for say maybe 
10 or 20 years sooner or later everybody loves you. 
EM: Did you see the movie? 
NH: No...I would never see that movie. My parents went to see it. I couldn't 
wait to tell them, "hey...we're getting a song in a movie." (Here Neil does an 
impression of his mother's voice). "Oh, we're so happy for you. Finally after 
all these years of failure. When are you gonna be on the Ed Sullivan Show? Or 
Saturday Night Live?" 
EM: I read where Brian Wilson felt a strong sense of competition with the other 
big acts of that time period; Dylan, the Beatles, and the Stones. I see you as a 

composer because that's basically what you do. Do you have any sense of 
competition among today's songwriters? 
NH: Not mainstream. But I do with people like Edith (Frost), Will (Oldman), Jim 
(O'Rouke). 
EM: You've worked with all those people. 
NH: Because I really like their music. But it's kinda ridiculous. I mean back in 

those days with bands like the Byrds and the Beach Boys it was different. I love 

that story about Brian Wilson going to watch the Stones record that song "My 
Obsession" off Between the Buttons. He smoked all this weed before he went and 
then had a major panic attack. He said it was the most beautiful piece of music 
he'd ever heard. And was like, (fragile artist voice) "I'm never writing another 

song again..." But it was a great song. 
EM: A lot of times the Trux tackle specific genres of rock music just to prove 
they can do it. For instance a song like "Shockwave Rider" where you showed you 
could make records just as good as Beck. 
NH: It's all about genre. Something like John Lennon's "Jealous Guy." Complete 
isolation. You know what is really awesome in that vein is "Angie." Or even 
Pearl Jam. I know they're like this bad rock band except for that song "Don't 
Call Me Daughter." And I always hated Neil Young when I was a kid because girls 
always liked him. With Neil Young you just sit there. If it was just me I'd be 
like that fucker in Doonesbury with the football jersey who plays the piano and 
keeps the chicks in rapt attention as he tells stories of love. And I think 
sometimes I could do that and do it well. Like this new record, Neil Michael 
Hagerty. That's just the real me trying to separate out from the whole Royal 
Trux thing. 
EM: So you're looking to get rid of all the Royal Trux baggage? 
NH: Yeah... all the bullshit. Or what I consider bullshit. And I can't even 
verbalize it to you. Its like some shows you go out there and you know you can 
just bullshit 'em. Which is something I never want do. 
EM: I don't think you do have to do that. 
NH: No, I don't because I want to go out there and write something as valuable 
as Bertolt Brecht wrote. And I'm not saying I want to be like this or that. I 
just want you, the audience, to be able to pay $7, have a few beers, sit down or 

not, and you listen to the music. And its like us sitting down having some eats. 

After its over I go home. Because sometimes I try to be all things to all 
people. 
EM: How about Royal Trux (Adam & Eve) as producers? You guys seem to be doing a 
lot more of that these days. 
NH: I do a lot of stuff now with Drag City. I've got a deal with Dan (Korensky) 
where a get a salary. 
EM: Like an in-house producer. 
NH: Yeah. Its great because the people in Chicago are a real close knit 
community. So he likes to have me come in and produce his bands for him and 
maybe light a fire under them. 
EM: I've been listening to the Delta 72 record 000 you and Jennifer produced and 

it came out great. 
NH: That was in Philly. It was fun. And it came out really good. They want us to 

produce their next one too but I don't know. I'm supposed to do this new King 
Kong record next. The thing about that Delta 72 record is the studio we did it 
at is really good. The engineer there is this guy Mike Musmono(???) who was in 
Space Hog. The studio is all vintage shit. The guy who owns it drives around the 

south and buys shit from radio stations. And he knows how to fix it all and 
keeps it in great shape. And the band had rehearsed all the stuff and was 
super-tight when they got in there. Jennifer and I just tried to keep them away 
from being too much like the Rolling Stones. So we threw in some synthesizer and 

I changed the beats while they were playing. It was a situation where if the 
drummer had to think about it would've been different. I think it sounds great. 
The Myth 
All the crazy things I had to try
Well, I tried them all and then some...
- "Bessie Smith", Bob Dylan & The Band 
EM: You and Jennifer seem caught up in the whole rock myth thing. And you've 
used it to your advantage throughout your career. 
NH: And in a way that's why things are so fucked-up right now. Because Jennifer 
seems to be completely warped by it in a way that I never thought she could be. 
It's really sad because a lot of it has to do with the drugs; the whole VH-1 
thing. She and I used to laugh our asses off thinking about that shit. When we 
say we're not gonna really do something we really meant it. I'd rather die in a 
pool of my own vomit than play in some club where six people worship me and end 
up like Johnny Thunders. I'll get a job at fuckin' Wal-Mart first. And I think 
that's why we haven't had success. When we did drugs, we took more drugs than 
anybody we knew. It was like a competition at the time. 
EM: While you were doing drugs like that...like some competition, did you always 

have it in the back of your mind that you were gonna quit? 
NH: Well we knew we couldn't do it forever. I mean, today I'm still a fucking 
addict. If I had a beer right now I would end up selling my car and be up to 
three bags a day. When I finally had a chance to get clean and I went into the 
hospital, I got out and it was the way I used to be about taking drugs but now 
it was about not taking drugs. So it was hard of course because then it became a 

thing to me. People come into our dressing room and they smoke pot and I'll tell 

them to get the fuck out. I'll fight people over it. 
EM: Do you ever feel burdened by all that junkie mythology? 
NH: Yeah. We knew it was gonna happen. We did it on purpose and we exploited it. 

It's like the whole "Sympathy for the Devil" thing: "I laid tracks for 
troubadours who get killed beefier they reach Bombay." Or maybe more like, "if 
you think you can walk this road then we'll trick you into thinking its cool 
because you may die..." And its not that it makes the music more real. 
EM: It seemed like you were just playing into the part of "sex, drugs and rock 
'n' roll." Was it something you felt you had to indulge yourself into in order 
to be a rock star? 
NH: No...not like that. That's the whole idea. Its such a great thing because 
you sit there and you hear a song on the radio and then you hear that somebody 
like Rod Stewart flies everywhere on an airplane and he makes a zillion dollars 
a year. It's just the way our culture has become with this whole silicon breast 
mentality. So it ends up with you saying, "Fuck, I'm gonna do that. I'm gonna 
make money. I'm gonna take drugs. I'm gonna have affairs..." Its not like that 
stuff is cool. It just comes with the job. 
EM: There's been so many rumors going around about Royal Trux over the years. 
What's the most absurd you're ever heard? 
NH: The best rumor was: Royal Trux is not a band. Its just Virgin Records 
attempt to make an Alternative Monkee's. Thurston (Moore) supposedly started 
that rumor. It was fucking hilarious. It was going around right when we got 
signed. People were like, "what is this Royal Trux shit?" 
EM: You guy's doing a grunge Monkees. That's brilliant. 
NH: Yeah that was right around the time that Nirvana were "saints" in the 
industry. 
EM: You didn't like Nirvana's music? 
NH: Never liked Nirvana. The only thing I liked was that MTV acoustic record. I 
bought that. "All Apologies" is on there. 
EM: How about his version of "Where did you Sleep Last Night?" 
NH: See... that has to be the worst white blues song I've ever heard. It must be 

some East Coast / West Coast thing. Jennifer and I are pure East Coast. 
EM: But you lived out there for awhile, right? 
NH: Yeah but it was San Francisco. And a lot of people from the East Coast 
consider it acceptable West Coast living. All we did in San Francisco is get 
drunk every night, fuck with people and try to get them to beat us up. Then 
after awhile we got really, really bad and strungout. We left SF in total 
disarray. 
EM: Another great myth about you guys is that you used an advance from one of 
the record companies, Matador, to buy drugs. It's been described as "a fit of 
Miles Davis bravado." That you went out and scored dope with the money. 
NH: We did because we were totally strung out. But it was only $600. 
EM: I heard from Jennifer that you guys had to re-edit the interview you did 
with Keith Richards for Raygun Magazine a few years back because they kept 
sending it back to you. 
NH: They had us edit it and re-edit it. And they added a prologue. We knew what 
they wanted us to say but we just avoided it completely. It's like Andy Kaufman.
EM: The Trux are like the Andy Kaufman of rock music. 
NH: We definitely said that to ourselves at some point. We're like performance 
artists. 
The Band 
The union didn't stand together
And the reunion choked...
- "Don't Try Too Hard" , Royal Trux 
EM: How about your days with Pussy Galore? I know you don't like to talk about 
it but... 
NH: I don't mind talking about it. That's just some bullshit I tell the 
publicist whenever they call up. You know, the whole "I don't want to talk about 

this or that and no Pussy Galore, a fleet of limos, whatever..." Just to piss 
people off. But I don't really care. 
EM: Weren't you living with Jon (Spencer) at one point? 
NH: Yeah initially we lived together. But we had to split-up because it was too 
weird. 
EM: Jon was supposedly straight edge. So living with you and Jennifer while you 
were using drugs must have been awkward. 
NH: They were but he was just from a different world than the one I was from. 
The way I look at it he was a Yankee and I was from the south. Any kind of weird 

shit that happened was totally based on that. 
EM: Do you ever see Spencer these days? 
NH: Well we're really in different worlds because he's on Matador and lives in 
New York. So its like we're in parallel universes. 
EM: I'm guessing you still get checks from Pussy Galore? 
NH: I got one when they reissued all the records. It sat on my desk for a long 
time. They sent it to my dad because it was the only address they had. My dad 
calls me and you know, he can't say "Pussy Galore" so he says, "You got a check 
here from that "Galore" group you were in..." 
EM: So how'd you end up playing guitar for them? 
NH: I was in DC and I was working on shit. Pussy Galore was already there and 
they had their shit together. They had money. And DC was this small-minded music 

community at the time. Because the whole city is just nothing but politics, 
politics, politics. It was what being a politician in Los Angeles must be like. 
So we were all friends and this guy knew this guy who knew another guy who knew 
me. So I said, "yeah I'll go..." Because I wanted to learn how you do a tour and 

how you make records. 
EM: You wanted to get into the business. 
NH: Yeah I guess they did if you think about it. It was more like my National 
Service. And at first it was always weird because I was the only one in the band 

who could play. I'd fuck around and play one string sometimes and I didn't care 
what the band said to me. Sometimes I'd lay down on stage. But at the time it 
was my thing. Jon had some money and invested it in into the band. And I admired 

those guys like Julie (Cafritz) who knew about shit like Arthur Miller. She was 
from some serious super-rich types and she knew all kinds of shit. We would 
always get them to talk about Godard or some bullshit because she had gone to 
some Ivy League school like Brown. And I had all these embryonic ideas at the 
time. So I was getting a free college education in exchange for playing in their 

band. 
EM: It seems like a fair exchange. It got you into the business and got your 
name out there. 
NH: Yeah...you've got do it. I have no regrets about that. It's one of those 
things where it gives you so many different things to fuck around with. 
EM: It gave you access to equipment and it got you out on the road. 
NH: And he had a van too. Which was huge. I mean this was a time when we were 
putting quarters together to get a six-pack of Blatz. 
EM: Was Spencer giving you money to live on? 
NH: Nah... I just mooched. I mean I was a horrible, horrible mooch. When 
Jennifer finally moved up to New York I just mooched off her too. Luckily we 
eventually were able to mooch off each other. She went to college for a year so 
she had subsidized rent. For awhile when we were in New York I was completely 
fucked-up and she was working. She basically carried my ass from like 1987 to 
1989. I would say to her, " I swear to you I'm working very hard and we're going 

to make a lot of money in the near future." She believed in me. And I felt 
really good when I came through for her. She was working at some juice bar 
getting up early in the morning. She's really very disciplined when she wants to 

be. And then on the weekends we'd just go out and get fucking drunk. Just biding 

our time making art out of life. So as things in the music scene gradually began 

to get a little bit bigger with a band like Sonic Youth, all the other bands 
were able creep up under them. Thank god for Sonic Youth. They really burst the 
shit open for everybody. 
EM: You guys have always had a certain business savvy. The way you've been able 
to survive in this business is amazing. 
NH: Jennifer is amazing. She's very charismatic. It's weird because at the same 
time it's one of those things that's very dangerous for her because she can lie 
her ass off. She can be so self-destructive that way. You wouldn't believe some 
of the people who want to believe her. 
EM: So what happened with you guys quitting right in the middle of your Pound 
for Pound tour? 
NH: She relapsed and I said that was it: this fucking bands over; I quit. But no 

one believed me. And I started kind of hedging but she didn't get any better. 
The other guys in the band were cool. They'd been down this road before because 
they had their own drug problems. So me being in this intense state of sober 
where I'm always in a Co-Dependent situation and always wondering, "where's 
Jennifer?" And it enables her to use it as an excuse that I'm being an asshole 
whose trying to control her. Or on the other hand she can get away with it 
because she knows I'm gonna stay clean and she can fuck-up and I'll fix 
everything. It comes from her needing to take medication. And it just feeds into 

her addiction. There's been times where she's tried to stay sober but there's 
other issues at work. That's the thing with her. It's very hard because 
occasionally she gets susceptible to throat infections or allergies and they get 

really bad and the next thing you know she's shooting dope. She doesn't like 
pain and she doesn't like needles. Of course when we were all strung out it 
didn't matter that much. Most bands when you have couples involved like X or 
Fleetwood Mac, the couples broke-up but the bands stayed together. And without 
the drugs involved there wasn't the weird mind games anymore. Once I got removed 

from that I was able to appreciate nice things again instead of being all 
twisted. I was playing too many roles. But today its OK to be boring as far as 
what someone else thinks. I don't care anymore. Lou Reed and Patti Smith did the 

same thing. Now they're just dedicated to their music. They're actually good 
role models. I always think how great it would be if someone like Lou Reed came 
out and said he'd never touched drugs in his life. It was all just bullshit he 
made up. 
EM: So are the Trux finished as a band? 
NH: Yeah... I'm done with it until the world changes. Its gonna be like this 
disembodied entity of me. 
EM: Were you really in Japan when you announced the break-up? It sounded kinda 
hokey the way it was written up on the Drag city website? 
NH: No, I was doing an interview with a Japanese magazine while I was in Chicago 

and they were shocked. Right after the interview they called Drag City and were 
like, "Neil has said some scandalous things and we think he's putting us on. 
What is the official word?" And they wouldn't believe it until Drag City put 
that up on their website. So they wrote it up like some joke and then I started 
getting all this email, "Oh my god you guys can't break-up!" And I was like, 
"you know Jennifer's had a relapse, man. What do you think we should do?" 
Jennifer always says Royal Trux can't break-up because it exists as an entity 
between she and I. But if she doesn't get her shit together I don't know what's 
gonna happen. I guess go see her in LA. 
EM: How's Jennifer doing now? 
NH: I don't know. She got out of the hospital in February and she seems to be 
doing OK. But I don't know. We'll see when I get back because this is the first 
I've been gone since she got out of the hospital so its a very dangerous time. 
But it's been so many years of this shit that I don't give a fuck anymore. I 
have to worry about my own sobriety. And I'll do anything to stay clean. I'll 
sell my grandmother to stay clean. 

2 0 0 1

Southern Discomfort: Neil Hagerty Plays Songs Of 
Love And Loss On His New Album
by Carol Lee
Paper Magazine
March 2001 

Neil Hagerty of Royal Trux has just released his first solo album, which bears 
the more mature "I'm all grown up now" name Neil Michael Hagerty. Before forming 

Royal Trux in the late 80s, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and Free Kitten. When 
Pussy Galore broke up, Hagerty started Royal Trux with girlfriend Jennifer 
Herrema. 
Although the band formed more than a decade ago, Royal still means something to 
the over-everything rock kids. Neil and Jennifer always seemed too cool for 
school, but what they were doing together also seemed wildly romantic. Their 
story is Behind the Music material: You've got the Stevie Nicks/Lindsey 
Buckingham parallel; the hardcore junkie rap, with Jennifer actually cashing in 
on '90s heroin chic by modelling for a cK jeans campaign; and the group's 
May-December fling with a major label, Virgin Records. When the deal soured in 
the mid-90s, Hagerty and Herrema secluded themselves in rural Virginia to chill 
out and make music on their own terms - which meant no compromises. The couple's 

trash-rock sound was characterized by messy guitar noise colliding with snarling 

vocals. It wasn't exactly friendly, but it was definitely exciting. 
So when Neil Hagerty drops a solo album it makes you wonder, what's up with 
Royal Trux? And what happened to Jennifer? The self-titled album possesses a 
certain kind of ownership attitude, with a "Property of Neil Hagerty" feeling 
all over the sleeve. The music is soulful and electronic, but not in that Beck 
kind of way. It's still very much guitar rock with lots of melancholy funkiness. 

Basically, it's Royal Trux at its best... but there's no Jennifer in sight. 
Papermag chatted with Hagerty about Jennifer and their band, plus got the scoop 
on his obsessions - DTV, reality shows, and cars. It seems like he's still 
living the teenage dream. 
CAROL LEE: I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to call you at 7 o'clock my time 

or yours. I don't even know where you are. 
Neil Hagerty: The Stooges just ended on TV, so I figure it's around 7. 
CL: Where are you? 
NH: Home. Virginia. 
(Holy shit, it's Neil Hagerty.) 
CL: I really like your new album. I like the third song and "Creature Catcher" 
and the one after that a lot. 
(Ohmygod, I'm such a dork.) 
CL: Are you happy with it? 
NH: Uh... well, yeah, I like it. I think it's pretty good. 
CL: I guess my first question is: Why is this a solo album and not a Royal Trux 
album? 
NH: Well, the last time we were on tour things kinda fell apart. The band kinda 
fell apart. 
CL: But the band's always been you and Jennifer and everyone else revolved 
around the two of you. 
NH: Jennifer needs to get her shit together. She's kind of functioning on 
cylinders. 
CL: So are you guys still together? 
NH: Who? The band? 
CL: The band. And you and Jennifer. 
NH: It's kind of up in the air. Usually couples break up and then the band 
breaks up, but we're doing it the other way around. We're breaking the mold. 
(laughs) It's hard when you live together. 
CL: I just broke up with my boyfriend of seven years and we both anticipated the 

breakup. But it didn't happen until one of us moved out. 
NH: So did you end up keeping the place? 
CL: Yeah. But this is New York, and I know couples that stay together because 
they can't afford the rent on their own. 
NH: Yeah, that's true. (laughs) 
(He's more engaging and easy-going than I imagined. He has kind of a junkie rock 

'n' roll Virginia drawl thing going on. Or maybe he's just stoned. Either way, 
it's sexy. Every sentence trails off into an almost inaudible "but, you know, 
whatever." He laughs and says "shit, man" a lot. ) 
CL: So, you like The Stooges? 
NH: Yeah, The Three Stooges. Not The Stooges. 
CL: Yeah, I meant The Three Stooges. 
NH: Everyone thinks I'm talking about The Stooges. 
CL: So, what kind of music do you listen to these days? 
NH: I mostly listen to the radio. The station here will play Bare Naked Ladies, 
Creed, and then they'll throw in Dixie Chicks in between. You know, this is 
Virginia. I find myself humming the tunes later. (I can't picture Neil humming 
the words to "One Week.") Then I listen to a lot of talk shows, too. 
CL: Do you ever listen to your old stuff? 
NH: Yeah, sometimes. When I had four albums I listened to them more, but now I 
think I have, like, 10. 
CL: Do you still like them? 
NH: Yeah, but you know, I made them, so I still like them. 
CL: I read some of your Big Brother journal that's on your Web site. At first I 
thought you were keeping a journal as you were watching the show. But then the 
more I read it I started to think that you were actually on the show. 
NH: I got sucked into it then started to pretend like I was on the show. I 
wanted people to say "he just thinks he's in it." You know, how people say, "he 
thinks he's so cool." I like to fuck with people. "Taking the piss on people," 
as the British would say. 
CL: Do you feel like you're fucking with people when you put out your music? 
NH: Well, not with everybody. Just with the people who decide what's good and 
what's bad. We wanted to cash in on the whole reality TV phenomenon, but we 
picked the wrong show. Yeah, it (Big Brother) never made those Nielson ratings. 
CL: Do you watch Survivor and Temptation Island? 
NH: Yeah. 
CL: You're a TV junkie. Do you watch The Real World and Road Rules, too? 
NH: No, I can't watch MTV or any music channels. 
CL: Not even Behind the Music? 
NH: No. 
CL: Why not? 
NH: For me to watch and see all those pipe dreams is a luxury I can't afford. I 
prefer to watch sports because they're improvised and you can bet on it. I 
sometimes stay up watching TV until 4 in the morning since I don't have to go to 

work the next day - I never wake up before noon. But I didn't have a TV from the 

age of 17, when I moved out of my parents' house, until my mid 20s. I started 
playing music so I could get girls and wouldn't have to work at a regular job. 
(It's weird to hear Neil Hagerty say that the reason he got into music is to get 

more chicks. It's funny, he doesn't seem like the type. I wanted to make sure I 
heard him right.) 
CL: But you've been with the same girl for, I don't know, like, 10 years. 
NH: Yeah, we've been together for about 15 years. That's what's funny, it's an 
anomaly. I didn't know it was gonna be like that. It just happened. 
CL: Did you make the Royal Trux Web site? 
NH: Yeah, I learned HTML so I could do it myself. You know, keeping up with 
technology. 
CL: Do you guys make money from your online catalog? 
NH: Yeah, we do. 
CL: What's the best-selling item? 
NH: Right now, our video "At Gettysburg." 
CL: Have you seen DTV (digital TV)? 
NH: Yeah, I have a satellite. 
CL: I went over to my friend's house and saw DTV and fell in love with it. It 
blew my mind, especially the music channels. 
NH: You can even order the music instantly if you have a WebTV from CDNow. 
CL: My friend was really into the 24-7 car race channel. 
NH: Yeah, Speedvision. It's like car pornography. I actually just bought a car, 
a Chevy Montecarlo '86. It's pretty bad. 
CL: It's bad? 
NH: No, like bad-ass. It's huge and has great design. 
CL: Do you like driving? 
NH: I do. I'm trying to learn how to fix cars too. But people get frustrated 
with me because if I miss an exit I won't cross three lanes to get over there. 
I'll just wait for the next one and turn around. They want me to be more 
reckless. 
CL: Do you drive a lot when you're on tour? 
NH: Yeah, because I'm the sober one. 
CL: Do you miss living in New York? 
NH: I miss it a lot. 
CL: Do you ever think about moving back? 
NH: All the time. I will in the future. But it's so gentrified now. And I have a 

house here in Virginia. 
CL: Does Jennifer still live there? 
NH: Yeah, she does. But I don't know... (He mumbles something and trails off 
into another "you know, whatever.") 
CL: How old are you? 
NH: 35. But I still get carded for cigarettes sometimes. I think all the dope I 
did actually helped to preserve my skin. I was never into speed or anything. 
CL: Do you like getting older? 
NH: Yeah, I've been looking forward to it all my life. I want to be that weird 
old man who's still into young stuff. Kinda like a kid/old man. 
CL: Do you see yourself as a career musician? What I mean by that is, you 
obviously make music because you love it, but is it important for you to make a 
living out of it? 
NH: I want to make music till I die or whatever, but at the same time I'm not 
gonna deny that I'm also in it to achieve prosperity. 
CL: How do you see your music in relation to the world... as in how would you 
rate the significance of your music? Or do you even care about that stuff? 
NH: I would rate it about as significant as Pez. That is, very. 

Single File : Former Royal Trux king Neil Michael Hagerty burns rubber on some 
tunes
by Jay Ruttenberg
Time Out Issue 296
May 24-31, 2001 

Black Crowes: "Midnight from the Inside Out" (V2) 
NEIL MICHAEL HAGERTY: Sounds like Chris Robinson. I heard he was married to Kate 

Hudson or some shit. 
Time Out New York: Supposedly. 
NMH: Sweet. The Black Crowes have a good thing going. They sound just like 
Humble Pie when Peter Frampton was in the band. Same hooks and everything. 
Robinson sings exactly like Steve Marriott. Steve Marriott's dead, and you've 
got to have somebody doing this. 
TONY: Don't you think they're sort of poseurs? 
NMH: Well, what are they posing as? Who's the authentic version? It's an 
argument that I just don't give a fuck about. They're not personally intruding 
on my well-being. 
Johnny Cash: "I See a Darkness" (Columbia) 
NMH: Is this Johnny Cash doing that Will [Oldham] song? I've been waiting to 
hear this. I saw Will in an Ikea in Maryland a little while ago. It was pretty 
weird. 
TONY: Did you talk to him? 
NMH: No. I didn't want to interrupt his shit. He was loading something into his 
car, and I was just getting there. I didn't want to explain why I was way up in 
Maryland. At Ikea. 
TONY: You drove from Virginia to Maryland just to go to Ikea? 
NMH: I was up there visiting Jennifer [Herrema, Hagerty's longtime partner in 
life and Royal Trux]. She was in the hospital up there. She's home now, back 
from her six-month coffee break. 
TONY: So it's not true that you guys are romantically kaput? 
NMH: I don't think that's possible, because we're like family or something. 
TONY: But Royal Trux has broken up? 
NMH: Yeah. I couldn't deal with her drug-problem situation, and so I ended it. 
Jennifer says that ending Royal Trux isn't possible, because Royal Trux isn't a 
band: It's just me and her. Whatever. 
Eleventh Dream Day: "Way Too Early on a Sunday Morning" (Thrill Jockey) 
NMH: This sounds like Tom Verlaine and Bryan Ferry mixed together. Who is it? 
TONY: Eleventh Dream Day. 
NMH: I thought they were finito. 
TONY: From what I understand, it's the opposite situation from you: They broke 
up as a married couple but not a band. 
NMH: Jennifer and I would definitely not want to do that. That's what always 
happens. John Doe and Exene split up but the band [X] stayed together, or 
Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks. Yet with guys, if they break up a 
friendship, that breaks up the band. Somehow if a man and a woman break up, the 
band can stay together. This sounds so much like Television. Drag City heard 
that Verlaine might be interested in doing a record with the label. We're all 
like, "Oh, Lordy! You better widen the door!" I have too much awe for the old 
guys to even associate with them. It's like with baseball playersin a couple 
years I'll be twice as old as a lot of them, but I'll still think of them as 
being older than I am. Cliff "Ukulele Ike" Edwards: "Give It to Mary with Love" 
(Bean Snicker) 
TONY: This singer played the voice of Jiminy Cricket. 
NMH: Oh, right! Ukulele Ike. There's a great collection on Rounder of new 
recordings of old folk songs. It's real fucking dirty shit. I like 
double-entendres songs like this, and drug songs from way back then, too. 
TONY: Do you listen to a lot of comedy records? 
NMH: As much as anybody else. Firesign Theatre, Lenny Bruce, Richard Pryor, 
George Carlin. After that, it gets slim. I watch a lot of comedy on TVChris 
Rock, Lewis Black. [Imitating Black] "Bllaaargh!" That must be hard to do. 
Stephen Malkmus: "Jennifer and the Ess-Dog" (Matador) 
NMH: Whenever I hear Steve sing, I think, Oh, this dude's British. But this is 
cool. It sounds like a cue from a movie. What I like best about his songs is 
trying to figure out where all the little pieces come from. What is this? 
Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah. 
TONY: Do you think this song is about you and Jennifer? 
NMH: Probably not. His solo thing is great, cause he can sell as many records as 

Pavement did, but he doesn't have to split the money. Doo-dah-doodah-doo. Fuck! 
What is this? 
TONY: When Pavement and Royal Trux were starting out on Drag City, people always 

compared the two bands. Now you both have solo debuts. 
NMH: Yeah, the timing is an interesting coincidence, though I don't think 
there's ever been too many parallels. Dah-dah-nah-nah-nah. Oh! This is John 
Cale's "Paris 1919." I love that song!