In the early 80s, while fronting the hardcore band Black Flag, Henry Rollins often got into fistfights with rowdy audience members. He fully lived the punk lifestyle, barely scraping by, touring everywhere, and lifting weights to build his heavily tattooed body into an impressive physique. Then in 1983 he discovered a latent talent for speaking to audiences. Later, as he founded his legendary Rollins Band, he carved out time to further develop his skills at storytelling.
Through diligence and hard work, Rollins has channeled physical and spiritual rage into an engaging intellectual act. His “talking tours” (as he likes to call them) are full of wry colorful tales of world travel, political observation, angry thoughts on social injustice, self-effacing insights and more than a little offbeat humor. No two shows are the same, but they’re often sprinkled with frustrated sensitivity to the inequality of LGBT experience.
At 49, Rollins is buff, sexy and sharp. He brings his Frequent Flyer Tour to Clearwater on Mar. 2 and to Orlando on Mar. 4.
WATERMARK: Hey, we’re going to have you on the cover!
HENRY ROLLINS: Damn, cool! I’ll make sure I give extra-large gay answers. [Laughs]
Each year we create three consecutive issues dedicated to love, sex and marriage. Guess which one you landed on?
Sex? Nifty! You should’ve called me during the Reagan era.
You speak around the world, you’re an activist, you’re on the radio, you create documentaries and films you act in films and on TV, you write books, produce music, you record albums, you’ve done seven USO tours, you are an obsessive reader, and you work out regularly. What do you do with all your free time?
Sleep. And besides everything you described I spend a lot of time online. Kids write me, and if they have a fanzine I’ll always agree to an email interview. To unwind I try to listen to new music or watch films. But usually I’m a working stiff.
You first became known as lead singer for Black Flag and then the Rollins Band. Somewhere in the midst of that you became a hero to gay people. Can you tell us how that happened?
[Laughs] Well, even back in the Black Flag days we had gay fans. I come from Washington, D.C., which is a very gay city. My mom had gay friends. I had gay bosses. I went to an all-boys’ school, so of course I had gay classmates. So the gay thing was never terrifying to me. I never went, “Ugh, a gay guy!”
In the 80s, a magazine asked me what I thought of gay people, and I honestly said it was not an issue for me. There’s nothing wrong going on there; you were born with your sexual orientation.
That’s interesting, coming from your musical background.
I’ve heard–quite often, actually–that there is a lot of homophobia in the hard rock world. So that surprised me, because I don’t know if I’ve been around a lot of that, honestly. We’ve always had a lot of gays at our shows, and it was never an issue.
When Bush came into office, the homophobes came out of the woodwork. Out came the extreme Christian people, and out came the Phelps family with their “God Hates Fags!’ signs. I mean, look at these idiots! And Bush basically gave them the green light by giving hundreds of millions of dollars to faith-based organizations to teach sex ed. It was Bush basically saying, “Don’t worry… I hate the gays, too.” And that permission changed everything.
It reminded me of when I was in school. There was this gay guy I knew. One teacher would use an effeminate voice when he called his name during roll-call. When the teacher made fun of this guy, it gave everyone in school permission. They’d flush his head down the toilet, and he tried to slash his wrists in his dorm room. He was an upperclassman, so I never really talked to him. But, today, that sort of cruelty just will not stand with me.
The DC punk rock scene was so full of gay people. Maybe they didn’t fit in elsewhere, so they came to punk rock. I myself was a geek. No one liked me, so punk rock sort of saved me, too.
These days, all of this is on my radar, and I’m very outspoken about it. There’s probably some awareness in the gay community that I am loud on the topic, so they call me a hero.
Homophobia is so idiotic. I mean, you’re gay: Was there any question for you?
No, not really.
Right! When I saw my first Playboy as a kid, I was like, “That’s what I like!” There was nothing I could do about it. Imagine someone coming to me and saying, “Guess what? We got you a boyfriend, and that’s how you’re going to roll now.” I’d say, “Well, no….” Could they turn me around by putting me into this magical summer camp– like we’re in some Twilight Zone episode? Are you freakin’ kidding me?
It’s a funny idea!
Yeah, but it’s also sad. It’s obviously the way you’re born. I don’t know who would be jumping up and down about being gay. Imagine being born in Montana, and one sunny morning you realize, “OK, this is how it is.” Then imagine having to come out to your Montana dad.
Do you see the nation’s climate changing?
Oh, yes, definitely. I think Proposition 8 in California will eventually be seen for what it is, which is a civil rights issue. I can’t see 19 and 20-year-olds with tattoos and earrings hanging out of their mouths raising homophobic kids. It seems to be an older person’s problem, specifically an older Christian’s problem. The only thing in the way of gay rights is ignorance. That’s changing.
So what about the rest of the political landscape? What about Barack Obama?
He’s not doing what I voted for. I think he’s great, but he’s got to stand up to the Right. ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ should’ve been gone on day one. He should’ve walked into the Oval Office and said, “Good morning, my name is Barack Obama, and we’re repealing ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.’ Now, can someone bring me a cup of coffee?
He should’ve come to town like the new sheriff and said, “Here’s how I roll.” Instead he shook a bunch of hands and came back with bloody finger stumps from people who are never going to like him or agree with him.
I don’t want to be in Afghanistan anymore. I don’t want to be in Iraq. These people have fought off every invader or occupier since before Christ, so we’re just giving them target practice. There’s no upside to these wars—not one—–and it was all so avoidable.
I also don’t think Obama’s gone far enough with the stimulus. I think he could very well be a four-year president, and it’ll be his own fault. I want all Americans to have health care. I don’t want some guy to lose his house because his wife gets breast cancer. People like to say America has the best health care anywhere, and I say, “Yeah, if you can get it.”
I never quite understood that—how the poorest people in America get in bed with big corporations and call it Christianity.
Because you can take someone who might not be the brightest bulb on the tree and, if they’re angry, you can direct it. A mad person is very malleable, very emotionally available. In this country, insurance companies have gotten poor Midwesterners who desperately need health care to rant against their own best interests. It’d be funny if it weren’t so tragic. They can call me a Socialist or whatever they want; I still think they need health care.
Is this some of the political stuff that ends up in your spoken word show?
‘Spoken word’ sounds boring, like some kumbaya thing. It’s not really stand-up, because it’s not always funny. I call it a ‘talking show.’ When I started in the 80s people called it “spoken word” and I thought, “Oh no, I’m screwed. No one is going to come see it!”
You’re often called a “raconteur.”
That’s fine, I’m a storyteller. To some, it’s entertainment, though I see it as more vital than that. But when you refuse to acknowledge that it’s at least part entertainment, then you verge on taking yourself too seriously.
I love it. Not to put the band down, but being without them affords me latitude. Now I can travel, have an experience, bring it back to the stage, stir-fry it, steam it and serve it. For instance, the other night I was in Dublin. Forty-eight hours before I was in Bamako, Mali. Straight out of Mali, I gave it to the Dublin audience: “Here it is, folks, still breathing.” If you write a song about an experience, the audience may hear it a year later.
Coming from a humble background, did you ever think your life would be like this?
Hell no! As a musician I assumed I’d be in debt forever, and I was fine with it. So it’s better then I ever imagined. Some say that when you get some money you get lazy. For me it’s had the opposite effect, because I can come up with a really good idea and actualize it.
I’ve been very fortunate, I know that. So I try to make good by telling good stories, selling cheap tickets, and keeping merchandise affordable. I’m not after anyone’s money; I’m after longevity. I want to be doing this in ten years. I want to be George Carlin—grey and in demand.
When I told people I was interviewing you, both gay and straight people mentioned how hot you are. How does it feel to be a sex symbol at 49?
At my age, you have to wrap it up and put it under the tree. Gay guys have been telling me I look good since I was 16. It’s very nice. I’ve never had a problem hearing that.
