Murdoc Interview
Esquire, May 2001
Murdoc, you don't look like the healthiest man on the planet. Have you been living the rock'n'roll lifestyle since you've been in Gorillaz?
Murdoc: Men's health! Men's shit-caked, sweaty arse cracks more like! The only concept of health I’m into is between the pages of Health and Efficiency, where aging hippy couples parade their embarrassed pubescent offspring like fourpenny rabbits. Seriously though, heroine chic has never been my bag either, it’s never had the same appeal as irresponsibly promoting an image of rubbing crystal meth into your eye sockets.
Who does your bass playing resemble most: Bill Wyman or Bootsy Collins?
Murdoc: Neither, really. My basslines are far more dub in origin. When we were in Jamaica recording the album, I got to work with Augustus Pablo’s bass man, Left Hand Junior Dan the Wobulator, he’s strictly roots and it was a real honour to jam with him.
Who are your heroes, musical or otherwise?
Murdoc: There have been many jocular luminaries of style, taste, and sound that have impressed me over the years; Fatty Arbuckle, Peter Faulk, Chuck Jones, Horse Mouth, and Ozzy Osbourne spring to mind off hand.
The members of Gorillaz are a bit of a motley crue. Can you sum up each one in a sentence?
Murdoc: I hated Mötley Crüe and it doesn’t matter how many tattoos or accidentally stolen home porno movies you pile on top of it all, you can not, as I firmly believe, polish a turd.
Do you all get on or are there band tensions?
Murdoc: I’ve never met them, but I think their recent non-track record speaks for itself.
Do you secretly covet the front man role in Gorillaz?
Murdoc: Everyone knows that front men are vacuous, spoon-fed stooges who emblazon TV screens, magazine covers and bedroom walls for nanoseconds before winding up as embittered showbiz has-beens who can’t even do their own laundry now that their ex-management will no longer return their calls. Never forget that this is my band, my band!
Do you get many groupies, and if so, what do you do with them exactly?
Murdoc: What I do is take them back to my Winnebago and play them the Lamb Lays Down On Broadway. Genesis never fails with the birds, I’m telling you. If you wanna get dirty Abacab always gets them juicy, but my personal sure shot is “In the Air Tonight”. What woman could resist?
What word and colour symbolizes you best?
Murdoc: I would say Red Devil if it didn’t conjure up images of twatty little planes flying at each depositing lackluster, patriotically coloured smoke trails over aimless, swarming masses of old age pensioners at seaside resorts. So I’ll plump for Black Beauty.
Describe Gorillaz music to our readers.
Murdoc: With it, we're about to kick open a new ring piece for the tired old endgame of hackneyed popular music that is comprised of the turgid leftovers from the feeble-minded, consciousness-choking, half-arsed, lowest common denominator dross from last century's impotent pretenders to our crown.
What ambitions do you have for Gorillaz? Are you interested in superstardom and world domination?
Murdoc: I envisage a smorgasbord of sexual liaisons with nubile young fillies from my glands-end to me old–john-o’-scrot’. Then, after my coronation, I’ll make porn, smoking, and love bites compulsory on the national curriculum, and I will be setting exams.
Give one piece of advice to those of our readers who want to be just like you.
Murdoc: Act your bloody age. Admit it, when you were 13, you thought Herbie Hancock was something you went blind doing. I’m 36 right, and you don’t see me sporting a pair of poxy Vans canvas trainers with an ironic re-print of an 80’s Electro T-shirt, a shaved head, or a novelty Planet of the Apes badge and matching key chain while drooling over Silas dolls shouting “Wicked!,” do you? It’s shit, you’re shit, fuck off.
Murdoc: Men's health! Men's shit-caked, sweaty arse cracks more like! The only concept of health I’m into is between the pages of Health and Efficiency, where aging hippy couples parade their embarrassed pubescent offspring like fourpenny rabbits. Seriously though, heroine chic has never been my bag either, it’s never had the same appeal as irresponsibly promoting an image of rubbing crystal meth into your eye sockets.
Who does your bass playing resemble most: Bill Wyman or Bootsy Collins?
Murdoc: Neither, really. My basslines are far more dub in origin. When we were in Jamaica recording the album, I got to work with Augustus Pablo’s bass man, Left Hand Junior Dan the Wobulator, he’s strictly roots and it was a real honour to jam with him.
Who are your heroes, musical or otherwise?
Murdoc: There have been many jocular luminaries of style, taste, and sound that have impressed me over the years; Fatty Arbuckle, Peter Faulk, Chuck Jones, Horse Mouth, and Ozzy Osbourne spring to mind off hand.
The members of Gorillaz are a bit of a motley crue. Can you sum up each one in a sentence?
Murdoc: I hated Mötley Crüe and it doesn’t matter how many tattoos or accidentally stolen home porno movies you pile on top of it all, you can not, as I firmly believe, polish a turd.
Do you all get on or are there band tensions?
Murdoc: I’ve never met them, but I think their recent non-track record speaks for itself.
Do you secretly covet the front man role in Gorillaz?
Murdoc: Everyone knows that front men are vacuous, spoon-fed stooges who emblazon TV screens, magazine covers and bedroom walls for nanoseconds before winding up as embittered showbiz has-beens who can’t even do their own laundry now that their ex-management will no longer return their calls. Never forget that this is my band, my band!
Do you get many groupies, and if so, what do you do with them exactly?
Murdoc: What I do is take them back to my Winnebago and play them the Lamb Lays Down On Broadway. Genesis never fails with the birds, I’m telling you. If you wanna get dirty Abacab always gets them juicy, but my personal sure shot is “In the Air Tonight”. What woman could resist?
What word and colour symbolizes you best?
Murdoc: I would say Red Devil if it didn’t conjure up images of twatty little planes flying at each depositing lackluster, patriotically coloured smoke trails over aimless, swarming masses of old age pensioners at seaside resorts. So I’ll plump for Black Beauty.
Describe Gorillaz music to our readers.
Murdoc: With it, we're about to kick open a new ring piece for the tired old endgame of hackneyed popular music that is comprised of the turgid leftovers from the feeble-minded, consciousness-choking, half-arsed, lowest common denominator dross from last century's impotent pretenders to our crown.
What ambitions do you have for Gorillaz? Are you interested in superstardom and world domination?
Murdoc: I envisage a smorgasbord of sexual liaisons with nubile young fillies from my glands-end to me old–john-o’-scrot’. Then, after my coronation, I’ll make porn, smoking, and love bites compulsory on the national curriculum, and I will be setting exams.
Give one piece of advice to those of our readers who want to be just like you.
Murdoc: Act your bloody age. Admit it, when you were 13, you thought Herbie Hancock was something you went blind doing. I’m 36 right, and you don’t see me sporting a pair of poxy Vans canvas trainers with an ironic re-print of an 80’s Electro T-shirt, a shaved head, or a novelty Planet of the Apes badge and matching key chain while drooling over Silas dolls shouting “Wicked!,” do you? It’s shit, you’re shit, fuck off.