JH: Last time you played in Kansas City, it was a really great show at the Farm, an art gallery. Did you explicitly want to play there again?
What did you like about it?
"That it wasn't some shitty bar. I've seen enough of those to last me."
Your love of the blues is very evident throughout the new album [Forever Hasn't Happened Yet]. Have you always been a blues fan?
"Yep. I think after King of the Delta Blues, Robert Johnson's record, was available. I was probably 15 or 16, and some friends of mine, we had other blues records, Chicago blues records that were more available, but when we heard that, all bets were off."
Is that what made you want to play music in the first place?
"Oh, no, I was just like every other kid who saw the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. It looked like a good job."
Are you a pretty well-balanced, focused person?
"That wouldn't be the first thing that would pop into my head, but I try to be kind of --as even as possible. If I was crazier, I probably would have either self-destructed or become more famous. I try to be humble and do the right thing, which doesn't get you very far in rock music. That's considered sort of dull. I'd rather be that and be alive. Thankfully, I still have a cocktail or two and get a little bent outside."
So I hear you're pretty much a family man these days. Do you drive a minivan?
"No, I don't have a minivan. I do have one of those horrible [Chevrolet] Suburbans -- giant gas-guzzling vehicles. But I counterbalance that with a totally righteous 1989 Volvo 240 Sedan, which, anybody who thinks that they don't rock hasn't driven one. Everyone thinks that they're dull and they're icky. They're like a Mercedes but not as much baggage."
I never considered how an '80s Volvo could add to one's élan.
"They're scattered like wheat across the landscape of the hipster community in Los Angeles. It's because they last. They can get 300,000 miles on them. If I had the money, I'd buy a hybrid in a second."