Leaning back in the Silverchair: A relaxed chat with the world's most famous lads by: Sarah Chauncey
Before the Chart interview, Silverchair made an
appearance on Toronto radio station The Edge 102
with George who-has-the-world's-longest-last-name
[Stromboulopoulos, actually-Fact-checking ed.].
Around 200 kids, both male and female, surrounded
the mobile studio where "Live In Toronto" is
broadcast; George said some of them had been
there since early morning. All of them, it seemed,
were screaming. The security guards — we're talking
massively beefy, big guys — were holding them back.
The way "Live In Toronto" is set up, the host and
guests face a window in the trailer-studio, so that the
audience can watch from outside (brrr). Silverchair
fans pounded against the window, climbing on top of each other and screaming (one
girl yelled — very loudly, very clearly and very live on-air — "Fuck me, Daniel!"). The
trailer began rocking back and forth, leading the band's tour manager to comment,
"It's a good thing the trailer is bolted down." At CFOX in Vancouver, he recalled, the
studio wasn't anchored, and the only thing that kept it from completely flipping over
was that there were an equal number of fans on either side, so they counterbalanced
each other.
The window became sort of a moot point, as the weight of dozens of kids eventually
popped the plastic pane — again, while the show was live on-air. Before the dozens
could climb in and damage thousands of dollars of equipment (not to mention a few
human beings), more beefy security guards were dispatched to push the crowd back.
During commercial breaks, the tour manager handed the band cards to autograph;
they passed them around like blackjack dealers and signed them with hurried
precision. (The next part — I was mistaken for Daniel's mother — is in the April 1999
issue of Chart magazine.)
One thing that completely surprised me was that the Silverchair boys —
singer/guitarist Daniel Johns, bassist Chris Joannou and drummer Ben Gillies —
seem a bit lacking in knowledge as to how the publicity machine works. This led into a
conversation about how the business of music can sometimes kind of suck.
Is Bullshit Mandatory?
Cameron Diaz once said, "They don't pay me
to act in movies; they pay me to do all the
press."
Chris: How does that work? Like, say she's made a
video, right? Who would set up the interviews?
Would it…
Ben: She's probably got a manager, Chris.
Chris: No, listen, listen. Would it be her manager, or
would it be someone [else]?
It would probably be either her publicist or the
publicist for the movie. You know when they
say, "I'll have my people call your people"?
Actors have a lot of "people." I hate this whole
thing with "people." I stopped doing a lot of
music writing, because I felt like the industry was killing my love of music. Do
you ever feel that way? Just, like the bullshit isn't about the music, it's about
"moving product."
Ben: You do, you get sick of it, but, like, you get sick of all the bullshit, but then you've
got to think, well if there wasn't the bullshit…
Daniel: Eventually the music wins, I think.
Ben: Plus, if there wasn't all the bullshit, like, how would you get that music to that
many people? Know what I mean? They're not there to serve your best interests;
they're there to make a buck. That kind of gives them incentive to work hard… It's all
good.
Ben and Chris [affecting American accents]: It's all goooood.
Ben and Chris on Breakfast and Coping
Chris: Ben, every morning, normally if there's eggs
on the breakfast buffet, he'll have, like, a boiled egg
with like a runny yolk, and he dips his toast in it.
Yuck.
Ben: Oh, it's beautiful. You do it for three minutes
exactly. And you bang on the top with a spoon…
Chris: You take the top off —
Ben: — and you dip your toast in it.
I'm a burn-it-all.
Ben: Charcoal meat?
Chris: You've got to have a bit of pink, some blood.
[This appears to be for Daniel-the-vegan's benefit.]
If you could go back five years and tell your younger selves something, what
would it be? What do you wish you'd known then that you know now?
Chris: Don't get so attached to your home environment. That's what I miss most is the
home, just hanging around a home.
How do you cope with that?
Chris: You do sometimes get, like, "This is shit, I don't want to do this, blah blah blah,"
but then, we're having a blast. Home's not going anywhere; THIS is the thing that might
not be around forever.
Ben: I wouldn't want to do anything [differently]. I don't think, even if I did go back in
time, I wouldn't tell myself things, like, that I know now, because it was just so perfect…
It's just happened so naturally. It was just lots of fun… It still is now, it still is fun.
Pulling the 'Chair out from Under
Bands that tour together tend to play pranks on
each other, especially on the last night of a
campaign. Among the pranks that other bands
have pulled on Silverchair: Red Hot Chili Peppers
hired a female stripper to dance onstage during
Silverchair's set; Everclear brought out an
anatomically-correct blow-up doll; the Peppers
also played a part in Daniel being arrested for
driving along a beach in California. When the
cops found out who he was, they asked for an
autograph.
Tour manager John Watson: We had to go
somewhere, like, for an interview or something
[after] those Everclear shows, and they threw
talcum powder everywhere. We go to the next
airport, and they go to check the gear, and there's
all this white stuff all over, like a big bag of
cocaine had exploded.
Ben: The best one was Local H, when we got those two male strippers; one was a
policeman and one was a fireman.
I heard about the strippers the Chili Peppers hired for you, but I didn't know
Local H, too… Do bands start one-upping each other?
Daniel: We did the strippers to Local H; they didn't do it to us.
That's another question: What's the best prank you've ever pulled on another
band?
Ben: I've got another idea… I can't remember what band it was, but the new thing to
do was, it's either chocolate or brown lipstick, and you put it all over the vocal
microphones, and they go to sing and they've got their lips up against it, and so when
they pull away, it looks like they've got shit all over their mouth. Another good one is
chili, like really hot chili, and you put it on there and they go, "Yaaaaaaahhh!!!"
Daniel: If someone did that to me, they wouldn't be playing again.
Chris: Aw, the chili one's kind of harsh, but the other one's not.
Ben: Then there were the pornos everywhere.
John: [One band] went around, and they covered every surface that you could see
from onstage with… on the back of the P.A.s, the monitors…
Ben: Some really beat chicks in, like, you name it…
John: And they covered every surface with it. The band was onstage, pissing
themselves laughing, but the audience had no idea what was going on.
How did you decide on the Local H prank?
Ben: It was after the Chili Peppers' one, so I think it kind of came from there. But we
didn't want to get girl strippers, we had to get the male ones. We had to have the guys.
It was so funny. One of them was hung like a horse, and he was there [gyrating] doing
the whole thing. It was so funny.
He probably loved you guys!
Why Daniel's A Vegan
Daniel's bicep is skinnier than my
forearm, and even though I'm
considerably bigger than he is, I wonder
how he can even hold up a guitar — and if
he's healthy. I know from friends that it's
difficult for vegans to get the right
nutritional balance, but I think I sounded
kind of patronizing when I blurted out,
"Are you okay? Are you healthy?"
Daniel: When we're on the road, I eat
mainly cereal and fruit and vegetables,
because I don't really trust restaurants.
But I get all the nutritional things that I
need; I've been to the doctor to make sure
that all my nutritional levels are right. I was a vegetarian when I was 16 [years old], and
I became a vegan when I was 17, so it's been about three years.
I wanted to give you a chance to talk about animal rights, if you want.
Daniel: I started going off the idea, then I eventually made the decision. It was not… I
just felt like I had a moral obligation, started feeling guilty about eating meat. And then
when I was a vegetarian, I felt guilty for consuming dairy products, so I just stopped it
all, stopped wearing it and everything. I don't like to shove it down people's throats, but
I just think when you're in a position where people can hear your voice, you should
speak up on what you believe in. I'm not a fascist about it or anything.
And that's where the tape ran out. We finished dinner, and… Well, read the
rest of it in the April '99 issue of Chart magazine.
