A trip down mammary lane

Joining the Bloodhound Gang's Jimmy Pop in laughing at those less fortunate

by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

There's this sample in an old Third Bass song where some guy goes, "He's stupid, but he knows he's stupid, and that almost makes him smart." That, to me, sums up rapmetal retards the Bloodhound Gang, whose latest album Hooray for Boobies is benefiting from the ubiquitous airplay of "The Bad Touch," commonly referred to as "the Discovery Channel song." I rang up their hotel in NYC, and after a less-than-amused clerk patched me through to the room of "Dirk Ramrod," I had the pleasure of chatting with frontman Jimmy Pop about a wide variety of thought-provoking issues.

Mirror: When I first saw the video for "The Bad Touch," beginning of last November, I had just arrived in Europe. I think it had just started airing, because it had the part at the end where the dwarf mime gets nailed by the car. That part mysteriously disappeared after three days.

Jimmy Pop: Where were you?

M: In Amsterdam, at first, and then in Germany.

JP: Yeah, since we started touring over there, which was about '95, I've realized that the Dutch people have no inhibitions. They're the only ones who play our videos fully intact. In Germany, they didn't like the dwarf getting run over in the end. In Sweden, they took out the footage of real monkeys screwing. Over here in the States, they took out the French guys getting hit with baguettes. They thought it was gay-bashing, which is pretty comical, considering the midget dies at the end--nobody really cared about that. Y'know, the Germans are pretty good about things, but for some reason the record company were like, "We don't know about the dwarf, it's just so sad."

M: Yeah, they're a melancholy people. So where'd you find the dwarf?

JP: It was a French production team.

I said I wanted a dwarf, so they pulled out a file that said "Les petits hommes," and it was full of about 20 French midgets. It was in mid-July, and most of them were "making party" somewhere else, but that one, Duarte, was around. It's funny, because a lot of the people from the crew, especially Duarte, come out to the shows in Paris now. He was at the last one, dancing on the table backstage, this little "where-did-he-come-from/where-did-he-go" dance.

Mr. Happy Ball goes to Europe

M: Um, Eiffel 65. You hooked up with them, for the "Bad Touch" remix.

JP: Yeah, I like all that Eurotrash--Vengaboys! I love that!

M: They got some new guy...

JP: Yeah, Robin had a nervous breakdown. But yeah, I love them. The best part is Roy, the cowboy. You know how they have road cases for guitars and amps? He's got one for his cowboy hat. Brings it on the plane with him. About a month ago I flew into Amsterdam with them, on this tiny private plane. I told them I was going to draw Mr. Happy Ball. They asked, "Mr. Happy Ball?" So I pulled out my testicle and drew a face on it. Then I go, "I'm old!" I squeeze it and go, "I'm young! I'm old! I'm young!" I've been down with them for about a year and a half, and they haven't spoken to me since.

M: Speaking of remixes, that track of yours, "That Cough Came With a Prize," (20 seconds of Jimmy hackin' up a lunger) have you thought about remixing that one?

JP: You know what's funny? I get publishing for that. When people play that on the air, I get cheques for 35 cents.

M: Are you a pro-smoking advocate?

JP: Cigarettes? Yesss! I smoke about two to three packs a day.

M: Does it make your life better?

JP: By far! I always have 20 friends with me when I'm lonely at a club. It makes me look busy. I'm smoking right now!

M: So am I! Cheers!

JP: Aw-riiight! In America, I'm a Marlboro man...

M: That's what I was smoking in Berlin. All the others that you get out of those Tobaccoland machines looked kinda creepy.

JP: Know what? Prince of Denmark. Best cigarettes ever. There's also, in Russia, these things called T-14s. They have a picture of a Soviet fighter jet on the pack, flying through a blue sky. They smelled like doody.

Mother's pride

M: Here's a very personal question. Have you sorted out things with your mom over that "Mama's Boy" track [in which Mr. Pop solicits his mother for words that rhyme with vagina]?

JP: I told her about it the day the record went into manufacturing, so that I knew, before she flipped out, that there'd be a million copies printed up. So my father told her to calm down, and now that she's getting all this acclaim, she was into it--until yesterday. I did a radio interview in Boston. We called her up and she got really mad at me because I said she was helping me write this song, "I Raped Jesus With a Screwdriver." She was very, very upset. I just spoke to her--(affects wimpy mom voice) "I don't want to talk to you. That was disrespectful, not just to me but to many people who are celebrating Easter." I said, "Look who set up the Seder table."

M: All in all, does she approve of what you do?

JP: When we first started, it was kinda weird. My luck just fell into place, because the day I finished college, we got a record deal. We'd had the band about two years at that point. So there I am, back at home, broke, my parents had spent $40,000 on my education and I was writing songs about poop and singing them over disco loops. Now we fly 'em out to exotic places like... uh, Cincinnati, and they're the toast of their friends and whatever. They like it now.

Jimmy Pop, human garbage magnet

M: Hey, got any good hotel bar stories? I ask because I'm doing a report on the topic for this issue.

JP: The weirdest night I ever had at a hotel bar was me, Mark from Sugar Ray, Kato Kaelin, our bassist, the singer from Gravity Kills and Rob from Matchbox 20, plus a couple of other stragglers. Our manager's girlfriend was at the bar and I told them she was just a slut. We went up to their room and we were all fingering her. That was pretty cool.

M: Does he know about this?

JP: Yeah, because we took pictures. We got one with four of us with our hands down her pants. I don't think Kato was in on it, though.

M: What's the story with him?

JP: Nice guy, reaping it for all it's worth. Still making money off his association with O.J. He kind of sums up what's wrong with L.A.--the sycophants. I like it, because I think of good lyrics. All these people trying to live the life, and only five per cent are making it and truly happy. Even the wash-ups, like Corey Feldman, for instance. He does some fucked-up things.

M: That's the question--what is he doing?

JP: Nothing. He put out a record that he said would be bigger than Pink Floyd.

M: Did you hear this record?

JP: Yeah...

M: I detect a note of disgust in your voice.

JP: Ugh!

The Corey story

JP: My manager's best friend Darren wanted to be an actor, so he moved to L.A., and got a job as Corey Feldman's personal assistant. So one night they're up in Vancouver, shooting an episode of Tales From the Crypt. Corey's like (affects Feldmanesque ratboy voice) "Hey, we should go to L.A. tonight and record a song!" So Darren calls up, books these studio musicians, we're talking about 10 grand worth. They get there, and he asks Corey if he's got songs planned out. He goes, "Nah, I just have 'em jam and I pick out the parts I like." After they leave, Darren says, "Okay, so now you go in and sing your lyrics." Feldman goes, "No, no, I just make it up on the spot!" So Corey goes in, he's bobbing his head to the music, and says, "This isn't gonna work. I need candles!" This is like two in the morning, and Darren has to go to the grocery and get them. They set 'em up, Corey starts bobbing his head, and he goes, "God... show us the light... make it all right... we love you, God!" At this point Darren is just embarrassed to be working for him.

M: He wasn't embarrassed before, but now it's creeping up on him.

JP: He's ready to hand in his resignation, and Corey comes in and says, "Okay, Darren, you gotta sing backups." He says, "But I don't know how to sing," and Corey says, "No, I know you have a beautiful voice." Fast forward two years, I get this record and I hear my friend Darren going (in classic rock falsetto) "God! Show us the light!"

M: Holy shit. Why do these things have to happen?

JP: I don't know. It's a fucked-up world out there. :