Interviewing a fellow writer is a nerve-wracking experience – they have an insider’s knowledge of the process and an awareness of how things work that makes slip-ups all the more awkward. The fact that THE BEDROOM PHILOSOPHER (aka JUSTIN HEAZELWOOD) also wrote for this very publication, not to mention writes for Frankie, J Mag and a whole host of others, compounds the nerves further. I couldn’t help but ask Justin if he was gleefully aware of my angst.
“Do you mean do I have such an amazing knowledge of the human condition that I can virtually read your mind? Yes, I’ve done a deal with Satan and have plugged my fingers into the human ether of the Australian collective consciousness! All I can hear is everyone talking about Facebook and it depresses me, so I pull my fingers out again.”
It doesn’t take long for me to realise that being funny isn’t an active decision on Justin’s part – it’s just who he is. The jokes keep coming, and it’s easy to see how his musical comedy persona of The Bedroom Philosopher stays alive. For Justin, though, it’s important to keep things interesting.
“I’m really glad that I have more than one outlet,” he reveals. “Being Gen Y, I just want to do four things at once, and wear four different hats – ‘I’m a musician, and a comedian, and a performer, and a writer!’”
Musical comedy, then, was a logical step for this jack-of-all-trades. “I’ve been pretty confused. I was perennially confused or split in two, being a Gen Y only child. I like to think I’m a bit too musical for the comedy crowd, and a bit too wacky for the music crowd. At the moment, after some awkward transition years, I’ve gotten good at cheating the system and having the best of both worlds.”
The music he produces certainly does blend the two art forms well, providing tuneful songs that inspire a chuckle. Since his 2005 hit, I’m So Post Modern, which included lyrics such as “I’m so Post Modern I recite Shakespeare at the KFC drive thru, through a megaphone, in sign language,” Justin has since released two more albums, most recently Songs From The 86 Tram. The album documents the stories of passengers traveling on the tram, with subjects ranging from Man on a Tram to Middle Aged Mum. The first single off the album is the hugely ironic Northcote (So Hungover), which details a phone call from an indie hipster to his band members, all said in a twisted, Australian-American accent. The song pokes fun at the Melbourne hipster scene, and Justin is unremorseful.
“In comedy, all you’ve got really are bogans and old people to make fun of. I like to pick some harder targets, like the Melbourne hipster scene that likes to float above society in an untouchable bubble.”
Melbourne audiences are renowned for their single-minded indifference, which Justin finds quite amusing. “If the whole crowd turns their back to you in Melbourne, that’s a sign of respect, like a tribal thing,” he says. “You can’t make direct eye contact, they’re like bears. They’re more scared of you than you are of them.”
In comparison, Justin’s views of Canberra are very positive. “Canberra has a very special place in my heart, because during uni I cut my teeth on everything. I spent my time in the theatre society, mucking around with acting and making friends, and starting ridiculous novelty bands like the Harmonica Lewinskis.”
There are downsides to the nation’s capital, however. “I miss Toast!” Justin wails. “I think Toast was a good venue. I guess Canberra’s still having its music venue crisis of sorts.”
Regardless, the man will be here later this month with The Boat People. Granted, ANU Bar is not the greatest venue, but I can only assume that Bunbury, which has become a sudden tour-spot favourite this year, isn’t much better.
“Bunbury! They have nothing to do, so you know you can get a crowd. Coming from Burnie in Tassie, I know that sort of town, I know what’s happening there. Go into a café and ask for a vegie burger and you’ll get punched in the face.”
Aside from a fear of regional hospitality, Justin is pretty excited for the tour, and the new album. “This album feels like a good platform for me. I wanted it to be this triple threat of music and comedy and acting, all in one hit. Pretty much, me in a nutshell is sort of a frustrated musician trapped in an indie clown performer.”
It must be hard to maintain so much creativity for an entire album. Songs from the 86 Tram is packed with intricate personas and hilarious stories that would require more energy than the average song to perform. For Justin, though, the thrill of doing something original makes the effort worth it.
“I think imagination is the single quality that is lacking in a lot of creative art, and I just think ‘I want to write a song that’s a spoken word song, with a Sudanese character with, like, world music chords playing behind it’ and I’m interested in doing that because no one else has done it.”
With only a few minutes left of the interview, I finally ask the question that’d been nagging me for a while – what’s the most Post Modern thing that The Bedroom Philosopher has ever done?
“I released Northcote as a single, and then did a parody of it for Metlink Melbourne, which is the company that looks after public transport here, called Hurstbridge, So Sober. So it was like me, playing a character, parodying me, playing a character, parodying scenester culture.”
That. Is pretty post-modern indeed.
Justin performs as The Bedroom Philosopher at the ANU Bar on Wednesday August 18 with band The Awkwardstra, plus support from the fabulous The Boat People. Tix are $18.10 + bf and are available from Ticketek. Songs from the 86 Tram is out now.
