Since that loveable Jarvis Cocker-alike first burst into our offices all those years ago, his life’s story scrawled on a sheaf of papers clutched to his chest, Justin Hazelwood - or THE BEDROOM PHILOSOPHER to his Nan - has been like a son to us. A Pinocchio to our Geppetto. But he’s a real boy now, with his own sophmore long-playing record, Brown and Orange, which will be launched at ANU Bar on Thursday July 2. Come with us, sweet reader, as we waltz down memory lane, hand in hand with Heazlewood…
BMA: You've been misquoted as saying you are the king of the current generation, are you?
Justin Heazlewood: I'd like to be known as a Centrelink sex symbol or the king of pap.
BMA: Why Brown and Orange and not maroon and grey?
JH: I wanted to do for brown and orange what The White Stripes did for red and black and Jack Johnson did for beige. I briefly considered Red and Black and Blue and Green; a tribute to the four colour pen.
BMA: You are on the QEII, it is sinking, the band is playing, what song do you request? And what colour tie do you wear to the occasion?
JH: Beck's Sexxlaws. It'd be fabulous swinging about yelling about the logic of all sex laws knowing you're about to drown. However I'd wear a sparkly novelty rubber tie that blows up into a floating device.
BMA: Should people ask for your signature or autograph?
JH: Depends how big the restraining order is. I just can't keep away from Flight of the Conchords.
BMA: Are op shops a metaphor for the modern day society? If not what is?
JH: Op shopping is dead. A plague of nineties rubbish has choked out all the good stuff. In Melbourne if I want anything good I have to pay $80 at a boutique. When you're brought up on finding bargains yourself this is like visiting a trout farm then sleeping with a prostitute. In Melbourne now they have 'retro warehouse outlets' which is basically an old person's home. You can go along and see the clothes in a free range environment and make an offer directly to the wearer or just wait for them to pass.
BMA: Have you ever thought of doing a 'serious' record?
JH: Yeah for every comedy song I've ever written I've written about three serious ones. They're all sitting there and last year I started performing under a different name, Windsor Flare, just to get them out of my system. It's a tough road for me when I've spent so long taking the piss from an outsider's perspective, to then ask to be able to be part of it as well. The longing is definitely still there. Every time I hear a Josh Pyke song I think 'waaaaah, I wanna have sell out crowds wanting to hear me bang on about love'. It's just classic 'artist never being satisfied' stuff. It keeps me on my toes, and vaguely depressed. Relationship anyone?
BMA: The songs on your latest record have a comedic thread to them yet there are also a lot of themes and items of agenda floating around them - a deeper meaning so to speak. What over all message are you trying to give the listener?
JH: Brown and Orange is such a classic difficult second album. Not satisfied with my winning formula of simple acoustic ditties such as Golden Gaytime and I'm So Post Modern, I have to get half an orchestra playing on each song because deep down I'm a musician and I want people to take me seriously. Even the lyrics this time round are less in your face funny and more sort of post-ironic, poetic and emotional. I mean, life is funny and sad in pretty equal measure, so why not songs? It's just something I had to get out of my system. I needed to write a bunch of songs that I wouldn't get sick of playing - that's why the arrangements of the music have been amped up and I'm playing with a backing band now. Someone described me as Tripod meets Syd Barrett and I'm pretty proud of that description. Maybe I'll look back in five years and think 'you tried to do too much there' but it's just a stepping stone. When I was working on this I would say to people 'I'm pinning every hope and dream on this record' and I scared my girlfriend at the time by putting so much pressure on this album to 'break me' and now it's out, and it hasn't broken me, well emotionally yes, but not in an industry sense. But hey, it's fine - I've got a lot of perspective out of it, and realise that this stuff takes a long time, and I'm still figuring out what it is I do. Now if that's not an advertisement for my album launch I don't know what is. Come, see me figuring something out that's just a stepping stone towards something else. Go-go gadget confidence!
BMA: What do you predict will be the next item of dag-come-chic?
JH: Kaleidoscopes. They're gonna hit the rave scene and kids will be at the bus stop with their eyes glued to the shapes. Rollerblades too. Not dead just sleeping.
BMA: What's the best item that you own that is coloured brown and orange?
JH: Well after my birthday it's the new set of Brown and Orange beanbags that my band mates bought me. Filled with money and drugs of course. I urge everyone to try the sensation of sitting on their life savings, literally.
BMA: What do your grandparents think of the record?
JH: Nan and Pop Records naturally love the album, as they're putting it out. Head of the company, Nan, has said quote, "yes, some quite good sounds there." Basically Nan divides all music into two categories: 'songs she could do house work to' and 'the rest'. She likes a good beat, and thankfully this album has drums on it.
