All language subtitles for What.Drives.Us.2021.1080p.WEBRip.x264-RARBG_en

www.titlovi.com

Check, check,
one, two, check.

Check, one, two.

Check, check, one, two.

One, two.

Hello, one, two, yeah,
check, check, check.

Playing to an audience is like,

it's some kind of
other dimension.

You live for those
moments on stage

and you live for that
connection to other people

that are like you.

Rock and roll is the opportunity
to scream at the world,

I am here, I exist.

Music is the most powerful
thing in the universe

and if people don't
believe it, they're crazy.

From the time I get on stage,

every once in awhile,
it's magic that hits me.

* Ah, yeah, yeah *

Rock and roll, it
gives you the power,

you know, the force.

That wonderful adrenaline rush.

There's only one
reason we do that shit.

'Cause you fucking love it.

All of the biggest
bands in the world,

they had to start somewhere.

Everybody I know started
out like this, in a van.

Yeah.

You know, you're crammed

in there together for months

and it can be totally
fucking disgusting

and absolutely
beautiful all at once.

And what happens in the
van is the foundation

of who we become.

When are we gonna eat again?
We're gonna eat

some clown meat tonight.
Clown meat.

And it creates
this unique perspective

that we all share.

So yeah, this is the van.

It's cool.

It's not very comfortable,

but you make it work.

Personally, I don't
think that I'd still be here

if it weren't for
those early experiences

touring in the van,
touring with my friends.

If it weren't for that old
van, I don't where I'd be.

Remember the red van that we had

that we sold to Brain Brown?
Yeah.

Mm-hmm, that was your first van.

That was my first van.
Where's it now?

Guess what?

I got it back.

I gotta be honest.

This van

has stood the test of time.

It was brand spanking
new when we got it.

And every time I take
a right I feel like

I'm gonna fall out the door.

It didn't used to be
like that.

Okay, so I'm making a
movie about van touring.

Yeah.

And its importance
in spreading music around

either the country or the world,

right?
The world. Yeah.

It almost pollinates.

It's like cross-pollination.

Everyone we've talked to
basically has the same story.

The van stories.

People are like,

especially like
these big musicians,

they're kind of proud
that they toured-

Absolutely, yeah.

I just love that I
could talk to Ringo about it,

talk to you about it.

talk to the drummer
of Slayer about it.

Yes.
Talk to Ian

Mackaye about it.

And it seems like everybody
has the same passion

and the same drive
and whatever it takes.

Okay.

Can I just say one thing?
Yeah.

I realized I was thinking

while I was driving
over here going like

what am I walking into?

Oh, it's about van touring.

And so I was just
revisiting all that.

I realized I'd actually
never toured in van.

Okay.
So can I go now?

Yes. And cut.

well, no, because it's
funny when we started this

I thought, well, there'll
be a lot of great stories

and people talking about the
logistics of touring in a van

and anecdotes about turning
an a van and shit like that

but then it sort of evolved
into something bigger

that's more about people.

Why the fuck people
leave everything behind

and just sort of quit life
and start playing music

and wandering around
with their friends.

So, but tell me your name
and where you're from.

My name is

I'm Lars and I'm from Denmark.

So say our names right now?

I'm Slash from LA.

Duff Mckagan, I'm from
Seattle, Washington.

My name's Annie Clark and
I'm from Dallas, Texas.

My name is Ben Harper and I'm
from Claremont, California.

My name is Jennifer
Precious Finch

and I am from Los
Angeles, California.

I am The Edge and I play
guitar for a band called U2

and I hail from a small village

north of Dublin city in
Ireland called Malahide.

My name is Flea, I'm from
Melbourne, Australia.

Were you
born in Melbourne?

I was. 1962.

D.H. Peligro from the
band Dead Kennedy's

and I'm born in St.
Louis, Missouri.

My name is Exene Cervenka.

I'm from Illinois.

I'm Brian Johnson
as you well know.

And I'm from Dunston,
which is just outside

of Newcastle in the
northeast of England.

My name is Kira.

I'm from New Haven,
Connecticut originally.

My name is Tony Kanal.

Where am I from?

I was born in London, England.

Were you really?
Yeah.

Fuck, I didn't know that.
Yeah.

My name's Steven Tyler.

I'm from Maui,

LA,

Laurel Canyon,

Boston, New Hampshire,

and every now and then
the way out is here.

I'm Isaiah, I play the bass.

My name's Dee and I
sing and play guitar.

I'm Solomon and I play drums.

And what's the
name of your band?

Radkey.
And where you from?

We're from St. Joseph, Missouri.

Really?
Yeah.

Yeah.
Yeah.

What's that like?

It's not that awesome.

* Kids these days *

* They want it all *

* They just trip *

* Trip and fall *

We were home schooled,

so there wasn't a lot to do

besides listen to our
dad's record collection

and kind of hang out.

And we just got kind of bored
and were like all right,

we can just kind of hang
out and play music together

and We had plenty
of time to do that.

And then pretty much
get out of St. Joe.

Like the rock was able to
get us out of our city,

which was great, you know.

* If the world starts
waking these kids up *

* From their games and
their dark black makeup *

So when you're starting
out as a young band,

in what I imagine
is a small town?

It's actually bigger,
it's kind of big.

It's just kind of
lame, man. It's weird.

There's just no
music scene, really.

Like we had to play out of town

because people didn't
want to book us

because they would say that
we don't book rap groups,

but we had a CD, so they
never listened to the CD.

So yeah, we just
played outside it,

we played Kansas City,
Kansas and all that stuff

until at some point, someone
booked us in St. Joe.

* I just can't shake it *

* I'm gonna take them away *

So is your
dad sort of like

the tour manager/roadie/driver?

Yes. Yes.

And yeah, Dad hooked us
up with all the music

we listened to, takes us
out on the road, you know,

takes care of us to this day.

It's really cool

like there's not much of a
change from being at home

so we can stay on the road
for a really long time.

It's just crazy I've been
doing this is for nine years.

Yep.
And we're still doing it.

They told me that your
kids are gonna start a band

and you can quit your
shitty Walmart job

and be on the road touring
with your favorite band

for the rest of your life.

Be an amazing opportunity.

It's just craziness.

What's great
about Radkey's story is

that it's not that different
from everyone I know.

My parents decided
move to Dublin

when I was one to this
little town called Malahide

and that's where I grew up
with my brother and my sister.

The one downside of
living in the burbs

outside of Dublin city was
often not a lot going on.

So we would have to find
other ways to amuse ourselves

and that's when we
got into explosives.

And that was a kind
of interesting phase.

We had a couple of summers

having great fun
blowing things up.

You're gonna lose
your global entry.

This is probably true.

I don't know if
we'll use that part.

Has U2 ever used pyro?

I feel like you've
never fucking used-

No, we got over that
phase, you know, age 15.

But you know, it's
like, you know,

you're in this nice little
town, but not a lot happening

so things went horribly wrong

when I discovered rock and roll.

I was trying to
remember what it was

that got me interested
in rock and roll

and I think it was watching
"A Hard Day's Night."

* It's been a hard day's night *

* And I've been
working like a dog *

I just was like wow.

You get to do that?

That's amazing. I
want to do that.

* But when I get home to you *

* I'll find the
things that you do *

* Will make me feel alright *

* You know I feel all right *

* You know I feel alright *

It was just that time
with the Beatles,

the storms, everything
was starting to happen.

Nobody knew quite
what was happening

but it was like grunge.

What the fuck's happened?

What was that?

At 15 I had to leave school

and start an apprenticeship
in a factory.

There was 60 kids in
this apprentice group

and everybody was
starting bands.

"Brian, do you want
to start a band?"

And I said, "Yeah, I
wanna be a drummer."

I didn't like singing,
I want to be a drummer,

and then I went to see
how much kit of drums was

and that was the
end of that dream.

It was just ridiculous,

but you never felt poor.

You never felt poor because
everybody else was the same.

In fact, the only way you
could get out of there

was if you were a good
football player or music.

The first time I heard something
that just me,

just jumped out at me,

thought, well, off the floor
I was about 12 or something,

the BBC television, there
was only one channel.

Mix through, queue on two.

Today we have a surprise for you

because they all
talked like that

with this awfully
posh English accent.

And she said, "We have a
young man from America,

a film of this young man and
it he's called Little Richard."

And I was going Little Richard?

And anyway, it just come
on and there was this

peacock of a guy, you know?

Fucking hair, the suit
and he just went...

* A whop bam boo bop
bopa-a-lu a lam-boop-ba *

* Tutti frutti, oh Rudy *

And I just went,
"What the fuck?"

It just turned me on me tits.

I just couldn't believe
anybody could sing like that.

I just, I wanna sing
like that, you know?

* Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boo *

The music we had
was the car radio.

And there was like Ray Charles
and you know, Johnny Cash

and the Supremes and the
Beatles eventually and all that.

There was no connection
between that and real life.

There was no idea
like, you know what?

I think I'll be
in a band someday.

Like I want to be just
like Jimi Hendrix,

maybe I learn to play guitar.

That didn't happen in a
rural area of Illinois.

You didn't feel it.

I mean, I think it's a
lot different now. Right?

The last thing I
ever thought of,

probably nun,

teacher,

mother,

nurse, maybe if I didn't
tell anybody, stewardess.

In the projects in Morrison
Lane where we lived,

my aunts would come
over and they would just

have a couple of drinks
and started listening

to like R&B.

R&B, all the Detroit
sound, all the,

Gladys Knight & the Pips,

The Temptations, all that
stuff that came out of Motown.

They would all sit
around and groove to it.

And so as little kids we
would just kind of peer in

and like, what are they doing?

Well, they sure seem
to be having fun.

Russell, this father
I grew up with,

he did buy a Danelectro guitar.

The one that came in
the case with the amp.

He couldn't play it, but he
would just let us play it.

And I would just get on
it and go, woo, woo, woo

and just try to make
a fucking sound.

And I was like
wow, this is cool.

It makes a sound.
It makes a sound.

I'm just making noise
but I was fascinated.

I was in the school
band, you know.

Learn my paradiddles and
my single stroke roles,

you know, just the basics,
but I got tired of it.

And I felt that listening
to Zeppelin, you know,

listening to the
Stones, you know,

I learned more about
rhythm and song structure

and melody than
somebody sitting there

teaching me his own way.

I wanted to have
a band by the time

I got my first drum kit.

That had to have been
like eighth grade.

I got a drum kit when
I was maybe 11 or 12.

And I would sit, I had
it modeled master after

Ian Paice and John Coghlan,
the guy from Status Quo.

My friends would come over.

We'd take some tennis
rackets, they would do guitar.

And then we would, we had
these, it was like an old house.

It had like old school radiators

and we would turn
the radiators up

and then we would,
don't tell anybody this.

We'd take our shirts off

and then we would like sweat
and we would be on stage

and we would be like in a
rock band, it was so cool.

All right, we have to
cut it all the way back

because my neighbors
were core punk rockers.

They had the garage band

in the 80s that drove
the entire neighborhood

property values down.

Pierced cheeks, mohawks
to the moon, right?

And they actually had a super
influential punk rock band

at the time called

Christian Death.

Those were your neighbors?
Yeah.

Christian Death
were my neighbors.

So they would hear me playing

like Casey Kasem
pop music next door.

So I'd be blasting that
right out the window

where they'd be
trying to rehearse.

So one time they finally just
came in and mobbed me, right?

So they came in, pulled
the wires on my receiver

and just said, "Here.

You need to start here, man.

Here is a Clash record.

Here is Paul Weller in The Jam.

A handful of records, here.

This is what, let's
start listening to this."

I never had an older
brother or sister

so my musical experiences
where, you know,

I would gravitate to,
like Prince is my favorite

and still to this
day is my favorite.

And when I got in No Doubt,

Eric Stefani, who
started the band

and the rest of the guys,
Chris Webb and all these guys

exposed me like to the great,

it was just like this
incredible moment

of just like

Fishbone and Bad
Brains and the Peppers

and everything at that time.

And I was a sponge and it was
just like,

my whole world changed.

* Party at ground zero *

* A "B" movie starring you *

Do you feel like
you're musically inclined?

I don't know if I ever
gave that much of a thought

like I just enjoyed
it and it was fun

and I'd kind of found a
thing and I was doing it,

and I kept doing it.

The story of how U2 formed,

having learned basic guitar
playing, like real basic.

I had this idea that
maybe at some point

I would join a garage band.

A junior pupil had a drum kit
and he wants to form a band

and had put a note on the
notice board of the school

for musicians.

So I found the note,

took down the phone number,
called this young guy,

Larry Mullen was his name.

Found out there was a
meeting in his house.

At that first meeting,
were all members of U2

with like three other people.

We started all
gathering instruments

and then we got a
chance to play together.

And that's when we realized that

we had a lot of work
to do.

It was, it was just cacophony.

No one could play in time,
no one could play in tune,

it was not good.

But I don't know what.

we just decided to persevere.

Over weeks and months slowly,
something starts to gel.

Our slow increase in skill
suddenly met the Ramones.

* Well, the girls are
frisky in old 'Frisco *

* A pretty little
chick wherever you go *

* Oh *

And we, that's it,
this is the answer.

This is the music
we need to play.

Simple, heavy cord guitar.

But it's punk rock.

* Where they're out
there having fun *

* In the warm California sun *

* Where they're out
there having fun *

* In the warm California sun *

I know when I talked to
you about music before,

you grew up loving classic rock.

Good, great rock bands.

Great drummers.

You loved Zeppelin.

You loved, you know, the great
rock band, Sabbath, you know.

And for me, like when I
was a kid, I was just like,

"Rock music is for dumb people.

Rock music is for
people who like haircuts

and clothes and they
don't care about music."

You know, when I was a kid,
my life was very tumultuous.

I was a complete
fuck up in school.

I started doing drugs
when I was 11 years old.

You know, I was
scared to be home.

My stepdad was a junky
and wild and violent

and it wasn't a safe
place, you know?

And the one thing was I got
to play music in school,

and I played trumpet.

I had dreams of being
a jazz trumpet player

or playing in a great symphony
orchestra when I grew up,

and the feeling that I had
when I held that fucking thing

to my lips and blew on it

was like all the
chaos, all the fear,

all the like hung over
because it was a crazy night

and the cops came to my house

and my stepdad just
shooting at them

and threatening to kill himself,

like all this stuff
all disappeared.

And in that moment of playing,

and like when I felt like
I made a beautiful sound,

it was like, in that moment,
everything was all right.

I'll never forget.
I was like 18.

And at 18, you are allowed to
do night shift at the factory.

Night shift meant
you got double wages.

Okay?

And it was four nights a week

and it was from nine
o'clock at night

until something
the next morning.

I was walking in with
me little hopper sack on

with two other guys.

And the sun, there was
actually a sunny sky

and it was setting in

and there was a big
orange glow in the sky

and I stopped and looked
and I'm like.

And he went, "What's
wrong with you?"

And I said, "Just think
about the all of the things

people are doing
around the world,

and we're gonna walk into
that big black hole there

and spend the night
working on that shit.

And I don't want to do it."

And they just looked at me.

Mad, mad as a
and I was.

I rather be out there
than going in here,

earning double time.

In my family, music
was the movement.

Music was the revolution.

You know, music
was social justice

and social change and cultural.

There's a lot that went into it,

more than it just being music.

You know, when you
have that moment

where it kind of clarifies
who you want to be

and what you want to do
and how you want to do it.

And I heard Mississippi
John Hurt for the first time

and I asked my
grandmother, I said,

"Grandma, who were these guys?

Who were these
two guys playing?"

She's like, "No, no,
it's just one guy."

You know, one thing
with the thumb,

bass with the thumb,
melody with the fingers.

I just, I just, that was it.

I had to do that.

How old were you?
19.

* You got to walk
that lonesome valley *

* Well, you got to walk *

* It for yourself *

You know, some
musicians begin to play

because they want to, you know,

be in the band and
travel and see the world.

But with you, it seems
like you were really

kind of born into it.

I've been playing 75 years.

And I learned off the road,

the road taught me how to live.

Well, my name is
Charles Gabriel.

I'm from to the
city of New Orleans,

the great city of New Orleans.

And my grandfather was
born in New Orleans

and he was a cornet player.

And he had The National
the jazz band in 1920.

And my father born
in New Orleans too

and he was a drummer and
my father had five boys,

five of us and five girls.

And my mother and them decided
to go to Detroit in 1941.

My dad told my mother, he said,

"You can to take
them all to Detroit

but you can't take Charlie,
'cause I'm teaching Charlie."

Because he was teaching
me about seven years

before I was able
to go to Detroit

and join the rest of my family.

And that's what I wanted to do.

I wanted to become a musician.

I prayed to God that I
can become a musician

to qualify to play music
anywhere in the universe.

To me it was it was just normal.

When did you
become a musician?

That's hopefully in a
couple of years from now.

We're very close.

There may be actually a
record deal around the corner

which could make this Metallic
thing really take off.

I know some people,
just so you know.

Every Thursday there was
three hours of learning

about religion
and about history,

religious history
in the Danish school

so we would go to
the Lutheran church

down the street from the school.

And I remember
clearly the priest

going through everybody
and talking to them about

what they imagined
their future being.

And sitting there,
when it was my turn,

I said, "I don't know
what I'm gonna do,

but I know it's gonna
involve traveling

and it's not gonna be
something that's stationary."

When did you
move to America?

I was 17.

I put an ad in The
Recycler and I said,

"Drummer, looking for
other people to perform

hard rock heavy
metal band with."

And then about six months
later, I got a call

from a guy named James Hetfield.

We became friends.

When we became friends
and he sort of got bit

by the new wave of British
heavy metal bug also,

I mean, he was into Aerosmith
and Scorpions and Judas Priest

and Iron Maiden and so on,

but he didn't really know

about Hollow Ground,
about Sledgehammer.

And so when we've gone
into all that stuff

he got sort of
obsessed with it also.

And then it was
like, what can we do?

And maybe we should start
writing our own songs

and all that started happening.

Is this the only band
you've really ever been in?

Metallica's the only band
I've ever been in, yes.

What a dick.

How many years have
you been together?

Well,

if you count the earlier years,

it's over 40 years.

Yeah. It's a long time.

It's like a fucking
arranged marriage.

What the fuck.
Yeah.

How long before you actually
got in front of people

and played a song?

We were probably a year,

I would think, or certainly
the guts of a year

before we had the courage
to play in front of anyone.

And it was a small gig in
the gymnasium of the school.

Having like argued for ages

about what we were gonna play,

we ended up voting for a
song that Bono sang the best

which was a Peter Frampton
song of all things.

"Show Me the Way."

* I wonder how you're feeling *

* There's ringing in my ears *

So we played "Show Me the
Way" and Bono nailed it.

He's sang it really well

and we kind of played
in tune and in time

and the whole gymnasium
went completely bezerk.

And I think that was
kind of the light went on

pretty much at that moment.

Everyone just went wow.

No one really picks
up a guitar and says,

"I want a million
dollar record contract."

You pick up a guitar
and yeah, it'd be great

to be able to feed your pie hole

but people are responding
to the relationship

you have with
yourself, your own soul

and how it reflects to them.

And they're responding
to the connection

and commitment to the
sound you're making.

The next logical step is

you put a band together

and get in a van.

And go out and
conquer the world.

* Yeah *

* Well, we've been to London
and we've been to LA *

* Spain, New Zealand,
and the USA *

* Touring, touring,
is never boring *

* Touring, touring,
oh baby, touring *

Every band story is unique

but on some level
they're all the same.

It's about connection.

What were some of
the first gigs like?

Well, our first
gig ever actually

a band dropped off of a
Fishbone gig in Kansas.

* Oh *

You say it!

The first gig ever was
super big and awesome.

We were like, "Whoa, we gotta
book another gig like now.

We're huge. Let's do this.

And then next gig, fucking
like five people, you know?

It was like the best because
then you never gave up

because you're like, dude,

'cause it can be
that first show.

That show kind of showed
us that, you know,

we could get to there someday.

Like for real, you know.

The few shows after
that was like oh,

back to reality.

Touring is hard.
Mm-hmm.

But you just can't find anything

like pulling into a truck
stop at three in the morning.

There's no way.

Also touring is
such a necessity now

because it's the only
real exposure you can get.

Load in at two o'clock.

You know,
when you're young

and you pick up an instrument
for the first time,

you really don't
imagine that someday

you'll be the one
writing the songs

and you'll be the one traveling
the country or the world

sharing your music
with other people.

What song are you gonna
open with tonight?

Uh, I don't
know the name of it.

What's the name?
Oh, I'm sorry.

But then once
you start sharing it

with other people

and you see the
joy that it brings

and you see the love and
everyone singing along

and dancing, and that
becomes your mission.

The connection to the
audience becomes your mission.

We're the Foo Fighters.

This is the first
show of our tour.

And we're gonna do a song
that we wrote three ago.

To kick off our first
part of the tour.

It's called "My Hero."

It's one of the reasons why
I still have the first van

that the Foo Fighters toured in.

I'm thankful that I
had those experiences

just trying to get
the gear up on stage,

be the best band
anyone's ever seen,

get it back in the van and
make it to the next city.

* There goes my hero *

* Watch him as he goes *

Because there's no guarantee

that it will ever pay off.

The reward has to
be the experience.

Without there being
any career aspiration,

why on earth would you do it?

It's a drive to see other places

and have different experiences.

I mean, I think that was
part of American culture.

That was one of the
really great things

that was handed down
to us was this idea

that you could go hitchhike,
you could go on a bus,

you could go do all this stuff

and see other parts of America

which were different
than where you grew up.

So I'm in a band.

What would you say I would
have to do to make it?

How many thousands of
times have you heard that?

What's the answer?

Well, you gotta, which will
be very hard to do nowadays,

but you got to play clubs
until you can't anymore.

Because you played clubs,

not until you didn't want to,

you had to until you got good.

I will still to this day
talk to the band and go,

"You guys, we have to
have a meeting together.

Stop bullshit phone and lawyers,

we gotta just get together."

Because that's what this was.

We would talk about
the show afterwards,

you ride down the road and
suddenly it's fucking snowing.

This is what we had.

Look at those.

Those are the windshield wipers.

The fuck.

You have to pound the payment.

You have to put in the miles.

There's no way to recreate

or even initially create
that type of momentum

without getting behind
the wheel of a vehicle.

What used to be our Thomas Guide

is now just a push
of a button, right?

But you still have
to follow directions,

follow instructions to
get to where you're going.

I mean, nobody would
ever want to get in a van

with their families and
drive for 20 minutes, right?

But here you are and here we are

getting in a Ford Econoline van

and setting sail

with complete strangers.

For that moment,

that is the dream.

You're pirates.

Like you're fucking
pirates and you have

decided that this is
gonna be your life

and you don't see any
other alternatives.

It's not like, well, I'll
do this for a little bit

before I start my data entry job

it really was like a clear
delineation of like okay,

you're a freak and you're
choosing a crazy thing.

And this is the straight life
over here and you swerved.

* How can anybody have you *

* How can anybody have
you and lose you *

* And not lose
their minds, too *

By week four or week five,
or sometimes even day five,

you just get this sort
of tour crazies where

you are part zombie
from the routine,

like a cooped up little kid

because you've been
sitting for eight hours

or whatever in the
van so you just

want to freak out.

And it helps.

It helps to have people
you can freak out with.

I think a lot of the attraction

to doing this was the unknown.

Just not knowing. You know?

You grow up, you live your life

with certain responsibilities
and rules and routines.

This to me seemed like it
just went against all of that.

That you're free.

You know?

When the Foo Fighters
first started as a band,

anyone that interviewed us

really just wanted to
talk about our past.

The impetus
to create some stuff

was not stemming at
all from Kurt's death

but it was actually stemming

from the fact that
Nirvana broke up.

Shit, it's a surprise
when anyone commits suicide

even if they say they're
gonna do it, look at Darby.

Yeah.

Yeah.

What? What was that?

Just yeah, I'm not
interested in this part.

And did you look
at sitting at home

was a period of
mourning kind of thing

and then then Foo
Fighters is it now.

Well, of course, but yeah.

Yeah, sure.

We kind of felt like we needed
to have some experiences

of our own, you know,

go out and do stuff.

So,

the van just made perfect sense.

We went on our first tour.

It was, I mean,
it was bare bones.

It wasn't, there was no

rock royalty superstar review.

I mean, it was like,

we were hurting, you know?

Look at Pat's feet!
Disgusting.

Oh!

What?

Getting the big dick?

That's the room, that's the
room penis, right there.

No way.
That was the room penis.

Hi.

Anything-
Let's get the boys

changing now.

Yeah, let's get the boys-

Hi, I've got to put
on some dry clothes.

Okay, Dave, we'll let
you have some privacy. Okay.

Oh, it's like
kitchen is open.

Peanut butter and
jelly sandwich.

Can I have a bite?

Rock over London,
rock on Chicago.

Choosy mothers choose Jif.

I like how the stools
are really small.

I like that, that's great.

Shooting the breeze
kind of this?

Yeah.
Well, dude.

You're social.

What?

Driving around the Midwest and-

Actually Tanya Tucker's
tour bus From the 80s.

We hustled into a van.

I've never been in a
band where somebody

loaded your gear for you
and set your shit up.

But they had spray
painted their van silver,

remember that?

His car broke, he
had to borrow mine.

But could you guys imagine

if we would have started,

done the first tour in a bus

how different it
would have been?

I think it goes back to
everything that you said

that we had just become a
band and had we done that,

we probably never would have
made it through the first year.

To this day, we'll get
off the rental jet,

the van with wings
and we all still cram

in the same fucking
van so it's...

Pat.

Did you ever tour in a van
before the Foo Fighters?

No.

My first band tour
with you guys.

So when you joined Nirvana,

that was first time
you'd ever gone on tour?

That was my first tour ever.

Red delicious, you
got your ears on?

That's a big 10-4, big buddy.

Germs did a couple
our of town shows,

which was like packing our shit

in Chris Ashford's
two-door Buick Skylark,

you know, drums and the amp.

All we had was a
bass amp, a drum set,

and a bass with no case.

And all of us people
crammed in there

and we'd drive to San Francisco
or San Diego or whatever.

You didn't bring a guitar?

I didn't have a guitar,
but then eventually...

Or an amp, so it made it easier

to cram it all into
a Buick Skylark.

* Give me, give me this *

* Give me, give me that *

* Give me it, now *

* Give me it *

None of us in the bands

had even a thought of going
and doing it somewhere.

And it wasn't till I
remember Black Flag

started doing it more,
like you can do that?

Like you can go around the
country and play gigs everywhere?

I just figured

because every one of
my bands sucked so bad,

why would I want to
take that anywhere else

and make anyone else
have to listen to that?

I had no idea that-

That anyone would even
want to see it, right?

Like why would we
go to another state?

They don't know us,
they don't wanna see us.

Yeah, and I just
didn't even know

that the network existed.

Do you wanna hear my take on

the American punk
touring network

and the vans that followed it?

Okay.

Band number one, D.O.A.

1979, D.O.A. from
Vancouver, Canada,

they wanted to go play.

Okay, so D.O.A. was
the first band to tour.

First band that had a
band that had a band.

They were connected

to the Youth
International Party.

They then knew that
so they booked a tour

for D.O.A. that took them
around the country in 1979

including here in
Washington at Madam's Organ.

They did the circuit.

They go through LA,
they meet Black Flag.

And then they're like, "You
got to come to Vancouver."

So Black Flag
makes their way up.

They play San Francisco, maybe
Portland, Seattle, Vancouver.

And they meet up
with the D.O.A. guys.

And Bukowski sits down
with him and says,

"Can I get your numbers?"

It was a sheet.

And it had all the
clubs you could play.

had the guy's number
who ran the club.

It had like another number

like a punk rock house
you could crash at.

So then he starts booking a tour

and he's exhaustively,

they start booking and booking.

And they're gonna do a trip
from LA to San Francisco.

They're gonna stop
in San Luis Obispo.

They're gonna just
fill in the blanks.

They were going to for coverage.

And Black Flag, their
first trip across,

they just played so
many places nobody went.

They did all the gig,
the dates they could find

that were D.O.A., but then
they started filling them in.

Then they would get back to LA

and they'd just turn around

and go out and do their B tour.

They just go round and round,

but the whole time
they were developing

like this network.

D.O.A. came in
with the hatchets.

And Black Flag came in
with like the steamer.

I don't wanna sound like I'm
blowing smoke up their ass,

but them guys, man.

I mean, a lot of what
I'm doing, I owe them.

They had a different idea.

The Flag guys were very
much a do it kind of thing.

You would not believe
what college radio

was like in them days.

College radio was so terrible,

but then they had a big switch

and all of a sudden every
DJ had their own show

and no playlist.

But it wasn't like
that beginning, man.

Punk wasn't really a
college thing for awhile.

Touring the college circuit,

a lot of that was through
the college radio circuit

who were playing punk rock

and so those where the
connections could be made

so those were the towns,

so they were developing
this network.

The gig seemed like that was
the most control you had,

that situation.

All the 23 hours it took
to get to there, wherever,

for that one hour, the gig.

So everything else is a
flyer, putting out records,

having a band, you
know, put up a name.

all this stuff is to
get people to the gig.

Black Flag!

To be a punk rocker was
like doing everything

you could to express yourself.

* Look at me, I look at you *

* What the fuck you gonna do *

When I first joined
Scream, I think I was 17

or had just turned 18 years old.

They were an established
band in Washington, DC,

in Virginia, in America.

They were kind of one
of those early American

punk rock bands that traveled.

I had looked at all these
pictures on album sleeves

of punk rock bands

with their sleeping bags
and all their equipment

in a van and unloading
into a club out of the van.

And that to me

just seemed like a dream.

Vans became sort of the
central mode for all the bands.

You lived in your van.

I wanted to be with people

that wanted to
make music, record

and get in the van and
go experience the world.

The physicality of
being in places,

not just hearing about it.

Your own first
person take on it.

There's nothing like it.

I think it's great for
the band in the van

because you get to know
each other, you know,

you're locked in.

You know, I think that was
part of us coming together

as the song says.

You look at this van

and it's like having a
newborn baby or something,

like the amount of like
optimism, the possibilities,

the infinite things that
we can get in this thing

and we can go anywhere.

We can load all our
shit in here, our drums,

our amps, all our shit and go.

I have been able to live a life

where you could just play
music with your friends

in front of people and
travel around and do it.

It was like here's the
golden ticket to Oz.

Here's the fucking
golden brick pathway.

Your life is set.

Your winning.

Well, I mean, at
this point in your life,

like were you just going out
to just go fucking have fun?

Were you aspiring to be
like a famous musician?

Were you just
throwing everything...

I was just being a punk.

It never occurred to me
to be famous or to be rich

or to think about it as a job.

It's sort of like this
would, we gotta go,

I just wanted to
meet the people.

I wanted to go, I wanted
to see what was out there.

You have to know like,
Rollins and I, in 1978

we took a Greyhound Bus to
California just go skateboarding.

I was 16, he was 17.

So we were just like,
go, just go, go, go, go.

That was the mission, just go.

Jeff Nelson, drummer
of Minor Threat

and also very eccentric,
brilliant like builder.

He like got in the van,
came up with a design,

a deck design.

That was also a huge
part of all vans

is you've got to make
a really proper design.

You know, every
band had that specific way

that they would pack
the back of the van.

You had one way to get the
fucking shit, it's like Tetris.

Yeah, yeah.
One way

to get the shit in there.

Like everything goes in-

Yeah, I was not that
guy who knew that.

Bands still do that?

Are they still doing that?
Yes.

So how long have
you had this one?

This is a rental.
Yeah.

This a rental?

You gonna return it like this?

Yep.
Yep.

It's a necessity based thing

to manage the space of the van

'cause a big empty
hole isn't necessarily

the most efficient way to go.

Somehow you break up the space.

Some people will go horizontally

and have the equipment
in the back area.

It's a packed van.

With big fear all
the way at the top.

You can't see out the back.

It's not the safest.

All right, show me
how you pack this thing.

Oh, yeah

Back in the day explain
how you would pack

and load your van.

First, man,

you unload all the
gear, man, right?

And then we take something

and we have to
throw the people out

and put a mattress there

so we can have place
to sleep, you see?

And then we move all
the gear in there.

And microwave built
and little how you say?

Loft.

Okay. Let's go for a 3000
mile trip around the country.

So how many miles are
you gonna put on this

before you bring it back?

Oh man, we're
gonna put probably,

probably put 6.000
on this, this trip.

Shit.

How many tours do you think
you've been on at this point?

Oh my God. I don't know.

50, 60, 70, more.

More, more probably.
I bet more.

Yeah.
How many tours

have you done in
America at this point?

US ones?

Probably more than
Europe. Right?

And I know if you call a
tour more than a month,

I just did 67 so maybe 35, 37?

And this last tour?

This one was
tour, named after my pop,

it was 45 gigs, 45 days.

That's about 13.380 miles

and I drove every one of them.

I feel so grateful to
have had that experience,

to have like that have been,

like every step of the way of
the Chili Peppers, you know,

it's like we did every
little step, you know?

And first it was a van then
we moved up to the U-Hauls

then you could lay
down in the back

and you had like a little
mattress back there.

You know, you could sleep
with in Chad Smith's feet

in your fucking mouth.

You know what I mean?

But you'd get little
shut eye, you know?

And then, you know, then
we moved to the mobile home

and that was massive,
the Winnebago, you know.

And then the first shitty bus
with the crack head driver,

you know what I mean?

We were just driving
to pick up hitchhikers

and shit on a bus.

What?

When you go out there

and there's some like
weird methed out girls

in the front with the driver,

and you're like who is this?

We did the caravan of
cars, personal cars, right?

We got to experience
that part of the band.

Then we got to experience
the 15 passenger van

with a trailer.

Then we graduated
to 15 passenger van

with a cargo van.

Then we graduate to the
one bus, band and crew.

Then you graduate to two buses,

the band on one bus,
the crew on one.

And then you graduate to everyone
gets their own bus, right?

So we kind of got to
experience all of that.

And it was all
bit by bit by bit.

So you appreciate it.

You appreciate the
fuck out of it.

That wow, I'm on my own bus.

You know?

And then when you can start
taking a crap on buses,

when that change happened,

that was massive.

The Shredder.
The Shredder.

Dude, life changer.

It's a big deal.
I know.

That was a big deal.

Hey, remember this?

It's a 6140 Econoline,

the original modern day van.

And here's a new original,
the 7060 Econoline.

It's changing van history again.

Check it out.

It's the only van with
a strong, separate frame

and they moved the
engine forward 18 inches

for more freedom to move
around than in any other van.

And no matter how your
trick up your Ford,

there's lots of room
for bags and boats

and beauties.
Us?

No, these beauties.

I was taking my kids
to school one day.

My daughter Harper said,

"Dad, everybody's
looking at us."

And I said, "Yeah.

So why do you think that is?"

And she said, "Because all
new cars look the same."

I said, "Yeah, they kind of do."

She said, "They're all
gray or black or white.

There's no colorful cars anymore

and they're all kind
of the same shape."

And she was right.

But there was something
about the style

and the progression of
style that vans went through

from the 50 utility
vehicles to the 60s

to the family vans, to the
70s, super 70 van culture.

They were such cool looking
machines and you know,

there's something about

that aesthetic where when
you're driving something

that has style,
it's like, you know,

it's like wearing a suit.

You can tell a
lot about a person

by what kind of van that drive.

Like this piece of shit.

Slayer!
Slayer! Slayer! Slayer!

At what point did you guys

start to travel out of town?

We were traveling...

I would think it
was upon the release

of the first album is
when we started traveling.

One of the earliest trips

I believe we drove
our own vehicles

up to San Francisco.

We just did a couple of
shows, one at Ruthie's,

one at The Stone.

Did you guys think

that you were going
to be a huge band?

No, but I knew there
was some special.

We were attracting fans.

People were interested.

And we were slowly beginning
to have a little following,

especially the clubs
playing in Orange County.

It was cool because
people were shocked

when they saw us.

Slayer!

We were fearless.

You know, we were just
living life and enjoying it.

What it came down to was we
were like, we were Slayer.

We felt like we had this kind
of edge on everybody else,

on every other band there.

And it felt awesome.

What is it that makes someone

want to just jump in the van
with all of their friends

and disappear for
a couple months?

Yeah, I think it's
just about like fun.

Like you don't, it's also not
knowing what could happen.

Like it could either
be this amazing thing

or it's gonna be a
total train wreck,

but even with when
we've been on tour

and there's like train
wreck terrible moments

and terrible stories,
we laugh about it later.

God, the fucking days
of being like oh yeah,

somebody's out of town in
this like Philly row house,

and there's like a bed free

and you just find
yourself sleeping

in just some random gross
bed with like dirty sheets.

But it was great.

This was like, I'm
fucking living.

This is rad.

I'm in Philadelphia.

The third band in 92,

we went out and started
doing like the Midwest.

And I remember we played
in Oxford, Mississippi

and there was like
seven of us on stage

and no tickets sold to the show.

Zero, no one's gonna be there.

So Adrian met some
girls at the motel

and invited them
to show up on us.

So they came and so there
was like four of 'em.

So there's four people watching
the seven of us on stage.

There's more people on
stage than in the audience

and it was such a
small little bar

that like we would
literally take turns

going in the audience
to balance out

like how many
people were on stage

and how many people
were watching the band

or we watching ourselves.

Fucking awesome numbers.

Yeah! Yeah!
Oh, I got it!

You never got
into an accident

or anything in
your van, did you?

I've almost died.

I never got into an
accident, but there was,

we were driving from, I
think somewhere in Ohio,

through West Virginia

and it was winter time.

We hit black ice
and I'm driving,

I'm listening to,

we're listening to Voivod.

"War and Pain", never
forget, you know.

And all of a sudden.

Bam, it was hilarious, man.

I remember I hit my
head and I kind of,

it just went black
for a little bit.

And I opened my eyes, like
oh man, what's going on?

The car just starts spinning.

I'm like oh shit.

I lost control. There's
nothing I could do.

Music's off.

Everybody's sat up, you know,

truly white knuckling
the whole experience.

It was an hour.

I'm just driving along
and then suddenly

seeing a dead piglet on
the side of the road.

I'm like, "What the fuck?"

And then I can a couple,

maybe few seconds
later, another one.

I was like, "What happened?

Why are these little
dead piglets here?"

We're asleep on a mattress
in the back of the van.

We ended up driving straight

into an East German
military facility.

There was all these
truckers high on speed

and we said we needed
to get to Seattle.

And all the lads were out with
their machine guns and dogs

and looking for passports
from the driver and then-

There was this topless
girl in Detroit.

She took her leg off
and put a rose in it

and there's a picture of it.

You know what?

It's just how we live. Right?

And I realized at some
point they were sandbags

and I was tripping
my fucking brains out

because I was exhausted.

I hadn't slept.

For the whole time I kept
thinking these are dead piglets

every, who put a dead
piglet every 50 yards?

What the fuck else in
the world would drive you

to such lengths to do anything?

Got to get to the gig, man.
Yeah.

Being in a van is
basic survival.

You know?

Like someone's gonna have
to learn to build a fire.

You get to be really,
really close with people,

like close in a way that
other fucking coworkers

at the bank couldn't
possibly know.

It's not that
glamorous to talk about

but it really takes like
a kind of immaturity

and innocence to be
on the road in a van

but also a type of maturity
where you can really tolerate,

see a bigger picture, have
patience, exercise kindness

to your fellows who
might be having issues

because when you're in a group

and you're in close quarters,
anything that's going on,

the group knows,
it's a group problem.

We've had band members who've
lost loved ones early on

and were in the van.

We've had people
with drug problems

getting clean in the van.

We've had people who were clean

having drug problems in the van.

It was really like I
have to deal with today.

And that's what the van
kind of meant for me.

You become each
other's support group

in so many different ways.

In some really crucial times
in your life, you know?

We got DH here.

I'm the bow legged brother

that you'll never be another.

And I still shoot soon.

At what point did
you start getting high?

I think it started
with rock and roll.

15. I think I was 15.

I had a couple of beers
and I was like woo! Wow!

And was there
alcoholism in the family?

It's weird because I never
met my biological father

but the father I grew up
with definitely an alcoholic.

Yeah, I mean, he would
drink and get drunk at night

and come into my room and
stick a shotgun in my face

and fucking ask
me if I was a man.

And that was a
typical Friday night.

"What the fuck, you
a man?" You know?

And he was just, he was
just, he was a drunk.

He was a periodic drunk

because he stayed drunk
for like the weekend,

and then he was a social
worker throughout the week.

So you hit the road
with the Dead Kennedy's

but you hadn't really
traveled at that point?

I hadn't, no, I
hadn't been anywhere.

My first gig was in Sacramento

and we went across the US

and we hit the road and fucking
people just want to kill you

for the color of your skin.

It's insane. It was crazy.

Everybody's got a
right to free speech.

And this song is about
the fucking rednecks

and the fucking jocks

who bring in their bullshit
macho attitudes to these shows,

try to wreck 'em

by starting fights,

spreading around their
bullshit racist attitudes.

And that just fueled
my alcoholism.

I'm not gonna say that
that pushed me into it,

but it was quite a nudge

because then I didn't
talk as much to people

about like what's
going on internally

or I definitely didn't talk
to anybody in the band.

Like, "Hey man, you
know, I feel scared."

You know?

I didn't know you could do that.

Nazi Redneck assholes fuck off.

* Nazi punks, Nazi punks *

* Nazi punks, fuck off *

* Nazi punks, Nazi punks *

* Nazi punks, fuck off *

Okay. So the Dead
Kennedy's are done.

Mm-hmm.

And now where
does your life go?

I moved to Los
Angeles, California

and we got nothing going on.

So I'm drinking the morning,
drinking in the afternoon.

Then I joined the Chili Peppers.

And then that was like
trying to hide this facade,

this guy where I'm trying
to hide my addiction.

* In 1819, we took
a little trip *

* We went on down to
the mighty Mississippi *

* We got a little drunk
and we got a little wine *

* Next thing you know,
I was Chili Pepper *

* Chilling and cooling so fine *

* Fine *

* Yeah *

So I just really leaned into it

and started fucking
shooting dope heavy.

Like then it was just
like nothing mattered.

And it started a
whirlwind of shit.

Now I'm selling shit.

Sold the van.

I had motorcycle, van,
classic guitars, muscle car.

I just sold everything.

I just didn't give
a shit anymore.

I started getting fucking
all these abscesses

and I went up in the hospital.

This is the first
one, it's about

it's on my hip, it's
about big as your,

yeah, like my fist.

You can see that and
you can see the whole,

like you can see your
whole hip socket.

The skin has started to fall
away and like getting rotted

and necrotic and just
shit was falling out.

Like I was really playing
in this band, bass, and

literally a piece of, a
chunk of meat just fell

down my leg and fell out of
my pants and on the floor.

They were like, "Dude, you
need to go to the hospital."

So, I kept bullshitting around.

I was like, "Yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah."

And I would just wake up
in these pools of blood

with my pants soaked and
and just all fucked up.

Yeah, it ended.

Shit, the dope just took over.

And I would think about
that, I would go, yeah.

Wow. That was some times,

a lot of times
and a lot of years

where I didn't have
this food to eat,

like I literally wouldn't,
I just didn't eat

because I didn't have no
money, I didn't have food,

I spent all the money on dope

or I'd be in a homeless shelter

thinking that I'm a rock star.

I used to be a rockstar.

What the fuck has happened?

What the fuck has happened now?

Now I'm just a fucking
homeless piece of shit

with the rest of
these guys, you know?

So it was, ooh, it
was a mixed bag.

How you doing?

Ugh!

I never been better
and I never had more.

It's not as much as
the struggle, because

I gave up the fight.

But to me, this is all winning.

And I do nothing but
really help people

more stay sober than not,

because it just helps me

because I see new people come in

and I know where they've been,

and I know how it feels,

and I know how it feels to
have somebody to reach out

and say, "Hey,
man, you all right?

Let's get a coffee."

Like nobody was
saying that shit.

Nobody was saying, "Hey,
let's go have coffee.

Let's go see a movie,
let's go hang out."

I discovered along with my
spirituality this whole sense

of love,

and self-love and

love for just fucking mankind.

I remember just getting sober

and everything looks so fresh.

So fresh and so new

and it's like hitting a
restart on your computer.

Do you love yourself
a little more now?

A little more.

I love me a little more.

* I love you, baby *

* But you gotta understand *

* When the Lord made me *

* He made a ramblin' man *

What those close quarters do

for the comradery of the band.

It can do one of two things.

It can fucking make you
wanna kill each other

or it makes you, you
know, tight like a family.

Well, it's both.

Kind of like a family that
wants to kill each other

is pretty much okay,
so if you're in a van

and someone's annoying you,

you have to get over it
because you can't escape it.

It's like a marriage
of multiple people,

which in my experience
means it's really hard

to keep on the
same track forever.

I mean, you go through it
together and it's hard.

You go through a lot of shit

that you don't really
think about at the time,

but in hindsight, yeah,
you survived that together.

So it definitely
is a bonding thing

that you don't even
realize that's happening.

It was incredible.

It was an ultimate dream for me.

I had all that discomfort of
like getting some weird rash

because I'd been sweating
on a the stage going crazy

and then you don't
shower for six days

and then the van and
everyone's stinks

and you're fighting
and shitting your pants

and eating the worst food
you could ever imagine.

It's heaven, it's
fucking paradise,

it's the greatest thing
you could ever do.

I just felt like we
were just like a roaming

band of gypsies.

We show up and we rock you.

* Rock you *

You know, we get
out of the world

and we play "Get Up and Jump"

and "True Men
Don't Kill Coyotes"

and we fucking we do it with
every fiber of our being

as hard as we can every night
and it means everything.

You know what was crazy?

We always drove home.

We never stayed in a
motel or in a tent.

We drove home and then we
got in the van the next day

and went to the next gig.

We were driving from London.

It's like the coldest
day ever in Britain,

coldest night in Britain,
freezing cold, snowing.

Just the worst.

And the windshield went
and it had the bench seat.

And so we laid on top of
each other, The Beatles.

And if you got to the top,
you had a slug of whiskey

and then you moved
your way down again

and the next one had a slug

and that's how we got back
home without freezing to death.

And you think, ah, you
know, that's how it is.

What was it
like to be stuck

in a fucking little van

with the same four or five
dudes for two and half months?

Well, I mean, you know,
it's like a little tribe

of nomads running around.

I think it's one of the
funnest things you can do.

Being in a gang, in a
band, in a collective,

in a commune, in a group,
whatever fucking word

you want to attach to it,

just being with other people
and sharing that experience

with other people, that
was paramount to anything.

Ill never forget there
was a guy in the band who,

I don't know if he had
food poisoning or something

but he was farting
the most like noxious,

like make you want
to puke farts.

And that's just how you live.

This is just like, I guess
this is my new reality is I,

I sit in a fart van.

And get to Baltimore and
play for the bar staff.

Like it was awesome.

Did you know
that the Beatles fart?

No.

If you fart, admit it.

in the van, because it
causes so much trouble.

You know, eating curry
and then the flatulence

which followed in the van,

the fucking pong, get the fuck.

We had to put the
windscreen wipers on,

sometimes they were that bad.

And you know when you get
fallen over laughter fit

where you're on the
floor just giggling?

They're so rare.

And they're sort of special,

a lot of people it's
never happened to,

it's never happen to them.

We got levels
here, you ready?

* Hey, don't let
it go to waste *

* But I hate the taste *

* Weight keepin' me *

When you get that full
done laughing feeling

and everybody's in,

you can't even start
a word before the,

you know, everybody's
back down again.

Fucking magic.

Oh my God, Anthony.

Oh my God.

Take the fucking picture.

Oh!

When you're in a band,

especially like you're in a van,

like you know, everyone's
pissing you off,

but you really fall in
love with everyone too.

You know?

And you show up and it's
just that feeling of like,

you know, we're gonna
fucking explode.

Like we're gonna up there
and I'm gonna go up there

and I'm gonna explode, you know?

'Cause I know this
like tense boiled,

this ball, tightly coiled
up inside of me all my life.

And it was like all of
a sudden I found a way

where, you know, 'cause I
had felt in so many ways

growing up like lesser than

and I was always small
and little and skinny

and I was scared of
girls and I was weird

and like a jazz nerd and
you know what I mean?

Like but I found this
thing and it was a place

where not only like all
this like tension inside me,

that I could release it,

but also that I was
discovering myself,

I was discovering my identity.

And I realize it not
only was like selfish,

like I'm able to
release all this stuff,

but I was looking at people

who are right there in front
of me and they were happy.

When we were doing
those van tours,

it was us against the world.

So we would hit the
stage in between

those fucking long drives.

And even if we're playing
for 10 people or 15 people

or 30 people,

you just hit the stage and
it's like this is what I do.

This is what we do together.

You're waiting
for those moments.

I always say like life is
just waiting for those moments

to get back on stage.

Everything else is kind
of passing the time.

And you get on stage now

do you still get the
same feeling you had

the first time that
you got on stage?

Yeah, absolutely.

You can't be in a rock
and roll band and say,

"Well, I've got three
gigs this weekend.

I'll take it easy tonight
and save me energy."

You can't, it's impossible.

You have to go till
your throat's dead.

You know?

And even then, make an attempt.

And the crowd love you
all the more for it

'cause you're not giving
up or wimping out.

You go on with it otherwise
it's not rock and roll anymore.

It's somebody attempting
to be rock and roll.

Growing up, like going
to see a band live

was the way you
connected with them.

Now you can connect with them
in so many different ways

and everyone's connecting
with so many different things.

It's all just like, there's
so much stuff going on.

I just think it's just,
it's changed so much.

So now there's a lot
of live streaming

and you can watch
concerts at home.

You don't have to go
to a fucking concert.

I not only accept the
technology and where it's gone,

but I actually love it.

It's a completely different
playing field now.

There's so many different
ways of trying to see

if this new sort of,

with the way the
technology's working out

to get it to hit an
audience, to make it work.

You know?

It like started with like
you listen to one thing

from your parents and
then there's YouTube,

which is like you go down

and you can see every concert
from like 1977 or whatever.

And then it branches off

and you find out-

Other bands.
Other bands yourself.

But it just makes
you want to be there.

* Fire *

* To begin whipping
dance of the dead *

* Blackened is the end *

* To begin whipping
dance of the dead *

* Fire *

* Is the outcome of hypocrisy *

* Darkest potency *

* In the exit of humanity *

* Color our world blackened *

* Blackened *

Music can change the
world in some way.

Maybe if it's on an
individual basis,

just a couple of people,

but it will actually
change somebody

and it did in my case.

Ladies and gentlemen!

A warm welcome please
from Dublin, Ireland, U2!

This connection
with the live audience-

Good evening!

Really taught us
everything we just know

about being in a band.

Without the experience
of growing up

playing small little clubs
and learning how to do it,

I don't think our
band would've made it.

I don't think it would be
anything like it is now.

You can't put it in
words what the energy,

it's a whole different thing
that you can't describe

when you're actually
watching a band that you love

in the room versus
watching in on screen.

It's just a different
experience as we know.

What happens in your ears,

what happens through your eyes,

what happens to your body

in that energy in
the room, right?

It's just, it's a completely
different experience

that I'm so grateful that I
got to see all these bands

for so many years.

All these bands
that I love so much.

You say, one, two, three. Do it!

One, two, three!

To have people, to
see people singing

songs that we
wrote in the studio

and because we were in a good
mood and having a good time,

that's so great.

I think that's the
for me.

* Yeah *

Who've I've become
by not growing up

is much bigger than anyone's
ever become growing up.

Do you ever think that sometimes

when you're playing on stage,

I can't believe I'm getting
paid for this right now?

Every-
Like this is-

Everyday.

Okay.

Guess what?

This is exactly what I fucking
hoped would happen right now.

Dan, light 'em up,
I got to see 'em.

Hey, Glastonbury!

Hey!

Thank you so much, you guys,

it's a been a beautiful evening.

I remember the great
shows that I've been to.

They changed my life, you know?

The Clash changed my life.

* Oh *

* Darling, you got
to let me know *

* Should I stay or should I go *

You see a lot of acts
that are just taking

what they did in the studio

and leading that to a stage

and expecting that that's
going to work and it doesn't.

So there's something about the
live concerts that, you know,

the honesty of it
that you can't hide.

That is the reason I think
that people go to shows.

* Hello, hello *

* Hola *

* I'm at a place
called Vertigo *

They don't go to shows

to hear the music they
hear on the radio.

They want to see
something different

and something compelling,
something that is going to connect

with them in a deep way.

And I think the
best acts do that,

but they're the ones that
have paid their dues.

I wanna hear you sing!

* There goes my hero *

* Watch him as he goes *

That's what we are.

We share are love through music.

* There goes my hero *

* He's ordinary *

It's satisfying.

Something deep in my
soul that helps me

live.
* There goes my hero *

* Watch him as he goes *

It's 2019 and the biggest
rock bands in the world,

all the same biggest
rock bands in the world

that were, you know,
1999 or 1989, you know,

Guns and Roses and AC/DC

and Iron Maiden and Aerosmith
and you guys and us and so on.

I mean, that's the
fucking crazy thing.

And so I think there's a whole
bunch of conversations about

why has that not changed?

It's funny because Thom Yorke

brought that point
up to me as well.

What is that?

Well, he just said it was like,

'cause there's so few of us left

that can go play big places
all over the world, right?

We can go fill up arenas,
stadiums, all over the fucking.

At a certain point,
like in the 90s

or late 90s or something, it's
like they put up a big fence

or they drew a line
or made a big wall

and all of us that were
on one side of the wall

got to do it for the
rest of our lives,

and no one else can come in.

And has anyone else come
in, in 20 years? Rock band?

Is there one?

I mean, I might be missing
it, but, no, right?

Why do you do this to yourself?

Why do you punish
yourself that much?

Punish myself?
Yeah.

You're talking about punishment.

Yeah.

I don't see the punishment.

Well, the enormous
volume of music,

the enormous amount of
energy that you take

and that you give.

That's not punishment.
That's pleasure.

Is it pleasure?
Yeah.

We're a band based on
the pleasure principle.

And when I go out there

and when I go out there
with my best friends

and we make beautiful
music that is sacred to us,

that's nothing but
ultimate glorious euphoria.

There is no pain
when you're on stage,

the pain comes during life

and that's a place to
fucking exorcize the pain

out of your body.

You have to want it.

You really have to want it

and you've just got to go
through the tough times

because it will be tough.

You're not gonna get an
easy ride. That's for sure.

It's hard and it's arduous
and it's fun as fuck.

When you're at a certain age

and you find something
beautiful that you love,

go for it with
everything you've got,

because it will serve
you your entire life.

Do you ever feel like
giving up and going home?

Never.

Never, never give up.

Do you ever want to quit?

No.

That's crazy. No.

Do you ever
feel like giving up?

No.

The guys I was in the
van with 20 years ago

are still my band.

And I don't know
if they would be

if we didn't have that
experience together.

There's no greater gift

than to have your little crew

and you're in your
boat, working the town.

I really love it.
I really love it.

Our records have never
gone out of print.

We're still this real
band, still touring.

Still playing to young
people or old people

and all kinds of people.

It's amazing. It's like a
wow thing every night to me.

And we still tour in a van.

We have two vans now.

What is it that keeps you going?

Jazz musicians would just
fucking die on stage.

There doesn't have to
be an end to touring.

There doesn't have to
be an end to playing.

At the end of the day,

playing music, and
fucking writing songs

is what I love to do.

It's my favorite thing to do.

Like for me, the
answer is, it's simple,

and it's love and
that's the only answer.

If you had advice for
the next generation of kids,

because I know that
you want to pass it on.

Yes.

What would you
tell the next generation?

Be sincere about what
you're listening to.

And love what
you're trying to do.

that's what I would tell 'em.

What you tell 'em?
I'd like to know.

If we come back,
will you come back?

'Cause if you come
back, we'll come back.

That's the way it works.

cool.

I like that.

That means nobody
has to say goodbye

'cause we'll see each
other again sometime.

So we never say goodbye.

We just say this.

You just play till you die.

What else you gonna do?

Here we go! Ah!

It's really important
to find your thing.

It might take awhile
but it'll happen.

* Hello *

* I've waited here for you *

* Everlong *

* Tonight *

* I throw myself into *

* And out of the red *

* Out of her head *

Here we go!

I would just say get in a
band and do it, you know?

It's the only way
to make it happen.

* Come down and
waste away with me *

* Down with me *

* Slow, how you
wanted it to be *

* I'm over my head *

* Out of her head *

All right, here we go!

I think I would say do shows.

Get out in front
of a live audience.

It's so informative

and also making that
connection with an audience is,

I think that's what
makes a great band.

* If anything could ever
be this good again *

* The only thing I'll
ever ask of you *

* You've got to promise not
to stop when I say when *

* She sang *

You have to be
completely committed

and willing to fucking go
through hell and high water

to put it lightly.

Yeah, if you can't
breathe without doing it

then you're in the right place.

Really think about it

and say am I allowing
to give up everything?

How am I gear taken?

Have my guitar taken?

Lose it all for this dream.

Be yourself and
brace who you are,

and the greatest tragedy
that could ever be

is not singing your
song that's inside you.

* And she sang *

Your connecting to the music,

you're connecting to
your fellow band members

and you're connecting
to the audience.

That to me, is what
keeps me alive.

Are you ready!?

Let's fucking go.

Ah!

* If everything could ever
feel this real forever *

* If anything could ever
be this good again *

* The only thing I'll
ever ask of you *

* You've got to promise not
to stop when I say when *

You gotta get in the van

if you want to make
it in this business.

Preuzeto sa www.titlovi.com