Everyone Loves You When You're Dead. Neil Strauss. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Neil Strauss
Издательство: Ingram
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Музыка, балет
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780857861214
Скачать книгу
room, wearing a puffy silver jacket and matching boots, discussing the reasons she preferred living in the United Kingdom to America. “English people, they’re not God-crazy like Americans are,” she said. “If I became a born-again Christian, people in England wouldn’t be comfortable with it, but people in America would.” Suddenly, the members of Green Day, who’d also been flown in for the show, filed into the room and her demeanor changed.

      Madonna has an unusual way of relating to strangers. She will ask questions—lots of questions. She will pay attention closely and ask good follow-up questions, yet you will get the uncomfortable feeling that she isn’t so much listening as she is allowing you to speak. And so long as you are interesting or able to offer something she wants to learn, she will keep allowing you to talk. But as soon as she’s gotten what she wants or her status as queen is threatened, she will turn ice cold.

      “Do you have any kids?” she asked, peppering Green Day with questions.

      “Have you ever seen Napoleon Dynamite?”

      “What do you do for fun?”

      “Do you like dancing?”

      To this last question, Green Day singer and guitarist Billie Joe Armstrong replied that the only dance he knew was the “drunken sailor dance.”

      “What’s that?” Madonna asked.

      He stood up and demonstrated by slouching forward, letting his arms dangle, and swaying drunkenly from side to side. When a string of drool began dribbling out of his mouth, Madonna let him know that she got the point.

      It was all fun and games until Madonna decided that it was time to fly back to London and one of the show’s producers told her, “Green Day are going to have to leave before you.” Instantly, her mood changed.

      “Why?” she asked coldly. “We were supposed to leave first.”

      “Their cars are here, and yours are waiting elsewhere because you stayed backstage longer than you said you would,” the producer explained.

      “Well, I’ll just fly back with them,” she said, flustered.

      “But they’re taking a car to Frankfurt.”

      “Oh,” Madonna replied, suddenly relieved, her status as queen restored. “We’re in a helicopter.”

      Here’s Madonna on life before she was queen . . .

      MADONNA: When I first came to New York, I was a dancer for years, but I didn’t know about nightlife. I had no friends. I didn’t have a social scene or anything, and it was very lonely. It wasn’t until I discovered clubs that things changed.

       How did you first get introduced to the scene?

      MADONNA: I just went by myself. I thought you had to get asked out to go to a club and that you couldn’t dance unless someone asked you to dance with them. But I discovered in New York you could go out on your own and you could go to a club and you could dance by yourself. You didn’t have to have an invitation, and to me that was really liberating.

       So what was the first club you went to?

      MADONNA: I was kind of a geek when I moved to New York, and I loved to read. You never know when you’re going to get stuck in a room or on the subway with nothing to do—and I hate wasting time. So I always used to bring books everywhere in case it was going to be a drag or things got boring.

      So the first club I ever went to was this club called Pete’s Place. It was kind of like a restaurant-bar-disco. And all the lounge lizards were hanging out there. And everybody was so fucking cool. The guys all had forties suits on and porkpie hats. And the women were so glamorous: They all had red lipstick and black eyeliner and high heels. And I felt so dull. Because I was kind of embarrassed, I just sat in my corner and read my book.

       What book was it?

      MADONNA: It was an F. Scott Fitzgerald book, Jazz Age Stories. I was like, “Okay, I don’t fit in. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m not dressed appropriately. There’s nothing cool about me. I’m going to go read a book.” So, yeah (pauses). Did you read The Power of Now?

       No.

      MADONNA: You haven’t? How about The Four Agreements? I can only remember three of them: don’t take things personally, always do your best, and be impeccable with your word. I love that one. I remember the fourth one was a repeat of the others, and I wasn’t impressed with the fourth one.

       The book editor probably thought the three agreements didn’t sound as good for marketing.

      MADONNA: Did you read that book?

       No.

      MADONNA: So you haven’t read The Power of Now and you haven’t read The Four Agreements. You must be really busy.

      When the news ends and a golf tournament begins, Chris Rock grabs the hotel television remote. “In case you say I was watching golf,” he explains.

      As Rock switches channels, he discusses the differences between comedians and rappers. “At the end of the day,” he concludes, “comedy is some nerd shit.”

      CHRIS ROCK: I remember the last time I saw Tupac. It was after the MTV Video Music Awards. I had just done [the HBO comedy special] Bring the Pain. And at the last minute, MTV called me up to present. I wasn’t quite big enough to host yet.

      So I get up onstage, I present some award, I try a couple jokes, and then I see Suge Knight in the audience. I said, “Hey Suge, don’t kill me.”

      And the audience laughs, right? There was that kind of tension. And later on, remember, they had the after-party at Bryant Park?

       I’ll never forget that party. Tupac was walking around with this parade of thugs who were carrying Death Row signs and posters. It was really aggressive.

      ROCK: Yeah, it was a weird night. First, Eric B. comes up to me. He goes, “Yo, man, I don’t know if you should have done that joke about Suge, man.” He’s like, “The spot is hot right now.”

      It was Eric B., man—the original thug life. Eric B. is from around my old way. Eric B. was driving a Rolls-Royce before he ever put out a record. That’s all I’ve got to say. With rims. Nobody else was even talking about rims. My man was gangsta. And he’s telling me this.

      Then Hammer comes up and tells me the same thing. “Yo, man, don’t mess with Suge.” And Hammer is gangsta, man. Have you ever been around Hammer?

       Are you serious? Hammer?

      ROCK: Hammer ain’t no punk, man. Hammer is more gangsta than all these guys. He rolls with the hardest crew, because it’s a combination of jail guys and military guys, because Hammer was in the Navy or some shit. When those motherfuckers rolled up, you fucking listened.

      Then Tupac comes up to me. And he says, “Hey, man, that was kinda funny what you did.” He shook my hand, and he had really clammy hands. Like he soaked them in Camay or some shit.

      And he said, “I saw you on HBO, saying that ‘niggas and black people’ shit.” He had half a smirk. I got the feeling that Pac was a minute away from punching me—or trying to punch me.

       His voice had a tone of menace to it?

      ROCK: Yeah, but because I roll by myself and I don’t wear gold or nothing, it actually keeps me out of a lot of trouble. Whereas if I rolled like Eddie Murphy ’88—if I had the shades and the leather and I had ten guys and a diamond