Jesse R. Berlin

Jesse R. Berlin is at the Russian baths and has just dropped acid. Spa day meets psychedelic trip could describe Berlin’s whole m.o. — it’s hard to be sure what’s real, but it feels really, really good. The goofy, somewhat specious backstory detailed on his Bandcamp page places his origins in Texas, helming ill-fated blues bands or making embarrassing solo records that “pre-dated chillwave,” but these are stories that barely check out. The only thing we know for sure is that Berlin’s been born again with the release of Glitter Lung, an explosive collection of heartfelt songs with idiosyncratic, glam-rock aspirations. The record debuted in August, and after a week-long tour on the West Coast, Berlin’s finally bringing it home to his current hometown of Brooklyn when he pops in to East Williamsburg puppetry theater Standard Toykraft for an album release and “career retrospective” on September 11.

By Glitter Lung’s third track, over swirling synths and a canned organ beat, Berlin gets candid about feeling fear. “I tell you I’m not scared, but I’m frightened through and through. I’ve never really been prepared for you,” he sings. It’s a great anthem for potential audience members to adopt going into this event, because there’s pretty much no way to anticipate what might happen at this show. “There are gonna be snacks,” Berlin promises. “I’m thinking Raisinets and Cheetos. Who doesn’t love Raisinets?” Just don’t bring your own booze; Standard Toykraft does actually have a bar.
Berlin's music: 'antagonistic and suave at the same time, or at least that’s the goal.'

Also, be ready to lavish Berlin with attention. “I love adoration,” he says when asked if he’s excited about the show. “It’s always thrilling to have an event that’s just about praising yourself and, like, indulging one’s own narcissism, so of course I’m looking forward to that.” In fact, Berlin’s performance requires a certain type of awareness and interaction — there’s no room for a passive audience. Berlin says his music is “antagonistic and suave at the same time, or at least that’s the goal.” He adds, “However you’re willing to engage with it, it can respond to that, which is something I’m really proud of. A lot of music only really works if you engage with it in a specific way. I think if you’re looking for humor, then there’s a lot of humor, and I think that if you’re looking for something beyond humor it can deliver on that level as well.”

But what is Glitter Lung, exactly? The title of the record, Berlin explains, comes from “a made-up disease that drag queens and elementary school teachers joke about getting, where you inhale so much glitter that it slices up your lungs and kills you. I think it’s a pretty central concept to the whole operation.” There are certainly some abrasive moments; to listen to these songs feels like grappling directly with a demanding, outsize personality. His honest, emotionally awkward lyrics might make someone laugh, or make someone else cry, but Berlin gives as much as he demands, creating the sort of record Daft Punk might if they had only iPhones to compose songs on, which, by the way, is how Berlin created his masterpiece.

“I did make the record with iPhone apps,” he admits. “If you walked into the room while I was recording it would just look like I was dicking around on my phone.” His favorite is iBone, a slide-trombone app. “It’s hilarious. And it’s like, boom, slide trombone on everything — easy,” Berlin says. Ease was a big part of using apps to create whatever sounds he wanted on the record. “That was a major instigating factor,” he says. “If you see what young kids are doing when they’re engaging with music, they’re not starting garage bands. They’re not picking up drum sets or buying $800 amplifiers. They’re fucking around with a free app on a touchscreen. It seems to me like the most contemporary and representative kind of creativity, and it feels really liberating and great to do, in the same way that I imagine getting into sampling in the Eighties or Nineties felt. Suddenly everything is at your fingertips.”

There’s a deliberately campy vibe to the record, which might remind some listeners of outsider artists like Daniel Johnston or Ariel Pink. But it’s not just quirkiness for quirkiness' sake; for Berlin, these genres offer a way to take the “pity” out of “pity party,” allowing him to sing about his deepest fears and darkest emotions in a way that shifts the focus from his inner sadness to his outward persona. And that persona is almost always wearing a bright pink jumpsuit.

“When you are making earnest music and you go out and perform it amongst other people doing the same kind of thing, it really, really gets grating watching everybody shitting their feelings all over you without any kind of entryway or any way to engage with it on any level other than pity,” Berlin explains. “I didn’t want to receive pity anymore. Or demand pity. Disco and glam has been in the background for me the whole time. Emotionally, they’re just as naked. Especially a lot of these disco singles that are just one-offs by an artist you've never heard of. The artist doesn’t even really matter. There’s all these kind of masks and barriers and shields and then at the core of it there’s somebody singing very powerfully about heartbreak or loss or fear. I think you can talk about pain without wanting pity. Pity is not really constructive. I wanted to do something constructive.”

Part of that restlessness comes from needing something to do while in the throes of insomnia, so making music late at night ended up being a great outlet for Berlin. Being alone in the early morning hours during his creative process imbued Glitter Lung with a startling emptiness. “There’s so much music in the culture about being up all night, as in a party thing, or as a sadness and depression thing, and it was not either of those for me, it’s just what it was,” he says of his insomnia. “I think there’s kind of an eeriness to walking around Rite-Aid at three in the morning. Maybe more than, like, having some kind of dark night of the soul or being at Studio 54 or whatever. There’s something more solitary about it.”

Berlin knows he’s a weirdo, but he’s come to terms with it, and sees it as something that’s allowed him to realize his vision for Glitter Lung. “I think it’s good to be [weird],” he says. “If anything, I’m just getting weirder and weirder. I mean, when I was twelve, it was pretty difficult. If I was [still] struggling with it, this whole record wouldn’t exist. I’m pretty comfortable with it at this point. I’m just doing my thing.” If his retrospective attracts people who can relate and have agreed to let their freak flags fly, there will be no better way to spend a Friday than dancing away the demons alongside them. - Village Voice

Jesse R. Berlin is a mysterious man. A lovely and talented one, but a tough cookie to crack. His debut album Glitter Lung is a sonic adventure of disco and glam rock, rumored to have been created while he was holed up in a studio embracing insomnia. Not only do we have the premiere of his music video for “Wash Your Boat!” but also a bizarre interview for you to enjoy. The video features a well-placed banana and appears to have been influenced by silent films, nature documentaries, and early 80s gangster films, if said gangsters were into karaoke. Before you watch it, enjoy an interview between Jesse R. Berlin and AudioFemme’s Managing Editor, about his dream woman, the feminist bookstore from Portlandia, and the importance of listening to an entire record.

Sophie Saint Thomas: So what do you do when you can’t sleep?

Jesse R. Berlin: Uh…I don’t sleep? There’s actually one thing that works pretty consistently and it’s so specific and weird. But so Hulu Plus, they have the Criterion Collection, or most of it, streaming. And you know who Ozu is, Yasujirō Ozu? He was a Japanese filmmaker for the 30s, 40s, 50s, early 60s. And his movies are…like the most slow-moving, glacial, kind of plotless but gorgeous and moving things. He made like 80 movies, and they all have the same plot. The plot is about an old father figure set in his ways dealing with a young child who wants to live with the kids! So you don’t have to really pay attention. So I watch one of his things with the sound off and inevitably it works at some point.

ST: I was reading your bio and from what I can tell at least the insomnia part is real! Tell me about making the album Glitter Lung. Did it take three years? Were you sleeping?

JB: Yeah, yeah, that’s all true, and I wasn’t sleeping.

ST: Your process reminded me of a certain David Bowie era where he wasn’t sleeping much while recording…

JB: Well there’s the famous thing where he was making Station to Station right? And he was in like Beverly Hills. And he was just like living off of cocaine and milk. The great quote is something like “I know we made it in LA because that’s what it says on the cover.”

ST: Do you relate to that at all?

JB: I can, [although] I was consuming a lot more than milk.

ST: I heard you consume Gatorade and Milk.

JB: Well, that was like a one off thing. I’m not really big on Gatorade in general.

ST: What do you like to drink?

JB: Depends on the time of the day. I like coffee. I like a cocktail that seems like it required a lot of effort to make. Like an Old Fashioned, or a Whiskey Sour, that kind of thing.

ST: So a whiskey drinker?

JB: Yeah whiskey is pretty good. Not much of a beer drinker.

ST: I don’t drink booze anymore because it make me an asshole. I just smoke.

JB: See, that’s exactly the opposite for me. That’s so interesting. It’s really interesting how different people’s brains react to things. I can’t really do weed. I was just at the West Coast on tour, and there was like one person at every show that was like “Hey, you want to come get high?” and I think it was off-putting. I think I lost fans by saying that.

ST: Oh yeah, maybe. I feel like I’ve lost friends by not drinking anymore. So on your tour, what did you think of Portland?

JB: Portland? It was the worst show of the tour. By a pretty wide margin. I had a heckler that I had to deal with.

ST: I thought people in Portland were supposed to be nice.

JB: Yeah! I know, right. Some asshole. But the food was great, and I did try the coffee. The coffee was phenomenal. But it’s not as mythical as Portlandia will have you believe. The show was actually right next door to the feminist book store from Portlandia.

ST: I did not know that was a real place!

JB: Yeah! I tweeted something about it, not using their name just like the phrase “feminist bookstore from Portlandia.” And they found me and Tweeted back to me and were like, “Welcome! Feminism is for everybody.”

ST: That’s unbelievable. So I wanted to ask, is it true you have a wife named Misty?

JB: Yes. Well, ex-wife.

ST: Ex-wife? Have you thought about telling everyone she’s your sister? Do the brother/sister duo?

JB: Isn’t that kind of played?

ST: Yeah. So what is your dream woman like?

JB: Oh god. I try not to actually engage with that thought process. I think you sort of just got to take people as they are. It’s just about whether or not it works, right? It’s not about some kind of standard. If it’s too much about standards then nothing’s going to work out. And not just [romantically] but with anything you do.

ST: So about Glitter Lung. I played the single “How Did You Sleep Lady Kite” to a friend, who said he didn’t get it. Then he listened to the whole album, and went “Okay now I get it.” What do you think of that? Is the album meant to be heard as a cohesive experience?

JB: I think that is correct. Online singles culture, I don’t like it. You have to participate in it. Well, I guess you you don’t have to, but it’s beneficial to participate in it. But you know, it’s like… did you see that movie American Ultra?

ST: No.

JB: Do you know about it? As a pot smoker you would love it. It’s like Jesse Eisenberg and Kristen Stewart and they’re pot heads, and the government is after them. So the advertising campaign for this movie made it seem like it was going to be Pineapple Express, which I loved, and that was kind of what I was going to see it for. It wasn’t at all – it was like True Romance.

ST: Really? I love True Romance.

JB: Of course you do, that movie is amazing. And this movie was really good too. But you would never know that unless you saw the whole thing. And even like the first few scenes are like of a totally different tone. It sort of starts going in one direction and then pivots and gets super interesting. And I feel like listening to one song out of the context of a whole thing is just like seeing the ad campaign or like the first scene of a movie. Hopefully it’s enough to entice you, but it’s not going to make – at least for a record that’s like, a record, it’s not going to make a full thing, which is what I was trying to do. You have to do the whole thing. And that one song especially…how do I put it…that’s like the most Ween-like thing on the record. You know, but it’s not like a comedy record. It’s good as a single, but [my music] is about the whole thing. So I totally get how it worked for that guy.

ST: What is a Glitter Lung?

JB: It’s a fake disease that elementary school teachers and drag queens both joke about getting, where you inhale so much glitter that is slices up your lungs from the inside. And it kills you. I think it came to prominence as an Onion article.

ST: I love it. I hear your live shows are interesting.

JB: Yeah, they are interesting. What am I going for…Well, I’ve been doing this for a while, right? This is not my first rodeo. I think there’s something about playing in bands or doing singer/songwriting things where you know if you’re out there doing it, you play on all these bills with all these other people who sound pretty much exactly the same way you sound. There’s really nothing all that special or interesting about any of them, or about you, except that you know it’s varying degrees of quality. So I got fed up with that. I wanted to see if there was something I could do that nobody else could do. Whether or not it’s good, and I think it is very good – by virtue of being different. Because ultimately the thing that makes it work good for anybody is that little kernel of you. The person that shines through, right? So it was just about shaving away all the parts that weren’t that. So that it just could be that. But then you also need to protect yourself in some way. So a lot of people protect themselves by playing guitar, or looking at their pedals, or something like that. And it’s not very fun to watch. It’s very boring to watch. So I don’t play any instruments on stage. I exist as myself and I think that’s what comes across. There are scripted moments, or canned moments, which are the same sort of protection, but I think a lot more engaging.

ST: So what can we expect on your album release show at Standard Toykraft on the 11th?

JB: I mean I don’t want to spoil too much of it. Unlike many musical performances I would say it’s a character driven performance. There is a lot of character building and world building involved in that performance. I have pre-recorded stage banter.

ST: (laughs)

JB: Yes, that is the correct response to that. My ex-wife is in the show and Josh, my personal assistant is also in the show. They’re supportive presences. Not nessesarily like emotionally supportive, but just structurally supportive. There’a a surprise cover. I like to think of myself as a student of the masters, so I spend a lot of time watching Elvis performances, Prince performances. I hope that I’m not engaging in mimicry, as much as I am part of a lineage. - Audiofemme

When you listen to the new track by Jesse R. Berlin, there comes a point where you find yourself thinking, wait, is this guy just taking the piss? Then you read his bio, which his fictionalized so hilariously, that you laugh and go along with it all. It turns out this project is helmed by a New York artist who prefers to bring some fun mystique to the indie scene, and although it only takes a 30-second Google search to learn who he is, it’s better to go with it, and listen to the comical blend of new wave, chillwave, and outsider music on new track “Wash Your Boat!”, which we’re very happy to premiere here at PopMatters.

In addition, young Master Berlin has sent us four “fun facts” about the song, which are far too hilarious not to share. So read on, listen, and enjoy.

“1. The music was composed whilst trying (and failing) to pick out the Simpsons theme song by ear for an obnoxious, entitled eight-year-old boy I was teaching at the time. “That’s not a song,” he said. It is now, you dumb fuck! Ha!

“2. While driving through Springfield, MA a couple years ago, I passed one of those LED highway signs that just said “WASH YOUR BOAT.” What a stupid, ridiculous thing to put on a sign.

“3. The arrangement was difficult to get right, but it finally came together after I consulted the masterpiece album See Jungle! See Jungle! Go Join Your Gang, Yeah. City All Over! Go Ape Crazy by Bow Wow Wow. If you’ve only heard “I Want Candy,” what are you even doing? You are seriously throwing your life away. Listen to my thing first, though.

“4. The lyrics were mostly written on a bench in Central Park while I was recovering from a significant amount of dental work. No joke, Elliot Spitzer was eating a sandwich on the bench across from me, and I kinda feel like a little piece of him worked its way into the song. As such, I’d like to use this public space to invite/challenge Client 9 himself to come re-record this song with me, Sinatra “Duets”-style. I just feel like he’d nail it, you know? We could release it as a limited edition one-sided 7” on “public humiliation red” vinyl. Goddamn thing sells itself! Ball’s in your court, E.” - PopMatters

Fb-Button

It was a hot and sweaty day Friday night (hopefully one of the last!) and the climb to the third floor of the old toy manufacturing company turned puppet house/performance space, Standard Toykraft, was a little unbearable. At the top though, I was invited into a strange atmosphere of the knick knack-y vibe and the old church-y smell of the space combined with the set-up of what felt like an adults-only children’s party; pin the tail on the donkey welcomed me at the door and there was a cake that had “Eat my fuck” scribbled on it in pink icing that my hungry stomach wanted but I was too afraid to cut into. Everything was pink and bright.

It only seemed fitting that the glam-rock, 80’s inspired singer Jesse R. Berlin would be taking over the space for his CD release show for his latest album Glitter Lung. Berlin had his limited edition pink vinyl spread out across one of the purple, plastic, tablecloth-covered tables for attendees to purchase.

Berlin’s “ex-wife” walked out on stage in a teal, sequined, evening gown and started to read a eulogy about her “ex-husband” until someone informed her that Berlin was not deceased. Berlin then came on stage with his “ex-wife” and someone who seemed to be playing the part of his assistant; his assistant fanned him and gave him gum while his “ex-wife” let him borrow her phone to scroll through as a voiceover, assumingly Berlin’s voice, talked to the crowd. This happened frequently throughout the performance in between Berlin’s theatrical performances of his songs off of Glitter Lung.

Throughout the performance, Berlin shot confetti cannons, serenaded an audience member, danced around like a loon as he twirled his microphone over his head, and stripped out of his pink blazer/black button up ensemble and into a shirtless/pink cape/crown wearing costume. The audience, seemingly filled with many friends of Berlin’s, was laughing the whole time at the outrageous performance. This was something unlike anything I had ever experienced before. - Pancakes and Whiskey

There are few musicians like Jesse R. Berlin. The enigmatic and mysterious performer has worn many musical masks, from Christian pop to electronica, before settling into his new and true guise as a comic synth mastermind. A self-described genius, the tortured artist has spent many a sleepless night mulling over his craft. He plays this Saturday, August 22, at the Funzone’s one-year anniversary show with Honey Maid, Cave Babies, and Internet. We spoke in an email interview about boats, Waffle House, and a hypothetical horse carriage ride.

Your new song is called “Wash Your Boat!” Do you have a boat? If not, what kind and what would you put on it? Where would you go with it? I used to own a yacht that I named Walter Becker (of Steely Dan fame), mostly just because I thought it would be funny to tell my friend Walter Becker (of Steely Dan fame) that I owned him. But these are leaner times, alas. Still, if I had Walter (the boat, not the man) back in my possession, I’d bring a month’s supply of Planter’s Punch and smoked gouda, a few Xaviera Hollander books, and a nice big bottle of Zzzquil, and just, you know, exist.

Any particularly colorful Jesse R. Berlin tales of the sea generally? What’s your favorite sea creature? I did spend one emotionally exhausting and sexually eye-opening year in Sea Org, but unfortunately I am legally barred from discussing it. As for your second question - I’m pretty into the two octopi pictured in Hokusai’s “The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife.”

Have you had any visions during your insomnia? What did you see? Just the unbearable pain of my own psyche.

You continue to work with your ex-wife, Misty. How are things between you? What is it like continuing to collaborate with her? It is mostly tolerable, so long as nobody gives her any peyote or asks her about her Goddess Circle.

What are some of the worst songs you’ve heard lately? Are you familiar with this fellow, The Weeknd? He is truly a hideous piece of human garbage with a butt hole where his mouth ought to be. His songs give hedonism a bad name, and that breaks my heart. I also recently heard “Closer to the Heart” by Rush playing over the PA at the supermarket, and that was every bit as terrible as I remembered. My god, Rush are just the worst.

What will your auto-biography one day be called? On that note, who will play you in the movie? You All Really Blew It. And I’ll play myself, thank you very much.

What’s your preferred order at Waffle House? Two egg and cheese biscuits, hash browns smothered and covered, grits, and coffee. Or, as it is known at Waffle Houses across America, “The Jesse R.Berlin.”

Have you been to a strip club? What did you think? Love it? Hate it? Any memorable experiences? On that note, you are invited to a private event to watch any historical or pop cultural figure of your choosing strip in front of you - whom do you pick? Burlesque dancing is fine if that is your preference. Well yeah, sure, of course. I’ve lived a fairly full life. But you know, the things that actually get me going are surely unprintable in your family newspaper. So I’ll just say that the answer to your last question there is ME.

You’ve been hired on as a New York City horse carriage driver and have free license to take your passengers anywhere. Where do you take them? What is the horse’s name? Just to be clear, such work is beneath me, as I am a serious and respectable artist. But since this is a fantasy scenario - I take them first to the Museum of Natural History, where I’ll remind them of the insignificance of their lives within the vastness of the universe. Then to Bemelman’s Bar at the Carlyle Hotel, where they’re encouraged to buy me several rounds. Finally, I rob them at gunpoint. The horse’s name, if you hadn’t already guessed, is Walter Becker (of Steely Dan fame).

Is it painful to be a genius? Oh my god, yes. You have no idea. Every day is hell. - Santa Barbara Independent

Entrances and spectacles are standard fare in the rock world but trilingual introductions add a new twist to the list. Just like arriving at an international destination, the alerting announcement of the Portland debut of New York’s eccentric Jesse R Berlin arrival did that, if not mystified, the intimate crowd at Turn, Turn, Turn. Berlin ceremoniously strutted across the venue’s floor outfitted in black pants and shirt, and complimented with bright coral blazer and matching tie. The finishing touch to his ensemble was a matching flowing cape draped over his jacket.

During his Liberace entrance and escorted by his assistance/ex-wife, who impatiently paced behind him, and was the receiver of his discarded cape, like a lowly consolation prize. After resentfully fulfilling her duty, she snatched up the robe and hastily exited the stage area.

Prancing, strutting and seemingly oblivious to the crowd, Berlin’s Vegas-sized alter ego burst into his showroom act with the lead track, “Wash Your Boat!”, from his debut release Glitter Lung. On this night Berlin’s solo performance was a self-produced karaoke affair with a vocal performance accompanied by the album soundtrack. He sang four of his newly penned tracks to programmed virtual band from his inventively successful debut.

None the less, Berlin continued unfazed as local patrons stunned by the absorbed performer. But he was just warming up while he sailed through “How Do You Sleep” and “I’ve Never Really Been Prepared”. The latter is an earnest love ballad that Berlin sang longingly to the crowd, selecting one lucky patron to join him as he knelt down on one knee to propose. The puzzled onlookers stood witness the proposal before Berlin jumped to his feet and consummated the ceremony with a wild air-guitar solo.

But heartbreak be damned. The next song bust into an amphetamine fueled, wah-wah guitar intro and synth explosion of disco tango, “It Don’t Mean A Thing (If You Don’t Call Me King)”. In glorious Elvis fashion, ala Tony Manero, Berlin strutted and sung his way around the dance floor. During the instrumental bridge and voicebox backing vocals Berlin notched it up by dropping to the ground and ceremoniously rolled around on the floor, side-to-side, without missing a beat.

The last song of the evening was equally grand, as Berlin covered U2’s “Where the Streets Have No Name”. By this time Berlin didn’t quiet have Bono's pied piper’s bounce but regrouped and turned the song into a strip tease. If his performance to this point hadn’t got the crowd’s attention, the finale was sure to make a lasting impression, even in the unofficial strip capital of the country.

In an emotionally charged ending, Berlin flung of his cape, coat, tie and shirt while singing with all his remaining gusto. And he eyed and toyed with the crowd while continuing to unbutton his pants. Because when he goes there, he goes there with you, it’s all he can do. But before completely disrobing, the song and Berlin’s show concluded. A sweating, breathless Berlin bowed and gave thanks for to the appreciative, if not astounded, audience.

Berlin’s album Glitter Lung is a smartly crafted effort that reveals talented compositions with layered significance. His attempt to pull off the live performance was ambitious and daring. A backing band would have magnified the volume but might have been an unnecessary distraction. Make no mistake, in glitter land and on Glitter Lung, Berlin is the commanding main attraction. - Portland Examiner

It was nearing 9:30PM at the Ham and Eggs Tavern in Downtown Los Angeles. I was sitting alone in a small, dark, and cat-litter-scented room, sipping a beer and reading the most recent edition of The Downtowner. Small handfuls of people would poke their heads in the room, but there was no live music yet, so they would slink back to the bar for another $4 ‘shit can.’ Eventually, a small group of people entered, including one person who I think was the person I was here to see.


When I had first been pitched the idea of interviewing and writing a piece on Jesse R. Berlin, all I knew about him was his newest album, Glitter Lung, his bio on the Crash Avenue website, and this interview for Mecca Lecca. I politely declined, stating he was likely above our target age for the blog, but when his publicist emailed me back saying “To be honest, Jesse’s in his mid-late 20’s… the bio is purely fiction, part of a story we created around the “Jesse R. Berlin” character haha,” I was forced to face the truth head-on: this guy actually scared the shit out of me… but I kind of liked it.

I spent the rest of the afternoon contemplating whether or not to accept, listening to Glitter Lung, and asking the advice of my moral support team, which came back split between “RUN. AWAY.” and, “DO. IT.” In a moment of spontaneity, and under the sudden realization that I had actually listened to all of Glitter Lung maybe 4 times through, I accepted. I did all the research I could about Jesse, scouring the depths of the web for anything, anything at all, and composed some questions.

And, within a day, he had responded. Below is what transpired.

Your influences on music seem varied. You’ve listed “Wash Your Boat” influences as “The Simpsons” theme song (and spiting an 8 year old), a freeway sign, Bow Wow Wow, and Elliot Spitzer. “Lady Kite” influence is mainly insomnia. This album seems to span so many genres, or none at all, it’s unclassifiable as far as I’m concerned (is “interesting” and “worthy of a listen (or many)” a genre?).

How did you manage to tie all these (otherwise unrelated) things together to create this cohesive masterpiece?

Thank you for your flattery, first and foremost. It is a masterpiece, and I appreciate your ability to recognize it as such.

There were lots of influences, yes, but I’m not sure I can dig too deeply into how they all came together. The answer is simply that I’m a genius and this all just comes naturally to me, with very little in the way of effort or thought.

Can we listen to one song and get a feel for you as an artist or does the whole album go together?

I can’t really understand that mentality of just listening to one song, or part of song, and making a decision about an artist based on that. It seems to be a pretty popular tactic, though. It must simply be that I care more art and beauty, and appreciate them on a deeper level, than most other people.

So if you’re not as sophisticated as I am, sure, listen to one song, listen to ten seconds of a song, do whatever you want, but I honestly don’t know how you can look at yourself in the mirror. If you are like me and you recognize that, say, watching a single scene from a movie isn’t going to make a whole lot of sense without watching the rest of the movie, then I don’t even have to tell you listen to the whole album, because your inclination is to do that anyway.

What other sorts of things influenced you in the making of the album?

I was really into the idea of Disneyland, and making an album that sounded like Disneyland. Which is to say – immaculately clean, obsessively detailed, completely unrealistic, and with a light and joyful veneer being applied to some very complicated and scary experiences.

I was also heavily inspired by the John Cassavetes’ The Killing of a Chinese Bookie, John Waters’ Female Trouble, and Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye.

You are seemingly extremely musically knowledgeable, and music is clearly a huge passion of yours- did you always know you wanted to make music? When was the first time you thought to yourself “I want to be a musician.” ?

I should certainly hope I’m knowledgeable and passionate! I shudder to think of what music might sound like if it was made by someone who wasn’t knowledgeable and passionate! Even Imagine Dragons seem knowledgeable and passionate, in their own deplorable way.

But no, I didn’t always want to do this. The first goals I can remember having were to speak and to use the big boy potty. Naturally, I knocked those both out of the park. Music came a little later.

If you had the chance to perform alongside any band, from the present or history (or the future?), who would it be, where would it be, and what year would it be?

I feel like the Beatles would probably draw well. I also wouldn’t have minded playing with Prince on the Purple Rain tour, Bowie on the Station to Station tour, or U2 on the ZooTV tour.

If you could pick the brain of anyone, living or dead, about any topic, who would it be and what would you talk about?

Andy Kaufman and/or Alexander McQueen. I’d let them take the lead, subject-wise. I’d just be there to listen and learn.

As for your future as a musician, you’re touring solo right now, and your tour ends in a belated launch party (and premature(?) retrospective) in NY. What happens after that?

I have another northeast tour already planned for the fall, and then just even more touring after that. I do have 70% of a second album done, but that last 30% is always the most time-consuming part. I also have a fragrance line I’m trying to get off the ground, Jesse by JRB.

I do wish you hadn’t called my retrospective “premature.” We’d been getting along so well up until this point, and now you’ve really disappointed me.

Music videos?

Just, like, in general? Yeah, sure, they’re cool. Love that “Sledgehammer” clip.

Are there any artists you’d like to collaborate with? (Musically or otherwise?)

Off the top of my head: Wong Kar Wai, Kanye West, Adrian Sherwood, Bridget Everett, Les Blank, Roseanne Barr, the Coen Brothers, Teri Gender Bender, Brian Eno, Dan Harmon, Will Oldham.

What do you want the world to know about “Glitter Lung”? What do you want the world to know about you?

My album is the third best album to come out this year (tip o’ the cap to Kendrick Lamar and Beauty Pill). Opening your heart and mind to it will invariably make your life richer and more fulfilling. Get on board now so that you can tell your post-apocalyptic mutant grandkids that you were there when it all went down.



unnamed-1 5.05.35 PMBack at the Ham and Eggs downtown, I continued to sip my beer, and pretended to be consumed in The Downtowner, playing ‘fly-on-the-wall’ to the group that had gathered in front of me. It took almost no time at all to confirm my suspicions, the guy standing directly in front of me was none other than the legend himself, Jesse R. Berlin. He wore all black, with bright white loafers. When someone pointed them out, he took one off, proudly admitted he found them for $13 in Palm Springs that morning, and displayed how comfortable and sensible they were.

He helped first artist sound check, gave him a hug, and thanked him for playing. As he played, Jesse subtly danced, stopping occasionally for quad stretches and water. He disappears for a while, and as the other artist exits the stage, an introduction starts on the speakers, and then repeats in Spanish, and French. Jesse comes from the back of the room, transformed into his hot pink jacket and matching tie and cape, escorted by a small blonde in a blue dress (he later introduces her as “his wife, Misty”). He steps onto the stage, removes his cape to the intro of “Boy Blue” by Electric Light Orchestra, mutters a quick “Hi!” and starts singing.

The next hour of my life was full of things I can’t truly describe. It could be self-preservation, but more likely, even a full week later, I’m still too awed to speak of the events that transpired. What I do recall unfolds something like this:

Lots of mic swinging. And then hugely impressive mic catching. A little bit of tripping. Some impressive posing, on and off the stage. He screams a little bit early on. During “I’ve Really Never Been Prepared For You” he comes off the stage, gets on one knee, and holds the hand of a guy in the crowd. There was lots more mic swinging. Halfway through a song near the end, he stops the music, lays down on the stage, claims, “I need a minute, OK, OK, I got this, OK, go,” and he starts again. And by ‘starts’ I mean, he gets off the stage, lays on the ground and begins rolling around the floor while singing. After a short dispute with his escort wife, U2’s “Where The Streets Have No Name” starts playing, and Jesse begins taking his layers off and mumbling incoherently into the mic. The show ends with him shirtless and in a pink cape, asking the crowd for positive affirmations. “Repeat after me: You’re perfect the way you are. We love you, Jesse.” Naturally, we repeated it back to him.

As I left the tavern and walked back through the dirty streets of Downtown to the train, I tried to process what I had just seen, and form some sort of narrative about the entire experience. Here was an artist, who, in an era where straightforwardness and honesty is socially valued, decided to forego the entire corporate agenda, and in his own enigmatic and cryptic way, become a part of the scene which he so passionately speaks of. Impressively, especially in the transparent age we live in, the more you read about Jesse R. Berlin, the more questions you have, and the less you realize you actually know about him. But it’s that quality, that genuine mystique, that crazy edge, that intriguing and mysterious unknown, that makes him and his music so inspiringly exhilarating. - The Sundaze

Today's free song comes courtesy of Jesse R Berlin. The New York-based musician has quite the sense of humor, dubbing his eccentric music "disco/lounge/slapstick," which is an oddly fitting description. He's gearing up to release Glitter Lung later this summer and we're excited to offer up his latest single, "Wash Your Boat!" Stream and snag the song above and read Jesse's hilarious track commentary below.

“'Wash Your Boat' was something I saw written on one of those LED highway signs once, in Springfield, Massachusetts. It was 2010, I had just broken up my old band for the second time and was generally in a bad way. My money was mostly tied up in a legal matter with Bruce Cockburn (who knows exactly what he did), and I was driving from empty show to empty show and motel to motel, leaving behind a string of unpaid bills and bad feelings. My now ex-wife, Misty, and my assistant, Josh (I think? I never bothered to actually ask him what his name was), were both in the car with me. Misty and I had met about ten years prior during a show in Palm Springs (she was the opening act, doing a delightfully unprintable thing with a grapefruit), and she had become my backup dancer and all-around cheerleader, but was now in the process of divorcing me (though we continued to work together).

"Josh was behind the wheel at the time, and trying to get us to listen to fucking “Prairie Home Companion” because he thought it would “lighten the mood” (it did NOT). Misty noticed the sign first and tapped me on the shoulder. “It’s for you.” Wash Your Boat. The fuck? But I kept thinking about it, not that she ever let me forget. Backstage at every show, she kept saying it, “Wash your boat, fucker. Wash your fucking boat.” Ok, ok. She was always into shit like that, all that woo woo hippie crap, but maybe she was onto something. 'Clean up your messes,' the sign seemed to be saying to me. 'Take care of the details. Fix the little things that can be fixed and the bigger problems will sort themselves out.' Ok. I canceled the tour that night and told Josh to pull an all-nighter and drive us home. I started making this record the next day, which in hindsight really didn’t fix anything or address any of my problems in a practical sense, but it did make me feel better for a little while. So that was something."

Glitter Lung is slated for an August 14 release and can be pre-ordered through Bandcamp. Jesse took up touring again and will be hitting the road later this week to support the new tunes. Check out a full list of dates below. - PureVolume

You’d swear you were looking at the product of a coupling between latter year Elvis in Vegas (or Andy Kaufman as Elvis) and early-career Meatloaf. He sits in a public park, the specter of outsider art curly-cuing at his ankles like a feline ghost that won’t quit. The nearby shrieks of children running through a fountain punctuate his measured talk. He contemplates his four times-resoled perforated black leather walking shoes. A summer breeze toys with the salmon pink cape he has donned in preparation for this evening’s performance at an undisclosed location in Bushwick. A known insomniac, his ageless face is pallid. An embattled 5 o'clock shadow tries to make its way through his impetuous, boyish cheeks. But this man is no child, and perhaps he never has been.

According to Jesse R Berlin’s bio, as a lad in 1980’s Houston’s Tex Mex scene, the chestnut-locked artist made ends meet refining proto-laser tag equipment and putting in long hours at a sweltering chop shop until fate spirited him into the arms of the music industry. There, he gained traction with a series of half assed trucker-themed ballad covers. It wasn’t long before the sleepless imp’s creative trajectory spun out of control, and over the next two decades his dubious choices left him stranded in several ill-advised genres including hobbled electronica (an LP titled MachineME) and one catastrophic sojourn in Christian contemporary music simply entitled JESSE.

So how does a broken man shore up the remaining shards of his dignity and keep on running against the wind? He spins a performative web so tangled that totally ordinary dudes in the audience at his shows cry with tears of pure emotion until he takes them by the hand and sings directly into their hearts, his spittle misting their faces as he remonstrates them for giggling. He wails his LP, “Glitter Lung,” karaoke-style on an Ipod hooked up to a PA, the tracks glimmering with soupçons of Roxy Music, Sparks, Daniel Johnson, Phil Collins like so many piraña flitting about in a murky rainforest pond.

Jesse R Berlin’s assistant follows him onstage with a folded up kleenex for him to spit his gum into before singing. He berates his fans and writhes on the floor by turns. He’s also known to check his text messages mid song. And all of this culminates in the most despondent removal of clothing you have ever seen. Topless and disaffected before hoards of adoring devotees, Berlin proceeds to cover- nay, grunt- U2’s “Where the Streets Have No Name.”

And so the phoenix rises out of its ashes.

We’re gonna have to go down the rabbit hole of your history. How old are you?

Sixty max.

And yet you’re keeping your finger on the pulse of youth culture. Is it true that you attended Taylor Swift’s concert last night?

Yeah. It was like a psychedelic experience. I’m still digesting it all. It was a real performance of sincerity. I wanted to see how somebody works at that massive level. And I’m well aware that I’m not gonna be working at that level because I’m not a psychopath; that kind of thing just isn’t in the cards for me. I mean, there were a lot of small children. The show was self-consciously arty and mature- it reminded me of the Yeezus tour. She had a piano that looked like her signature perfume bottle and a levitating catwalk, but then every twenty minutes she would have to break character and pander to children and say, “It’s not what boys think about you that’s important. It’s about believing in yourself! You guys are all my friends so follow me on Instagram!”

I dare you to say that to your audience tonight.

You’ll see what it’s like tonight.

How do you produce sincerity from scratch?

That’s kind of the thesis statement of this whole project. I don’t know how at all. I’ve been doing music for a long time- singer songwriter, guitarist, everything. I wanted this album to sound like Disneyland- no breath, no space. I used free and one dollar Iphone apps on all the tracks. See? Ibone [Ipad’s “pocket trombone”]! Brilliantly named. Nothing sounds cheaper or faker than a ninety-nine cent app. God knows in the music industry today it doesn’t make sense to carry around actual guitars and instruments. I used modern tools. All the instruments on “Glitter Lung” I did in my apartment, playing with my phone, which is like five feet from where I met up with you. There’s a fuckin’ lot of musicians around here.

It would seem that being a performer for so long and pandering to crowds has left you feeling cynical.

Yes it has. Have you ever played in some shit hole town to six people? It sucks! You have to go there and be on stage and be like, “This is so great, thank you… Pittsburgh. I’m so glad you people are here; what a great night.” It’s bullshit.

Well you can’t get exactly get angry at them and ask, “How come there one only six of you.” How do you deal?

I think you’ll see at the show tonight how I’ll answer that question. I’m not a naturally social person.

You seem pretty affable.

Yeah, but you and I have to do this. You were sent here to talk to me. I was never very good at being artificially positive. The thing with making art is that you want to emphasize what you can do and play down your shortcomings. I’ve always been a brutally honest person and very frank about my displeasure when I feel it. I can’t be like, “Hi, I’m this guy, I’m totally relatable. Check out my songs!” So rather than try to do this performance of sincerity that I’ve never been capable of, mine is a performance of insincerity. It’s a natural fit for me, and then maybe by going over the top with that insincerity, it gets at something that’s really true.

So you push yourself to be the biggest douche you can possibly be?

I do.

What are you gonna do with your hair for tonight’s gig?

Nothing.

Can I style it into a French braid?

No.

Is there gonna be a smoke machine?

A disco ball.

Are you are a recluse?

Probably, by Brooklyn standards.

What do you eat?

Poorly.

Do you remember your dreams?

Infrequently, but when I do, they’re not good. This record was the fruit of my insomnia. It’s largely about not being able to sleep.

Are there any contemporaries you’d like to work with?

Remember ABC’s debut record “Lexicon of Love?” Martin Fry did it with Trevor Horn from The Buggles. I’d like to be in a room with Martin Fry; he’s such a great songwriter, and I’d like to see if I could get something new and interesting out of him. I’m also really, really jealous of Franz Ferdinand for making that record with Sparks. Also I’d like to see how Steve Albini works.

Are you on a search?

Like anyone who’s making anything, yeah. It’s been pretty weird, as would be any search that leads you to a Taylor Swift concert.

A Taylor Swift concert would be the least of it, though. Word has it that at one point, you and your brother, who had developed some early-laser tag technology together, incorporated the use of said equipment into an arena show in Houston in the late 80’s and that it resulted in tragedy and an arrest. What’s that about?

My lawyer has advised me not to talk about it.

What about you in a tour bus full of women doing sand-art with finely ground precious stones?

That one’s true. Those were wild times.

Man, listen to you. Your voice just cuts. It’s singular. I think it must have to do with your physiognomy and the way your lungs and larynx are put together.

It is. For better or worse, it is. - Me In My Place