Interview: Dave Lee Roth

THE VAN HALEN ICON IS HOT FOR SENSEI

Veteran Van Halen frontman and rock legend DAVID LEE ROTH has called Tokyo home for nearly a year. It might seem odd that an American rock star would settle in the Land of the Rising Sun—but it’s something that he's done time and again in other cities over the years. His interest in Japan, though, goes way back, as Metropolis learned when we sat down with him for a lengthy session at his city residence.

One thing is clear from the start: living here is about continuing his education.

“I’m in school every single day—this is Roth University, by the way,” he says, getting right to it. “I do language every day for two hours… I have a Go sensei, a professional, who comes over two times a week. I love that game.”

We ask this long-time martial artist if he’s studying kendo in Japan—and he quickly corrects us.

“No, it’s not kendo. It’s kenjutsu. And I’m going for my menkyo kaiden [full mastery] and I’ve been doing that since I was 12.”

He explains that was the first time he held a sword in his hand. His father, an eye surgeon, had a lot of Japanese patients and Roth grew up immersed in Japanese-American culture in his hometown of Pasadena—an area of California that housed internment camps during World War Two.

“I grew up next to Mr. Yoshida’s house—he was a kendo instructor,” he says. “Today, I’m the master of the six-foot staff —it’s actually a shower curtain rod, but it just looks great in the lights and I use it on stage.”

He laughs—something David Lee Roth does a lot, flashing his pearly whites and making you feel as if it’s the first time he’s told the joke.

“The first time I saw an iaido kenjutsu demonstration with an actual katana I was maybe ten years old? Eleven? And I held that in my hands and… Careful what you show your kids! Inazuma!…Crrrraashh… Lightning…!”

He hasn’t let up since.

“And I do sumi-e [Japanese ink painting] as well,” he continues. “I always wanted to go to art school. I always knew there was such a thing as perspective even though my parents routinely accused me of never having any.”

He laughs, and then quickly gets serious.

“But now that I’m here I’ve found a very serious professional teacher. My sumi-e teacher is right out of the Meiji restoration. He’s got the little goatee and he’s a man of very, very few words. He reminds me of my Russian chess teacher. And now we’ve grown to become friends, ya follow? It’s part of the education. It’s part of getting to know the neighborhood, but it’s also sharpening the sword—mentally, spiritually, physically—because when I go back to show business in the United States… all of show business is taking a serious beating. It’s war. It’s conflict.”

After bringing up showbiz, I have to ask if he’s working on any new music in Tokyo.

“I’m in and out of the studio over in Ginza, routinely. Great studio, superb studio.”

But it’s not new music he’s recording—it’s his radio show, The Roth Report, and the radically different solo variety show, Tokyo High Power Style.

“I invented the title. It’s supposed to be like ‘Walkman’—like no white guy would ever say that but when you do it seems to work for you,” he laughs. “So that’s me trying to sound Japanese-ish [in his best salaryman-style English] ‘To-ki-o Ha-i Pa-wa— Su-ta-i-ru.’”

It’s evident he’s riding a surging wave of creativity and lateral thinking in Japan.

“There’s more latitude here, ‘gap,’ I think it’s called. There’s a gap and this is one of the things [sumo champion] Konishiki has shared with me—is that folks find it ‘interesting’ if you do something that’s unexpected or incongruous.”

He feels that popular music—and show business in general—is much more restrictive back in the US, where you have to be known for one thing, and if you try something different, it’s usually not received well. He cites an example:

"Advertising Boss Coffee in the US—whoa! They’re gonna make fun of you on Saturday Night Live. Here it’s kind of expected. I’d love to do a Boss Coffee ad. Here, I’ll do it now: [low yakuza voice] ‘Who’s boss now?’"

He lets out another big laugh.

"It’s pretty simple, but it works. You couldn’t do that in the United States, and for me—in rock and roll—to do something that is all ‘floor’ music let’s call it (because it’s house mix, it’s dance, it’s R&B, funk, whatever, I call it ‘floor’) for me to even participate with floor music and tell all my stories along with Japanese translations…" he pauses for effect. "Well, we’re not sure. Jeez you changed your hat, Bob—you’re not a cowboy anymore."

For Roth, who broadcasts Tokyo High Power Radio Report in both English and Japanese along with his assistant, Etsuko, it’s not about guests or sticking to musical styles—it’s about exploring and education. We ask if he brings in any of his famous Japanese friends or musicians as guests.

"I’m not so interested in the battle for guests. We talk about websites, we’ll talk about the blogosphere, the internet… A lot of my colleagues have reached back in time, 1970s style to replicate what’s going on in radio and perhaps even more on talk show television—and it becomes a battle for guests. Whose guests are better? Who has more guests? And, well…" he stops. "How many lead singers in a rock band does it take to screw in a light bulb? The answer is one: You hold the bulb and wait for the world to revolve around you… [laughs]. Yeah, I’m not really interested in guests. I use as my template Mark Twain, who also traveled the world.”

His concern, it seems, is to enlighten those that listen—though he of course teaches on subjects of his own mysterious choosing.

"As you find your way through The Roth Show you’re gonna learn things. The last episode, Konishiki mentioned it right here. He said, ‘Wow! I learned a lot about radio! I didn’t know the history of FM radio and why the DJs [baritone FM voice] talk... so... slow..."

He laughs again but it’s clear he’s enjoying his new didactic role.

We ask what the perfect day in Tokyo is for Diamond Dave.

"It’s not going to be perfect for most people," he says. "Most of my day is spent in some variation of school or transition in between. It starts off at three in the morning because I’m running the show [Van Halen’s Tour] from up the balcony, up there on my headset… We’re planning now for everything that happens next season… Internationally we’ll probably do 50 shows outside of the United States. Then I go back to sleep, you know, it’s a lot of business. Then school starts for me at nine in the morning and I’m done at noon. Usually three times a week I’ll have sumi-e and then again there’ll be three times a week when I go and train with the sword. Weekends my form of recreation is go. It’s not to most people’s taste."

How long does he see himself staying in Tokyo?

"I’m based out of here now."

So, he’s calling it home, then?

"Yeah. And I travel back and forth. For me the long flight means I get to read a whole book without phone calls. I’m still a book reader. I have a stack of books that don’t get touched while I’m home. Step into that airplane, ‘Ahhhhh.’ I can read a whole book on a one-way flight."

The highly content and independent Roth says the only thing missing is his dog, Russell.

"His inoculations are just about done. He’s an Australian cattle dog—he’s a Queensland Blue. Next time we do an interview here, you’ll see Russ. Russ travels with me everywhere—we did fifty-five cities together on the last Van Halen tour. After that, I’m happy."

Fortunately, Russ will be around for Van Halen’s dates in Japan.

"We’re playing for two weeks, you know, it’s the devil’s rush. We’re playing Nagoya, Osaka and Tokyo."

We end on his perceptions of day-to-day life in Tokyo for those of us that come to live here—how it seems to fire them up.

"It does for me. The ideas are much more myriad, and much more complex and constant here. And you know what? A lot of it comes from the interaction of people on the street. ‘Sumimasen’ style, you know, just that simple respect and the simple acknowledgement of others— it’s pretty rare in the US."

David Lee Roth on…

His Japanese tattoo:

"The tattoo is… a long-thought idea. It’s not impulsive. I grew up knowing what ukiyo-e was before I could pronounce it. It is… well, it is as Da Vinci said. ‘All the great art started here in Japan, a zillion years ago.’ I’m talking about Bob Da Vinci who owns the Subway across the street… [laughs] I see the [look on your] face! [big knee-slapping laugh]. It’s way downtown. The artists are all Japanese. They don’t speak any English at all—but they’re modern. I’m never going to be Japanese, so I didn’t get a Horiyashi-style. I’m never gonna be yakuza. I’m never gonna be samurai—well a finely-tuned Jewish samurai [laughs]. It’s excruciating to get. The average dragon takes about 20 to 30 hours—we’re goin’ on 120 on what I have goin’ on my back here.”

And how many hours are left?

"Well, you got the whole front…"

So you’re all in?

"First, let me print the disclaimer here: At the tender age of 58 going on 80 very few people care about my naked body anymore. That being stated up front—I’m now a little more interesting every time I step out of the studio…. It’s something that I’ve been thinking about and considering probably for 30 years…. I worked in collaboration with the artist. He’s in his early thirties; he’s a graduate of art school here—Nihi, out of the Sunsqlit Studio. I subscribe to all the magazines. I collect all the books—and have for decades. Once I saw that signature style, I said, ‘Okay. There’s the one.’ And we’ve applied a variety of fine arts approaches to what we’re doing back there. An example: it was important to me that a Japanese hand does that work because I can tell the difference. But that being said, I brought the colors from all over the world. I have the capacity to not just locate, but to pay for—that’s one of the upsides of my day job—and we brought colors from Paris, Miami, London, New York City and California. I showed up with 14 different kinds of white: translucent white, bright white, reflective white, opaque white etc. and we laid them out like we were gonna paint a car. Having grown up in a neighborhood where watching 26 coats of hand-rubbed, pearlescent, candy-apple-red lacquer drive by two-inches off the pavement didn’t cause the blink of an eye. So we applied that approach. It’s automotive-style—multiple coats and not just the same ink over and over again. The colors I’ve got going back there are mind-blowing—but they’re framed by a classic Japanese hand. You can tell from across the room. ‘That was a Japanese hand that did that.’ The colors are from outer space… I was talking to somebody from Tribal magazine—it’s one of the tattoo magazines here—and he said, ‘How did you arrive at the colors?’ I said all I did was walk past the shoe stores for the last three blocks here [laughs]. It’s a combination of future and old school. The dragon on my back has a little bit of a smile, there’s a little bit of a modern edge to it there, at the same time, in the right lighting, it’s scary cuz I ain’t… talking… ’bout… love…"

On speaking the lingo:

"English is spoken here? Yeah right. I go to the movies frequently here because I understand movies even though I don’t speak the language. I’m in school every single day—this is Roth University, by the way […]—but going to the movies and watching something in Japanese? Folks say to me, 'Wow, how do you do that?' I go, I go to a fuckin' opera, too—I don’t understand a syllable of that and I’m still wildly enthusiastic (or dis-enthusiastic). I find my way pretty readily here. I’ve been traveling in Van Halen—just the Van Halen su-tai-ru since… What? This is 35 years? Probably closer to 40 if you include the club years, the Beatles-in-the-Reeperbahn Golden years."

On coming to Japan:

"Most musicians will come throughout these parts and reflect: 'Oh, I love Japan. I love Mexico City. Oh, I just love Paris, France, it’s just great. The people are wonderful… The food is amazing—especially the sashimi, you gotta try it—it tastes a lot like fish' [laughs]. And they never come back. I prefer to transport like a racehorse: eat, sleep, run, win, eat, sleep, run, win. I’ll pick the places I’m the most wildly enthusiastic about and actually move in. Look out your window—that’s me waving. I ain’t drowning, I’m waving. And, uh, I’ve been here since last June. Not in this building, but since last June finding my way around."

On how all his study helps:

"The most clearly evident would seem to be physically, but something as simple as, ‘I don’t blink.’ When we train in kenjutsu it’s gone serious. I have two new sets of my upper six teeth here. This is my second set and they’re like spare tires at the Indianapolis five hundred. My dentist is rich—he drives a nicer car than I do. I have a doctor on tap here who can do a mattress stitch. I have a dentist here who can stabilize (just in case) and the whole point of that is not Napoleonic force, it’s you don’t blink. Every time we make contact, vato style, every time we connect with the bamboo swords or even close draw with the real swords—if you blink, you just lost. You had a gap in your conversation. I am Van Halen’s dangerous little secret. Think of me as the Wizard of Oz with a little reverb behind the scenes and when its time to do business, the Van Halens have a very serious manager, Irving Azzof, he’s well known and I don’t have a manager. I don’t have an agent. There’s only one other guy who is my sempai, who’s Mick Jagger."

On blending in to Tokyo:

"Most people do not know who I am when I’m here. I dress way down as you can see. I become part of the building. I’m a people watcher first and foremost. You know, if you dress like Elton John, they’re all watching you (with all due respect…). So when I approach somebody it’s just as some white guy with a smile, and I’ve had great success with that—I have a lot of fun with it. Whether it’s the guy behind the counter or just a stranger on the corner, I see that that has changed radically—at least in Nagoya, Osaka and Tokyo. I see that there isn’t so much design to become American. I see it on television: there’s as much bad acting here as there is on American television so I see some interesting developments there."

On conbinis and diet:

"Of course—and they’re way advanced! 7/11, in America, has nothing on what’s going on here. I feed myself. I cook, I shop, I do groceries, etc., by and large because of my 'crocodiet' as I call it. I eat like a crocodile—pretty much fish, birds, and whatever foliage got in with it [laughs]. I wish I could eat half the things I see in the window here, I just can’t do it for physical and medical reasons, you know. That being said, I am in and out of the convenience stores routinely and in out of the grocery stores and I’m delighted by it. On the other hand, I see shochu bottles that are as long as my shin bone here—right at kid level. You know they stopped walking kids past the slot machines in Vegas for the same reason. I’ve gotta wonder… I don’t know what the healthy benefit of that is. You’re walking toddlers past bottles of booze that are as long and as tall as them and that is a part, perhaps, of American style. The original gateway drugs are Marlboros and Budweiser [laughs]. Substitute Mild Seven and Suntory anything. It’s got its downsides. On the other hand, I can’t imagine any of my favorite music being composed, recorded or performed in a smoke free environment. Historically, currently and otherwisedly."

Jeff Richards

Metropolis

7th June 2013