Dennis Driscoll is a heck of a storyteller. He comes from Inwood, a neighborhood so far north in Manhattan that you've probably never dared to go up there. He recently released his first disc of spoken word material, "Inwood Stories", in which he chronicles what life was like growing up in that area. Honestly, some of it's so crazy it's hard to believe that it's true. But it is. From swimming in human waste in the East River, rampant heroin usage, to harrowing experiences with the "raccoon man," Dennis always tells it like it was.
What he has to say may not sound that out of the ordinary to listeners of gansta rap, but in spoken word form they exhibit a entirely new, raw quality. Sometimes he'll have you laughing out loud, other times you'll doubt whether or not laughter is appropriate at all. In any case, he'll leave you wanting more.
You can download this interview as a word file here. Listen to Shit LIne:
FCR: Tell us about what convinced you to finally put your stories onto disc & the process of it all. What are your goals for the disc and will there be a follow up?
DD: Well it sort of just happened. I had been telling these stories to friends for years. The neighborhood I come from, Inwood, has a long tradition of story telling. It was mainly an Irish American neighborhood back until the early 70s. Believe it or not, Irish people drink. We drank (a lot) from an early age. Most of us started drinking when we hit 12 and drinking in bars by 16. When drinking we told each other stories. Most of us were good at it, so when I started hanging out downtown and going to CBGB's and other clubs I took my stories with me.
In 1994 my brother and some friends opened a restaurant. I started working there and on Sundays one of my duties was to do inventory with my partner Steve Latham. During this time I would usually tell him a story, and he suggested I write them down and we could put them on a website that the restaurant was going to start. We did do the website but decided these were not the kind of stories that would bring people into the restaurant and didn't put them on the site.
At about the same time I met a woman online. We got to talking about where we were from. I said I was from NYC and she asked what part. I told her, "its a small neighborhood I'm sure you never heard of". Turns out she had heard of it and was a big fan of the writings of a guy named Jim Carroll, who wrote a book called Basketball Diaries which was about Inwood, and its drug using inhabitants. She was also involved in an email list dedicated to the works of Jim Carroll and asked me to join. So I joined and just lurked for a while until one day I decided to put one of my stories on the list, I put up a story I call Grand Union and the response was really good. So I wrote some more.
I sent them to friends on the net including my friend Glen Hansard. Glen really liked the stuff and was very supportive. A lot of my friends are musicians and at the time I was playing bass in a NYC country band so had a lot of musician friends. One of them, Mark Suall said he would like to work with me. We did a couple of gigs together and I decided that I should work with Mark. He is about my age, a New York City native and understood me. I put the disc out with the financial help of my Dad and pretty much just sell it at gigs and on the net. I also thought it'd be easier to release a CD than try to get a book published.
I'm not sure what kind of market there is for spoken word discs and will probably sit on a couple of hundred of these CDs for years to come but I think it was worth putting out. It paid for itself and has taught me that you can't depend on your friends to buy your CDs. I am sure I'll do another one and hopefully I'll start working on that soon.
FCR: The music that accompanies the stories is great; can you tell us about that process? Did the disc come out how you wanted it to?
DD: Well the way it happens is I do the vocal part of the track first. I'd leave that with Mark and he would build the music around the stories. It took us years to come up with what ended up on the disc. I'd redo a reading and Mark changed the music on some tracks and we just kept trying until we came up with something we were both happy with. Mark did the bulk of the CD except for the tracks Shitline and Shalom Absalom. Shitline I took to my friend Robbie Mangano. He asked me what I wanted it to sound like and I sort of blurted out "Surf music" and he came up with the music for Shitline. Shalom Absalom is a Ween song that Robbie and I recorded for an internet tribute CD to the guys in
Ween. We recorded it, drunk, years ago. When it came time to put out the CD I decided to put Shalom on it. I called Mickey, aka Dean Ween and asked him if it was ok to use. He was already a fan of my writing and I'd been sending him the tracks as they were finished. He liked what I'd been doing and said I could use the track. Mickey and I had talked about doing some tracks together but his schedule never permitted it to happen, maybe in the future we will get a chance to work together, who knows.
I am really happy with the way the CD came out even though I can't really listen to it because I don't really like the sound of my voice on tape. But I like the way it looks; I sort of "borrowed" the layout of the cover from Television's Marquee Moon. Fred Smith from Television helped me out with the disc a bit and I sent him the artwork before I sent it to be pressed and he liked it so I went ahead with it.
FCR: Did you leave any stories out or did you feel like you had to censor yourself at all?
DD: I have written a few stories I am not sure I'll ever release. Even though I don't use people's real names some of these stories would probably really bother the relatives of the people in these stories. I think about their feelings and just don't want to bring up bad memories for them. Also I try to find humor in even my most serious stories, some of the cocaine stories I have I just can't find any humor in them and I have put those on the back burner.
FCR: A lot of the tracks on the disc deal with drug usage in a very matter of fact kind of way. Have you met any criticism for this?
DD: Early on one of my friends said to me "Most of your stories deal with drugs, do you really want to be known as a "drug" writer?" Drugs were a big part of my life growing up and most of the more interesting things that happened to me involved drugs. It didn't seem to bother anyone, at least until recently. In June I did a show in Ireland, at a writer's festival in a place called Listowel in County Kerry with my friend Glen Hansard. Glen set this up for me and I decided to not bring my "band" with me and just read the stories with no backing. After all it was a writer's fest.
Minutes into my set, Glen gets a call on his mobile phone. The committee that runs the festival was on the line. They asked Glen "Do you know he is talking about heroin and cursing?" Glen said "yes". Well it seems this was not acceptable to the committee and they wanted him to get me off stage. He refused and pretty much told them off. But it was the first time I ever got a complaint about the content. I know the stories aren't for everyone but I write about what I know.
FCR: You're clean now. Is sharing these stories a way for you to stay clean? Was the decision to put them out a way of deterring others from using heroin/drugs?
DD: Getting clean was a long, long process and everyday there is the possibility that I will just say fuck it and get high. Over the years I have to say I have strayed. But what happens is I'll use some drugs and realize that this is not what I want to do with my life and not use again for long periods. I didn't start writing with any thoughts about telling people not to use drugs. I don't try to dissuade anyone but I have gotten emails from people telling me that after reading my stories they will never use heroin, which is great.
I have also been told by friends that after reading or hearing the stories made them want to go out and get some heroin, so I guess it can go either way. Some people take them as cautionary tales and some take it as fond memories of heroin use. I just tell it like it was.
FCR: During your live shows, some of the things you talk about are very funny, and others quite serious. Do audiences ever laugh at things you don't think are funny or vice versa? How do you deal with that?
DD: Humor is a big part of life for me. I know I'm doing well in my readings when I get that first laugh. The reactions have been all very good and most people seem to get it. My story, Raccoon Man is about a child molester and that story gets a lot of laughs. I know a couple of lines in there are funny, but it still amazes me that people do laugh considering the subject matter. Maybe it's just nervous laughter. But on the whole people seem to get it.
FCR: Aside from being involved in the restaurant business, you're also a bassist. What was your first public performance as a spoken word artist like vs. your experience as a bassist?
DD: Playing bass on stage is a lot easier than telling stories. When you play bass you are surrounded by your band mates and the bassist is usually a team player. Your role as a bassist is to drive the music along with the drummer. You play both rhythm and melody, but basically you are kind of anonymous. The bassist usually stands in the back and doesn't attract too much attention to himself. We leave that to singers and lead guitarists. But when you are up there telling stories, you are pretty much on your own.
No matter how good the music behind me is the people are there for me, for the stories. If you have a bad gig with a band you can commiserate with the other guys in the band. But if I have a bad gig as a writer its all on me. I get a lot more nervous before a spoken word gig than I ever did as a bassist. But having Mark up there on stage with me helps a lot, when it works right the music kind of pushes me. I kind of like it when the music is a bit on the loud side, it forces me to speak up. But some people think the music takes away from the stories but I don't agree.
The gigs I've done with the Frames have been fun too. It's kinda cool to front a band sometimes. Even before I started doing the readings I sang with the Frames a couple of times. One time we did Shalom Absalom at Mercury Lounge where we had 3 bassists; Joe Doyle played guitar and Colm on violin.
FCR: Your connection with Ireland seems to be a special one. Can you tell us a bit about that and what performing over there is like vs. performing for an American audience?
DD: I first met the Frames in New York in 1994. I had just opened the restaurant and an old friend of mine, Frank Murray, called me and told me he would be in town with a band he was managing. So I went down and really liked the band. Then the next year, I get call and I'm told about a band called the Mary Janes. I went to see them at the Fez and liked them a lot also. I stayed in touch with Mic Christopher by mail; I don't think Mic had email yet. Mic told me, if I ever wanted to visit Dublin I could stay with him. I finally got there in 1999.
When I started writing I started exchanging emails with Glen [from the Frames] and sending him the stories. Through Glen and Mic I met a lot of other musicians, Kila, Mundy, Mark Dignam, Nina Hynes, Gemma Hayes, Josh Ritter and later Mark Geary, Michael Brunnock and Brendan O'Shea. Performing over there is great. The Irish have a strong oral tradition so story telling is nothing new to them. I don't think I've gotten any negative reactions except for this guy in Listowel that heckled me a bit, but then he heckled Glen too who was headlining the show so it didn't bother me.
It seems if people take the time to listen to me they like it or they leave. I've done more than one show where people are talking to the person next to them when I start and by the second story they are listening intently. But again, I know it's not for everyone.
