Brooklyn's Bamboo Kids: bastard child of the Clash and...yeah, just the Clash. The Clash is enough!
(L-R: Chris Orlando, drums; Dwight Weeks, guitar & vocals; Vince Cecio, bass & vocals)
Who are you wearing?
The only thing I'm wearing with a name on it is my Calvin undies. But, my kids' names are carved into my chest. Does that count?
Best band - The Real Kids, The Rich Kids, The Collins Kids, The Kids, or The Bamboo Kids?
Those kids are alright. But seriously, we're way better. And by 'better', I mean better.
Will you ever grow up?
If by 'grow up' you mean turn off Ian Hunter's 'Irene Wilde' because my kid can't wait two f-ing minutes to go to the ER to get some stitches, then no.
How would The Bamboo Kids go over in Vietnam?
I think we'd kill.
Best way to kill time during long van rides on tour?
Trying to figure out exactly what Chris ate in the last 24 hours from the fragrance notes in his burps. Or putting on headphones, pulling your jacket over your head and pretending that the van is private jet and there's more than 14 people in the world that give a fuck about your band.
Worst show you've ever played?
For me it was a show with the Naked Heroes in Williamsburg several years ago. We weren't playing very much at all then. I was so terrible. I couldn't remember the tunes and couldn't play guitar worth a shit. Our live show was gone. I realized right in the middle of it, that I had let the only thing I had ever truly been proud of in my life turn to shit. I was so ashamed of myself that I walked directly from the stage to a cab, climbed in the back and cried. Good times.
Best part of being on Drug Front Records?
Waking up in the morning with Dean Rispler spooning me.
What food(s) should you never eat on the road?
In St. Louis there's a thing called the Slinger at a place called the Butter Pot or some such thing. It's basically a platter with a huge farmer's breakfast on it, but the entire platter is submerged in chili. I mean totally submerged, until you can't see anything but chili. The nightmares I had that night have stuck with me for years. I can remember every frame of that horror show. Oh, and there's a place in East Germany called Peter's Across The Street from the Underground (again, or something) where the owner makes you drink a shot of his homemade garlic aquavit. It will pollute your senses for days. The whole world becomes a fetid, reeking, bitter garlic landfill. Nice guy, though. [Drummer Chris Orlando: "The place D is referring to in Germany is called Subway to Peter. It's in Chemnitz."]
Best Springsteen song?
Lately, I've been a big Backstreets guy. But it's hard. I'm a longtime fan. 4th of July in Asbury Park? Sherry Darling? My super goofball friend goes to the same gym as him. She sees him on the treadmill, but doesn't make Born To Run jokes. That kind of respect, you can only get after 40 years of beautiful, honest rock and roll.
Best president in US history?
I knew a goat named President once. He ate a whole can of red paint and never blinked. Abe Lincoln can't touch that shit.
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