What’s the funniest or weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you in the middle of a show?
Oh, gosh. Okay. I can’t remember where we were, someplace out West — it was an outside gig — but I dropped my guitar on my toe, and it broke my toenail in two. It really hurt, but not until I was about halfway through “Leaving Las Vegas,” when I looked down and realized there was blood everywhere. And the audience, the ones that were close up front, could see that I was just standing in this big pool of blood around us. It ruined a very smart pair of LeMieux platforms. So that wasn’t so funny, but it was definitely one of the oddest things that ever happened.
What are one or two must-have items on the rider?
Used to be, it was clean socks and postcards, but now I guess as adults, we bring our own clean socks. I’m a much gentler version of myself, so two beers is my limit, maybe three, Miller Lights. I’m pretty easy now. That’s all I require. Other than that, we usually have dark chocolate and some nuts and that’s about it.
Obviously, it’s been in the news again lately because there’s been an HBO documentary about it, but can you recall what your experience was like at Woodstock ’99?
It was weird. I mean, having played at Woodstock a few years before, not the original, but the one that was in, I think 1994, that was such a beautiful event and it felt like it paid such beautiful homage to the original one. This was completely the antithesis of that. In fact, I think I saw an interview with me saying something about how it was just a bunch of privileged white kids who were acting out, tearing things up and girls on guys shoulders, topless, trying to get on camera and on MTV. The whole thing was so debauched. People were throwing, not only pennies up on stage at us, but also at our hands. Also, the Johnny on the Spot overflowed, and they were throwing…I’ll say feces. I mean, it just was a vile experience, and it was commerce at its worst, where they were overcharging for bottles of water, wouldn’t let kids bring their own water or food in. It was just a bad, bad event.
To kind of flip on that, do you have any sort of transcendent concert memories? Some moments on stage that really stand out for you?
I mean, I have so many of those, it’s just crazy. I mean, I can remember singing Mozart with Pavarotti in Modena, Italy, and looking out and seeing my parents and my mom and dad both totally tearing up. And Eric Clapton’s in the band, you know? That was a big moment.
Another big moment would have been, even just last year or two years ago, playing at Bonnaroo and looking out and seeing, I don’t know, how many tens of thousands of people singing the words to every song. I think of Bonnaroo is being a really young audience and to see all these young people who have grown up with their parents listening to my music and them knowing every word was just so celebratory for us and kind of mind-blowing. We had a similar experience right after that at Glastonbury in Europe. Those are more recent, but gosh, all the way back to being able to play accordion with Bob Dylan and knowing this doesn’t just happen every day.
Next month is the 25th anniversary of your self-titled album that came out in 1996. You once said, “My only objective on this record was to get into people’s skin because I was feeling I had so much shit to hurl at the tape.” Do you feel like you accomplished that goal?
I do. You know, it’s funny. I had to explain to my boys, who are 14 and 11, when they saw pictures from the artwork, and they’re like, “God, you look so different! You have black makeup on.” It’s funny when you go in and you make a record, even the artwork, if you’re being honest, pretty much depicts or portrays what you’re going through at any given moment. Certainly The Globe Sessions was much more introspective, but that record felt like, “Okay, it’s my turn to go and do what I do and put it out and if people like it, then great. And if they don’t.” I felt like it illustrated who I am and that’s what that record was. It felt like kids in a laboratory just frantically putting it all together and creating something and almost not wanting to put it out for fear that the wolves would just take it and devour it. And it wound up obviously doing really well, which was great. But what was more gratifying was the fact that I did it. I went in, no producer and made a record I loved.