Jesus Jones

in words and thoughts.

by Tim Dutcher.

On Friday, November 30, 2001, I saw Berlin Wall rock group Jesus Jones play in the Old Gym at Bard College, Annandale-on-Hudson, NY. After the show, I had the rare privilege of interviewing three of the original members of the band. What follows is a transcript of each interview resting gently beside the stream of each band member’s consciousness.

Jerry deBorg, guitarist, returns to the stage to pack up his cords and pedals and to give everything a “once over”.
Tim: (approaching stage with hesitation) Umm-excuse me. Were you one of the people who recorded on this? (holds out cassette single of Right Here Right Now)
Jerry: Oh yeah (takes tape). Yep. There I am with my hair covering my face. And there’s Mike, and there’s Alan, our bassist. This guy here is our keyboardist, but he had to stay at home because he’s a radio DJ now.
Tim: So the drummer is the only new guy?
Jerry: Right now, yes.
Tim: Do you think you could sign this tape?
Jerry: Sure, sure. (signs tape)
Tim: (while he signs) So, I’m sorry that the kids around here don’t know the difference between you and EMF.
Jerry: (earnestly) Oh no, its no big deal.
Tim: But I mean, they even tried to request Unbelievable.
Jerry: Actually, the blokes in EMF are our good mates. Yeah, they’re great mates of ours. James, the lead singer of EMF has actually been playing keyboards for us, but he couldn’t make it tonight.
Tim: (amazed, stifling delirious excitement) Wow! So you guys are friends? That’s great, because I have this tape with one side Jesus Jones and the other side EMF.
Jerry: (more animated) Yeah? You know James just told me about that the other week. I never even knew about it until then. I’d like to see that.
Tim: Man, I’m surprised no one would tell you about that. I can send you a copy if you want.
Jerry: (smiles) No, no, that’s ok. I think James has it. I don’t know why they never told me about it. Oh well. (begins to pack up some cords)
Tim: My friend actually saw EMF this summer in London.
Jerry: (not so interested) Really?
Tim: Yeah, it was at the gay pride festival or something.
Jerry: Oh yeah, I think I remember that. Well, I have to get all this stuff together, so...
Tim: Oh, yeah - of course - do you think James will sign this?
Jerry: I dunno, he might
Tim: Cheers, thanks. Jerry’s stream: I am a very serious musician. All these damn children everywhere.
1 2 3 4...do I have them all? Where’s the Maniac?
It’s a living. I wonder what mum would say, all these pissed kids smoking their fags. They don’t give a damn. They just don’t give those rotten little...here comes one now.
Hoh! What’s this? Fuckin rub it in why don’t you?
I liked my hair that way. Cynthia always complained. God, I miss her. That blowjob in Cairo (shivers)... Too bad Iain ain’t with us. The new kid with his headphones making us look ridiculous. Who ever heard of wearing headphones on stage? Which reminds me, I better give this heart rate monitor back to Mike. Where do you go to get some decent sweets around here? They don’t even have Mars bars.
I love music
I really just need to get the job done here. This is my job. I am employed in the music business.
Sign, sighing, Siam, Simon...I miss him. Off teaching or something.
I wish I had money to buy a palace in the sky. 14 divided by two.
This boy...he is starting to win my heart.
He knows! He knows the truth!
This is a truly human moment. This is compassion. I must learn not to accept this. I cannot let myself sink too deeply. A soft couch. A comfortable rest. My heart is crying. This show...I mustn’t let the tears run.
Will you ever relent? EMF something about that name never really worked. The arguments James and I would have. I wonder if I will ever find true love out on the road. I am a serious musician. I don’t have time for that same idealism. Just my axe and my pedals get me through. Lady England, I love you.
What the fuck is Mike’s problem? A Princess Di tribute would have brought us more sales. This whole American terrorist thing, why, it’s the new Berlin Wall.
And Ted or Alan will start crying their eyes out, all pissed. I just need a good night’s rest at this point.
Where’s the damn money from that tape? What the fuck is George doing? Why are we still working with that guy? He sells our rights, fucking “Right Here” car commercials. This is not what the music is about. Music is my salvation. I just need to get on stage and get that axe in my hands.
Please stop tormenting me. Please. Please. Pretty Please?
How do I make it stop? I’ve got this work to do?
James is miles away. James is far away. I would like to run. I would like to run.
I did appreciate this exchange.
You are a noble human being.

Alan Doughty, bassist sits outside drinking a beer with Jerry deBorg, guitarist. The night is cold, but refreshing after the hot, smoky atmosphere of the Old Gym.
Tim: Scuse me? Scuse me? (Alan looks up) would you mind signing this?
Alan: Oh, sure thing.
Tim: You guys did a great job tonight.
Alan: Sorry, but I think your pen has run out of ink.
Tim (fumbling for another pen): oh, oh, sorry. I have another one here somewhere. (hands over new pen)
Alan: cheers (signs tape) I’m glad you liked the show (hands tape back) cheers
Tim: Thanks. Alan Doughty stream: Man, it sure feels good to unwind after a show. Unwind with this Keystone brand beer.
I wonder if I will get another tattoo.
Ha! Look what this bloke wants me to sign! Those were the days. The booze, the birds.
Life is as fair as it will ever be.
I seem to be having difficulty with this pen. In school, the headmaster hit me. The dead rotter. We don’t need no, education. Knead know. Like little squirrels, really. Little fidgety hands and all.
This could be the contract. Fucking agents. Man, I need a break. I gotta get back to that hotel and just unwind. A few more beers, maybe they have a hottub or sauna. Not like the good days. Not at all.

Mike Edwards, lead singer, exits his “backstage dressing room”, actually a small, windowless cramped room in the back of the gym. The walls are covered in peeling white paint.
Tim: Scuse me, James? Scuse me?
Mike: (noticing me) oh, yes?
Tim: Do you think you could sign this for me? (holds out tape)
Mike: Oh, sure. (deeply apologetic) Sorry, I knew you wanted me to sign this. I saw you gesticulating from the crowd. Sorry I didn’t sign it right after the show.
Tim: Oh no, its no problem really. I really enjoyed the show tonight.
Mike: Thanks (hands back tape.)
Tim: (looking down) sorry that the crowd didn’t really know the difference between you and EMF.
Mike: No, it’s all right. I was actually surprised they knew some of our songs so well.
Tim: (making eye contact) You know, its interesting. I’m a 5th year senior here, so I’m only 4 years older than some of these kids. But its amazing really, despite this small gap of 4 years, the way I think about the Berlin wall and the way a freshman thinks about it are totally different...
Mike: (enthusiastically) Yeah! Yeah! I know!
Tim: It’s almost like they don’t really remember it.
(At this point, Mike is interrupted by someone, maybe the lead singer of the Blue Mockingbirds. I hang around for a few moments, then give Mike’s arm a gentle squeeze.)
Tim: Thanks James -- Good job tonight. Mike: (looks over) Oh yeah. Thanks. Mike’s stream:
All this irony. It wasn’t like this back then. It’s like the Wall, man. The Wall. When it crumbled, that was when sincerity was standing up. It was so strong back then. We could believe in something. The Wall was shattering, Europe was uniting. But it was like some ripple, some echo. The Wall fell and the first eyes to peer over the rubble were bright and honest. But it didn’t take long. It didn’t take long and then that sincerity turned away. And from the rubble, all this irony. The Wall fell. That was our moment. That was when I could write music that mattered. Songs that no one snickered at. How do you take that moment lightly? These children, these babies, know nothing. They don’t understand the power, the emotion, of a city reunited. The concrete dust. Their towers have fallen. But it is not like the Wall. The Berlin Wall has fallen. How bittersweet, our fame as fleeting as the memory of the Wall.
The Wall. What did it really symbolize?
This is another decade. More dust, more dust. Choking on the dust of the Berlin Wall. It came down!
We built it, we destroyed it. These children will be destroyed. Their bodies will fail and crumble. And they will understand what it meant. One day they will see that the Berlin Wall is the defining moment in history. The Berlin Wall can teach us all we need about being human. Human Being. Can I make music about the towers? They are not the Wall. They teach something different.
Them Berlin Wall has fallen.
I am glad that in my lifetime, the Wall fell. I am glad that I was there.
The Wall was my calling. The Berlin Wall.
The Berlin Wall, I love you.
(a fleeting moment of near-Zen pure consciousness)
Did he just call me James?

Editor's Note: This scene, this show, seems to have been at some cultural crossroads, hurling uncomfortably together the competing sensibilities of the 90s and the 2000s. As such it is uncommonly well-documented on the Internet, a medium shared by these, the first two generations to fully understand and approach it. We encourage you to read an account by a freshman girl in the audience, and one in Mike's tour diary.

back

Jerry deBorg, guitarist, returns to the stage to pack up his cords and pedals and to give everything a “once over”. Tim: (approaching stage with hesitation) Umm-excuse me. Were you one of the people who recorded on this? (holds out cassette single of Right Here Right Now) Jerry: Oh yeah (takes tape). Yep. There I am with my hair covering my face. And there’s Mike, and there’s Alan, our bassist. This guy here is our keyboardist, but he had to stay at home because he’s a radio DJ now. Tim: So the drummer is the only new guy? Jerry: Right now, yes. Tim: Do you think you could sign this tape? Jerry: Sure, sure. (signs tape) Tim: (while he signs) So, I’m sorry that the kids around here don’t know the difference between you and EMF. Jerry: (earnestly) Oh no, its no big deal. Tim: But I mean, they even tried to request Unbelievable. Jerry: Actually, the blokes in EMF are our good mates. Yeah, they’re great mates of ours. James, the lead singer of EMF has actually been playing keyboards for us, but he couldn’t make it tonight. Tim: (amazed, stifling delirious excitement) Wow! So you guys are friends? That’s great, because I have this tape with one side Jesus Jones and the other side EMF. Jerry: (more animated) Yeah? You know James just told me about that the other week. I never even knew about it until then. I’d like to see that. Tim: Man, I’m surprised no one would tell you about that. I can send you a copy if you want. Jerry: (smiles) No, no, that’s ok. I think James has it. I don’t know why they never told me about it. Oh well. (begins to pack up some cords) Tim: My friend actually saw EMF this summer in London. Jerry: (not so interested) Really? Tim: Yeah, it was at the gay pride festival or something. Jerry: Oh yeah, I think I remember that. Well, I have to get all this stuff together, so... Tim: Oh, yeah - of course - do you think James will sign this? Jerry: I dunno, he might Tim: Cheers, thanks.	Jerry’s stream: I am a very serious musician. All these damn children everywhere. 1 2 3 4...do I have them all? Where’s the Maniac? It’s a living. I wonder what mum would say, all these pissed kids smoking their fags. They don’t give a damn. They just don’t give those rotten little...here comes one now. Hoh! What’s this? Fuckin rub it in why don’t you? I liked my hair that way. Cynthia always complained. God, I miss her. That blowjob in Cairo (shivers)... Too bad Iain ain’t with us. The new kid with his headphones making us look ridiculous. Who ever heard of wearing headphones on stage? Which reminds me, I better give this heart rate monitor back to Mike. Where do you go to get some decent sweets around here? They don’t even have Mars bars. I love music I really just need to get the job done here. This is my job. I am employed in the music business. Sign, sighing, Siam, Simon...I miss him. Off teaching or something. I wish I had money to buy a palace in the sky. 14 divided by two. This boy...he is starting to win my heart. He knows! He knows the truth! This is a truly human moment. This is compassion. I must learn not to accept this. I cannot let myself sink too deeply. A soft couch. A comfortable rest. My heart is crying. This show...I mustn’t let the tears run. Will you ever relent? EMF something about that name never really worked. The arguments James and I would have. I wonder if I will ever find true love out on the road. I am a serious musician. I don’t have time for that same idealism. Just my axe and my pedals get me through. Lady England, I love you. What the fuck is Mike’s problem? A Princess Di tribute would have brought us more sales. This whole American terrorist thing, why, it’s the new Berlin Wall. And Ted or Alan will start crying their eyes out, all pissed. I just need a good night’s rest at this point. Where’s the damn money from that tape? What the fuck is George doing? Why are we still working with that guy? He sells our rights, fucking “Right Here” car commercials. This is not what the music is about. Music is my salvation. I just need to get on stage and get that axe in my hands. Please stop tormenting me. Please. Please. Pretty Please? How do I make it stop? I’ve got this work to do? James is miles away. James is far away. I would like to run. I would like to run. I did appreciate this exchange. You are a noble human being.
Alan Doughty, bassist sits outside drinking a beer with Jerry deBorg, guitarist. The night is cold, but refreshing after the hot, smoky atmosphere of the Old Gym. Tim: Scuse me? Scuse me? (Alan looks up) would you mind signing this? Alan: Oh, sure thing. Tim: You guys did a great job tonight. Alan: Sorry, but I think your pen has run out of ink. Tim (fumbling for another pen): oh, oh, sorry. I have another one here somewhere. (hands over new pen) Alan: cheers (signs tape) I’m glad you liked the show (hands tape back) cheers Tim: Thanks.	Alan Doughty stream: Man, it sure feels good to unwind after a show. Unwind with this Keystone brand beer. I wonder if I will get another tattoo. Ha! Look what this bloke wants me to sign! Those were the days. The booze, the birds. Life is as fair as it will ever be. I seem to be having difficulty with this pen. In school, the headmaster hit me. The dead rotter. We don’t need no, education. Knead know. Like little squirrels, really. Little fidgety hands and all. This could be the contract. Fucking agents. Man, I need a break. I gotta get back to that hotel and just unwind. A few more beers, maybe they have a hottub or sauna. Not like the good days. Not at all.
Mike Edwards, lead singer, exits his “backstage dressing room”, actually a small, windowless cramped room in the back of the gym. The walls are covered in peeling white paint. Tim: Scuse me, James? Scuse me? Mike: (noticing me) oh, yes? Tim: Do you think you could sign this for me? (holds out tape) Mike: Oh, sure. (deeply apologetic) Sorry, I knew you wanted me to sign this. I saw you gesticulating from the crowd. Sorry I didn’t sign it right after the show. Tim: Oh no, its no problem really. I really enjoyed the show tonight. Mike: Thanks (hands back tape.) Tim: (looking down) sorry that the crowd didn’t really know the difference between you and EMF. Mike: No, it’s all right. I was actually surprised they knew some of our songs so well. Tim: (making eye contact) You know, its interesting. I’m a 5th year senior here, so I’m only 4 years older than some of these kids. But its amazing really, despite this small gap of 4 years, the way I think about the Berlin wall and the way a freshman thinks about it are totally different... Mike: (enthusiastically) Yeah! Yeah! I know! Tim: It’s almost like they don’t really remember it. (At this point, Mike is interrupted by someone, maybe the lead singer of the Blue Mockingbirds. I hang around for a few moments, then give Mike’s arm a gentle squeeze.) Tim: Thanks James -- Good job tonight. Mike: (looks over) Oh yeah. Thanks.	Mike’s stream: All this irony. It wasn’t like this back then. It’s like the Wall, man. The Wall. When it crumbled, that was when sincerity was standing up. It was so strong back then. We could believe in something. The Wall was shattering, Europe was uniting. But it was like some ripple, some echo. The Wall fell and the first eyes to peer over the rubble were bright and honest. But it didn’t take long. It didn’t take long and then that sincerity turned away. And from the rubble, all this irony. The Wall fell. That was our moment. That was when I could write music that mattered. Songs that no one snickered at. How do you take that moment lightly? These children, these babies, know nothing. They don’t understand the power, the emotion, of a city reunited. The concrete dust. Their towers have fallen. But it is not like the Wall. The Berlin Wall has fallen. How bittersweet, our fame as fleeting as the memory of the Wall. The Wall. What did it really symbolize? This is another decade. More dust, more dust. Choking on the dust of the Berlin Wall. It came down! We built it, we destroyed it. These children will be destroyed. Their bodies will fail and crumble. And they will understand what it meant. One day they will see that the Berlin Wall is the defining moment in history. The Berlin Wall can teach us all we need about being human. Human Being. Can I make music about the towers? They are not the Wall. They teach something different. Them Berlin Wall has fallen. I am glad that in my lifetime, the Wall fell. I am glad that I was there. The Wall was my calling. The Berlin Wall. The Berlin Wall, I love you. (a fleeting moment of near-Zen pure consciousness) Did he just call me James?