L.A. Rocks: eleven acts that shatter the cliche that L.A.'s a one-note town

AM: You know, keep them off the streets.

JG: OK. If there is a mission statement when an artist creates an album, what was yours with this project?

AM: I guess what became an objective was to have a record that had a consistent mood from beginning to end. And also to have a more old-fashioned, long-playing album, rather than just a couple of singles and some other stuff thrown on. I paid a lot of attention to the sequence of the record and the choice of the songs because I wanted them all to fit together. That was also an objective with the packaging: I wanted an artist who had the same kind of feeling in his artwork as I felt the music did, and I wanted to have a really nice package that harkens back to the golden age of LPs, which I grew up with in the '70s.

JG: Emotionally, what would you say the feeling is upon listening to the album?

AM: Well, there are a couple of songs that seem to be specifically about compulsive or addictive behavior. And then there are offshoots, like disassociation and isolation and people feeling separated from each other and from parts of themselves. I have to admit, some of it's pretty dark, which isn't for everyone.

JG: But you make the darkness catchy.

AM: I try. [laughs] They are songs, after all.

JG: As you say, it deals with addictive behavior--are you coming from a first-person narrative or are you telling the stories of others you are empathizing with?

AM: I think both. I haven't had a drug problem, but I definitely have firsthand experience with compulsive behavior and feelings. I use the word "drugs" in the songs a lot, because it's a shorthand and people seem to understand how drugs can be addictive.

JG: When you tour, do you support different albums with different moods?

AM: No, playing live is different, because you're so focused on practical things. And in general, especially onstage, I'm fairly lighthearted. The songs are written about darker things, but they're written about darker things because, to me, they're more interesting to write about. I just don't need to explore the lighter moods.

JG: Well, that's a reason Britney and J.Lo and the Backstreet Boys have shows which are bursting with smoke, minors, dancers and noise--so you don't take a moment to go, "Boy, this sucks. These lyrics are not complex and challenging. This is not an artist onstage." They dangle car keys in front of you, as if you're a baby. And I'm going to borrow a phrase from J. Krishnamurti, who said something like, "Where there is an absence of creativity, there is an undue emphasis on sexuality."

AM: Wow. It's kind of like filmmakers who use tricks to get your heart rate going, overstimulating you, so that when you walk out of the theatre you feel like something really happened.

JG: Yeah. But why don't these pop stars live in constant fear of a Milli Vanilli moment? AM: Well, technically they did sing it. They sang it a hundred times [in the studio]. I mean, I've had this experience where I go in and play a simple piano part, and then I'll come back the next day and listen to it and go, "Wow, I'm actually a lot better than I thought," because I can't play piano at all. And, of course, it's been timed up--corrected. So it's very easy to believe. You want to believe.