"I Don't Want to Do This Anymore"

Answering Jason Singer's question about feeling defeated and wanting to switch lanes

I’m a big of Jason Singer as a human being. I’m a big fan of Jason’s music, which he performs under the name Michigander. And I’ve recently become a big fan of Jason’s podcast, Breaker Box, which features Jason having casual conversations with his music - and music-adjacent - buddies. After one episode - and this applies to all of them - I posted on Threads that I wish I lived next door to Jason in Nashville so that we could have a daily cup of coffee on his front porch and have an insightful conversation.

Many, many years ago, I had a website called Atomic Ned (I still own the URL but have posted maybe 10 times in the last 5 or so years) and when I did interviews, I’d often close with a final, unrelated to the rest of the interview, question. I’m going to bring that back in 2025 - stay tuned as I’ve got something to promote the next time I write one of these. I bring this up because Jason always ends his conversations with two questions, one of which is:

“Has there ever been a moment in the journey where you’re like, ‘I don’t want to do this anymore’? Have you ever felt defeated and wanted to switch lane?”

This always makes me think back to the early days of the pandemic and the answer I’d give, if I were ever lucky enough to be a guest on the Breaker Box podcast (spoiler: even if I’m never on Jason’s podcast, I’ll be interviewing him soon so there’s a chance he’ll be a guest on MY podcast).

Here’s my answer:

As the world shut down in 2020, and my family tried to navigate at-home work and at-home schooling, and where are particular designated work spaces would be, I wound up in the windowless basement. I do feel lucky that I had a place all to myself but, frankly, after a few months, it became depressing not having any sort of natural light or connection to the outside world for a majority of my day. I won’t get too deep on how it led to a downward spiral where I strongly contemplated quitting my job or how I felt like a prisoner in my own home, but even the things that gave me some joy, like interviewing bands, all but ceased as the music world tried to figure things out. For many artists, the idea of releasing an album that people couldn’t go easily to a store to buy or that they couldn’t tour on to promote was something they had to grapple with and decide what to do. And if artists aren’t releasing new music or going on tour, the opportunities to do interviews in 2020 dried up.

I’ve been interviewing bands since 1991 and given all the different things that had gone on in my life leading up to 2020, I thought maybe it was time to hang it up and “retire”. I’ve rarely ever been paid to write about music and I don’t have a “brand” in the real world so giving up on interviewing artists wouldn’t cause shockwaves and, honestly, not sure anybody would have even noticed. I had all but made my mind up when I got a press release about a new Thelonious Monster album. Oh That Monster, the first in 16 years (and that 2004 release had been the first since 1992’s Beautiful Mess).

I interviewed Bob Forrest in early 1993, while he was promoting Beautiful Mess. Thelonious Monster had an upcoming tour date at Stache’s in Columbus so we did the interview to promote that show. Around the time of the interview, Bob had gotten himself in a bit of hot water due to his drug addiction. Just prior to us speaking, he had botched the words to the National Anthem at the Los Angeles Clippers game which led to fans booing him. throwing stuff at him and even threatening to beat him up or worse.

Here’s a little clip from that interview which you should check out on ChipMidnight.com because I offer the “story behind the story” which involves me doing a lot of pre-gaming before the show and being invited on stage:

You would think that being asked to sing the National Anthem at a L.A. Clippers basketball game would be an honor. You would think that if you were to receive such an honor, you might just brush up on the lyrics to the “Star Spangled Banner” so you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself. Well, you’re obviously not Bob Forrest, lead singer for Thelonious Monster.

“I forgot the words,” Forrest said from an undisclosed location deep in the bowels of Los Angeles, “I was laughing and the people thought I was being unpatriotic. They beat me up in the hallway when I was leaving.”

Forgetting the words to the sacred American hymn probably won’t win the band any fans, but Forrest readily admits that he took the gig, “cuz I wanted to meet the Clippers.”

In October, Thelonious Monster released their Capitol Records debut, Beautiful Mess, filled with punk-influenced urban folk rock, a trademark of their tumultuous eight-year history that has included drug addiction, arrests, deaths, label changes, marriages, breakups, and even a visit from the Secret Service.

According to Forrest, who relates the story with a snicker, Thelonious Monster was performing at the 9:30 Club in Washington D.C. when he got a little carried away with his “ideas and opinions. It was really just a joke and the Secret Service knows it’s just a joke, but some people in the audience didn’t perceive it as a joke.” Rolling Stone reported that someone in the crowd claimed that Forrest said, “Instead of reelecting President Bush, we should murder him”

While this had not been the plan for retiring, the opportunity dropped itself in my lap. I would put a bow on my interviewing career by making Bob Forrest my last interview, some 27 years after the first time I talked to him. I was at peace with that decision. Perhaps I’d find a new hobby to bring me joy.

During the pandemic, I was on multiple video conference calls every single day and, in fact, my day job was heavily dependent on video calls and yet when setting up the interview via Zoom, I had reservations. For nearly 30 years, I had done a mix of phone and in-person interviews but I had never done a video interview. As I clicked the “Join Meeting” button, my heart was pounding, my palms were sweaty. This could be an absolute train wreck I was thinking as Zoom connected me with Bob.

Again, having never done a video interview, I wasn’t sure if the “interview” protocols that I had followed when doing phoners was intact. Do I have 30 minutes? 60 minutes? Will the end feel natural or will it feel forced? Will there be awkwardness as I go to click the “Leave Meeting” button while we’re both looking at each other?

Bob and I wound up on this call for nearly 2 hours. Bob has been sober for a long, long time - you may recognize him from Dr. Drew’s Celebrity Rehab where he counseled celebrities on their journeys to sobriety - and was just a fantastic person to have a conversation with. The interview was so lengthy that I published it on the Big Takeover website in two parts (Part 1, Part 2).

And, while I was literally one final interview away from retiring, this conversation re-invigorated me and actually accomplished the exact opposite of what I thought it was going to do. Instead of hanging it up and just becoming a music listener, I went full steam ahead. In 2021, I did more interviews in a year than I had done in easily the last 5, if not 10, years prior. In 2022, I did even more. The pace in 2023 and 2024 kept up and looks like 2025 will be another busy, busy year.

So, to answer the question Jason asks of all his guests on the Breaker Box podcast, “Yes, there has been a time where I felt like I didn’t want to do this anymore,” but now I’m glad that I didn’t listen to that internal voice - and I’m glad that Bob Forrest made a conversation so easy that I craved more.

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After a string of EPs, Michigander’s debut self-titled full length is out on February 7th. I’ve had a chance to hear the album and it’s going to be a Top 5 on my “Favorites of 2025” list. Here’s a single from the album.