Doll that you can't leave behind

For a man who spent the ‘70s trying to drink/smoke/snort/inject himself into an early grave, David Johansen is in remarkably good nick.

“I think it’s fair to say that my life expectancy now is far greater than it was then,” the New York Dolls lead singer cackles. “What can I say? They were decadent days, which didn’t seem that decadent at the time because everybody in New York was behaving that way.”
Oh my god, a whole city full of Pete Dohertys!
“That’s the English kid, right? A rude but very effective wake-up call is when people around you start dying. Choices present themselves and hopefully you take the right ones.”
Although “certainly not vice free”, Johansen gave his act a thorough spring-clean after Dolls bandmates Billy Murcia (1972, drug and drink-related suffocation) and Johnny Thunders (1991, OD) completed their live fast, die young mission.
“Brain cells were lost, but thankfully no limbs or vital organs,” he laughs before admitting that sections of the ‘70s are a bit of a blur.
“Sylvain (Sylvain, guitar) on the other hand has total recall,” he resumes. “We can be in Denver or something and he’ll say, ‘Remember the last time we were here together? The sheriff broke down the door and pinned you to the floor while the deputies pulled the place apart.’ And I’ll be like, ‘Er, no, can’t say I do!’”
Following the Dolls’ disintegration in 1977, Johansen variously fronted his own eponymous group; adopted the louche lounge lizard persona of Buster Pointdexter; appeared as part of the Saturday Night Live house band; cameod in films like Scrooged; and paid tribute to his American folk heroes with The Harry Smiths.
Reliving his lipstick ‘n’ mascara days wasn’t on the agenda until über-Dolls devotee Morrissey begged them to reform for the posh London festival he was curating.
“I’d eaten peas or something with him before at the request of a record company guy called Danny Goldberg who thought me being there would persuade Morrissey to sign to his label,” Johnansen reveals. “I found him delightful, but he did have a lot of questions about arcane ephemera!”
Has he been that star-struck himself?
“I was taken backstage at Radio City to meet Muddy Waters. He was sitting in this big throne-like chair drinking champagne – he used to tell the promoter it was his birthday to get a bottle – and said to me, ‘David, you look like you was mugged by a monkey!’ It was kinda like being knighted!
“Getting back to Morrissey – him offering the Dolls a spot at Meltdown coincided with me thinking that it’d be fun to play with the guys again. By the time he got round to mentioning the free food, accommodation and air tickets, I was there!”
What was the expectation going into Meltdown?
“Play a gig, do a bit of shopping and go home again! The touring and making a record part was as big a surprise to me as it probably was to you!”
Surprise gave way to utter astonishment when that record, One Day It Will Please Us To Remember, turned out to be the most spectacular resurrection since Christ decided he’d had enough of lying around in that bloody tomb. Add in guest appearances from Bo Diddley and Michael Stipe, and a top 10 berth in the Hot Press Critics’ Albums of the Year is assured.
“Bo asked, ‘Will there be chicken in the studio?’ We said, ‘Yes’, and that was it, done deal,” Johansen recalls. “The interesting thing about him is that at age 78 he’s still exploring and has all these new gadgets he plugs into. We’ve known Bo since we were kids and he’s still showing off!
“Michael, meanwhile, is a friend of Sylvain’s from when he lived in Georgia. He happened to be in New York when we were recording and dropped by to see how these idiot savants make such magical music. I’m being facetious, but it’s probably close to the truth!”
Given the paucity of experience he’s got up front, Steve Staunton will be delighted to hear that Johansen qualifies for Ireland under the granny rule.
“My mother’s mother was born in Bantry and came over to America in the gold rush,” he chuckles. “I’ve been in Dublin on a couple of occasions – once with The Harry Smiths in that nice music saloon, Whelan’s, and then last summer with the Dolls when we opened for White Stripes in Marlay Park. Nice place, good people.”
You’re not so bad yourself, David!