First off, settle this for me, bro. Unitard Freddy, or Mustache Freddy?

Unitard.  Only some people can get away with it, but definitely unitard.  Did you know I used to wear one? 

Yes. No. Fuck, I don’t know how to answer.

Um, but I'm not gay.  I think I may be a transvestite of some kind, though.  Y'know, undiagnosed.

Ok. Here’s another important one: what did the 90’s MEAN, anyway?

I heard a young kid debating with himself out loud…not sure what his particular disorder was…about who was the best guitarist who ever lived, Jimi Hendrix, or Kurt Cobain.  The nineties meant that a white kid with stomach problems who couldn't stop complaining about being a zillionaire and knew three chords, spoke for his generation, and some black guy who was a genius that couldn't get the CIA off his back, re-invented ways of playing an instrument that had been around for a thousand years, and basically invented modern studio recording techniques, AND fucked about a million girls, and NEVER complained, AND spent a lot of money on clothes, is now  just remembered as "that black dude from the 60's who's almost as good as Kurt Cobain."  Does that make any sense?  On how many levels does that not make sense?

That makes so much sense that I think you just blew my mind. Your agent lives in Paris. Is this just so you can say “My agent lives in Paris”?

UNW are no strangers to international intrigue, so we have to keep "them" guessing at all times.  As far as the authorities are concerned, our agent was killed in a motorcycle accident outside Vegas in 1996. But really, he works from a phone booth and a PO box in Peoria, Illinois, and we say he's out of Paris, because well, it sounds cooler. Don’t tell anybody.

What sort of celebration do you have when your latest single climbs to number 100 on the charts? (“Their Heads Exploded”, 1990) I imagine it’s different than if you hit number 1?

If you're single hits number one, people come out of the woodwork falling all over themselves to claim they discovered you, or they "just knew you were gonna do it" and then they throw you a massive party that's jammed with cold champagne and hot women, but when your single is busting number 100, you can't get anyone at the record company on the phone, and it's startin' to look like the dayjob is a lot more likely than a blowjob.   Does that surprise anyone?

You promise us “glam rock without the bubbles and clowns”. So what will be left, Andrew ? And where will that leave the Darkness?

Well, I don't want to speak too soon, but hasn't the Darkness been left already?And as far as bubbles and clowns are concerned, glamour is guiltless, well dressed decadence.  glamour is shameless, but not foolish.  glamour is imagination, not  useless illusion. Glamour is a way of living which appreciates MANY sophisticated and unusual tastes, not just, "Aren't we glamorous cuz we can have chocolate cake whenever we  WANT!" 

Under Neath What was a great drug band, cuz we did a ton of drugs, and we were subversive, because we openly flew in the face of everything that was fucked up. The lying, the graft, the hypocrisy.  We made an art out of being ourselves, in a society where they stop telling you to be yourself when you're  about four, and hope you forget and set about becoming a good little consumer with nothing to say, nothing to do, nothing to dream about, and no where to go. Except Wal-mart.  I’ve been clean from drugs for a while now, ‘cuz they were killing me.  Which is what those assholes wanted. But I didn't die, and I still feel the same way.  So THAT'S what's back.  My dream.  My vision.  My aspiration.  My ambition.  And that is namely to piss off anyone who actually mourned Ronald Reagan’s death.  And make a couple of million dollars in the process, of course.

Now that yr getting the band back together, do you plan on just taking all the old UNW groupies back? I suspect they’re a pretty MILF-y now. Unless you have some sort of plan to entrance their daughters?

Well, two factors are working here. Back in the day, we had a lot of OTHER  things on our mind than groupies.  Like, y'know...  and there's a reason that you don't see  ads on TV like "Is your libido slow?  try MORPHINE! Mix it with COCAINE, for some really interesting evenings!"  Well, it might make for an interesting evening, but  NOT "plaster caster" interesting. That’s not  to say that we didn't have our moments, and when we did, we did it right. Now, things are a little different.  VIAGRA not required.  In fact, that's the cure for erectile dysfunction. Stay on heroin for 10 or 15 years, and then stop.  You'll never need viagra, take my word for it.  and tying things in with defining glam, or glamorous...it would be VERY GLAMOROUS IN MY BOOK, if one of our older concubines (an attractive one, and there ARE some) were to introduce her 17 year old daughter to us in the most supportive and "rite of passage" sort of way.  I can see it now-- lots of velvet.  innocent looks and nubile round flesh, melding with the sinews of a wiry, lithe, experienced but wise and thoughtful survivor such as myself... and the rest would not so much be history, as just another day in the life, baby.

Right on. Getting back to the ol’ rock n’ roll, you realize that if you re-do your caustic hit “Firebomb Telecom” during this administration, you’re going to end up on the FBI watchlist. Does this trouble you? Or do you already have an escape route planned out?

Yeah, we'll re-do Firebomb and get on the FBI watchlist. That’s a whole lot more authentic of a statement than the cover of Rolling fuckin’ Stone. Then if things get too hot, we'll move to, uh, “Paris”. Get it? 

I got it. Under Neath What are working, right now, on songs that will have a direct effect on your crotch by summer. They have recently hijacked www.thingmusic.com. You can trip on their really weird shit there.