INTERVIEW: The Bedroom Philosopher

Bedrooms seem to be a great place to philosophise, whether it be post-coital pillow talk, post-snooze-button dreamings, pre-slumber thoughts or, ahem, during wanking. Comedian-cum-musician The Bedroom Philosopher (aka Justin Heazlewood) seems to agree, but goes one step further by bringing his personal rants, thoughts and opinions in musical form to stages all around Australia.

From Tasmania via Sydney, the now-Melbourne-based artist has been building up his indie street cred slowly but surely over the past few years [ignore what he says at the end of the Northcote (So Hungover) video - he's not running out of street credit]. Performing at shindigs like Big Day Out, Falls Festival, the Melbourne International Comedy Festival and the Adelaide Fringe Festival, Heazlewood has also scored a claim-t0-fame with his video Wow Wow’s Song (La La La) getting 20K hits on YouTube within 5 days and earning an ARIA nomination for Songs From the 86 Tram. The indie-mocking hilarious clip for Northcote (So Hungover) has also just been nominated for the St. Kilda Film Festival.

Heazlewood is back at it again with his latest single Leaving My Hairdresser, an ode to that awkwardness and guilt that everyone has felt when they ditch their old barber for a new one. Paige X. Cho checks in with the inner-city Melbourne, chai-latte drinking performer about life his new home, being a ruffian and embarrassing things.

So where do you get your hair cut, and how much do you pay?

Redroom at the corner of Smith and Gertrude Streets. $50 as per the song lyrics.

You’re somewhere between a comedian, a musician, a writer and a performance artist. What do you write down as your occupation on visas forms?

Captain of entertainment.

Did you start off as a comedian first or a musician first?

I started off as a covers comedian, taking requests in pubs. I’d do all the classics – Vince Serenti, The Amazing Jonathon, Elliot Goblet and whoever was on Hey Hey It’s Saturday at the time. Then I got bottled one night while trying some “original” stuff (“Did you hear about the depressed butcher? He committed silverside.”) so I got out of comedy and went into serious ballads – songs about impotence and eczema with a Nick Drake feel. After being banned from the Grade 10 talent quest for being “too real”, I started piecing the comedy back into my act until I came up with the perfect balance of music and humour that today’s audiences know and tolerate.

It seems that a lot of your lyrics/themes come from real life experiences for your hair dresser, laptops, the number 86 tram… Do you sometimes purposely put yourself into strange situations thinking, “This is comedic gold”? Or is everything chance?

No, it doesn’t work unless it just happens to you. I tried to stage a threesome in Darwin, just so I might be able to write a song about how weird threesomes are, but it never came to fruition. I’m appalling at sealing the deal at the best of times, let alone when faced with the kind of conversational red-tape a ménage à trios entails. I just ended up playing strip poker with some girls drug dealer at the table and swimming in a pool for too many hours.

You relocated from Tasmania to Melbourne (via Sydney I believe). What made you decide to stay here for the time being?

Melbourne has good lattes. I got sick of Tasmania’s mugaccinos. Melbourne also has weather very similar to Tasmania whereas Sydney is too muggy. As in you get mugged a lot. Melbourne can be a bit smuggy though. Alright, we get it, you have a child and you live in Clifton Hill.

What is your favourite suburb in Melbourne to poke fun at?

Thornbury. It’s the new Northcote and the old Preston. I like making fun of St Kilda too. I’m bemused by the St Kilda/Fitzroy rivalry. I liken the Yarra to the Gaza strip, except it’s more like the ‘Lagazza strip’ and everyone is fighting over who makes the best coffee.

Your “FAQ” on the Melbourne International Comedy Festival 2011 website says you are a “world-class ruffian intellectual”. What sort of ruffian acts have you committed recently, besides cheating on your hair dresser?

I used the toilet in the Tankerville without buying anything. I moved away from someone on a tram because they stank of cigarettes. I used an ATM and didn’t cover my pin. I reached into the toaster to turn my toast and burnt my fingers, but then reached in again and turned it again even though you don’t need to turn toast because the element is on both sides but I turned it anyway. I replied to a group email politely telling the sender to use the BCC field instead of TO because it hides the email addresses which makes them less susceptible to spam robots. I picked up my dry cleaning without the ticket. I bought a bunch of bananas at $13 a kilo. I swore at the cat in my apartment block who weed on my front door step.

Most embarrassing moment onstage?

Well, in 2006 my first long-term girlfriend was in the audience and in a fruity mood. She’d had a couple of Vodka Cruisers and didn’t take well to my song I’m So Over Girls. That was full of poetic compliments for ladykind. “That’s not what you said to me,” she yelled. She was kind of joking but kind of not. I’d broken her heart, you see. I said that to be fair maybe she should come up on stage and fight me. The crowd liked this idea and she ran straight on up and tackled me to the ground. I hurt my shoulder quite a lot. I’ve had a few truly strange moments on stage, and when they occur the audience are trying to work out if it’s one big set-up – but it never is.

What are your plans for 2011?

Record and release a new album and watch its light to moderate climb to the lower reaches of the indie stratosphere with mild interest. It’s going to be a “party” album. Ten songs, four to the floor. No flim flam. I’m also working on an erotic cookbook for children.

Watch The Bedroom Philosopher’s newest video for “Tram Inspector”

UPCOMING SHOWS: