New York-based poet, musician, and all-around trouble-maker Joseph Moore, will always be “Riley” to me. I first met him in Gainesville, Florida about three years ago when his band (at the time) St. Dad and my band played a show together. He told me his name was Riley. Everyone called him Riley, so he was Riley. It wasn’t until about two years later, when White Lung played his home town of Cincinnati did the whole Joseph thing emerge. Everyone was calling him Joe. I still call him Riley.
Anyways, St. Dad blew me away and quickly became one of my favorite punk bands that ever existed. They were perfect: fast, simple, wild, and lyrically depressing and romantic. St. Dad had an innocence that punk should always have. They just didn’t care. As Daniel Halal of Vinyl Rites (the Southern label that finally released their LP this year) said, “No poser shit here, just 4 legit weirdos that couldn't even scan their photos in for the layout correctly.” He could not have described them any clearer. I even wrote a song about St. Dad. Those boys just mean something special to me.
Joey Buzz or Riley or really Joseph Moore now lives in New York. He makes music in a band called Space Trash. He writes poems. He tweets and he’s one of those people for whom Twitter was invented. Read his Twitter. Riley’s thoughts just explode and crunch the way Pop Rocks do in your mouth. Anyway, I think the world needs to know my friend, the talented, weird and emotionally gorgeous Joseph Moore, so interviewed him.
So, who is Joey Buzz and what does he do? [Five minutes pass] Hello?
I just kept thinking, “She’s fucking with me.” Then I thought, “I don’t know.” Could we come back to that one?
I would never fuck with you. I love you. What are you doing musically right now?
I play guitar in a band called Space Trash. It’s with Josh, who played in Pretty Wild, Big Soda, and a few other bands. Matty [who played in St. Dad] plays bass.
Tell me about the Joey Buzz songs. Did you play everything on them?
I played everything by myself in a tool shed next to a prairie in Florida. Most of the lyrics are about wasting time, being isolated, being bored, and feeling shitty.
You live in New York now, but do you ever miss Florida?
Not really. Most people I liked in Florida don’t live in Florida anymore. I’m not from Florida.
And Florida seemed depressing. I saw your letter you wrote to Phil Spector on Twitter. Did you write that in Florida? And why did you write it?
Yeah, I wrote that when he went to prison. I think I sent it to his fan club or something. I thought he’d be bored in prison and write back, but I don’t think we ever got the letter.
Did you feel sorry for him or something?
No, I rarely feel sorry for people. I just though it’d be funny.
What about your poetry?
If I do the right drug combos, I write poems. Mostly just detached observations.
Didn’t you do a reading a while ago?
My friend’s have a nook table on the street in Brooklyn. It’s on the corner of Bogart and Seigel. They do good. They have a lot of books now and are usually out there almost every day. They had a 48-hour-long party at the book table. I did a reading during that.
I want to talk about your Twitter feed, because I think your Twitter is the reason Twitter should exist. Like, fuck my Twitter, which is just me posting articles and moaning. Yours is hilarious.
I feel like I started using [Twitter] because Tao Lin “strongly encouraged” me to start one. I like being able to have access to other people’s brains. I like how you can only write short things.
Why do drugs and creativity go together?
I feel like drugs can be a good motivation to creative things, especially if you have no motivation to begin with. I like Adderall and Xanax as the base, feel like adding another drug that is usually good. I prefer to take small amounts of everything available. I feel like DMT is good for writing, especially if you want to write sci-fi. Any amphetamines mixed with any opiates help with music.
How do you survive in New York? How does it compare to the South?
I lived in a pool house in exchange for moving the grass at the property I lived at in Florida. I only work 1-2 days in New York right now. Delivery jobs pay pretty well and have short hours. I deliver booze and food to lazy ass people.
Last question: what is the most perfect song in the world?
I’m currently listening to JT I.V. “Death Trip,” which seems like something that might be perfect. I don’t know. I’m confused about what is perfect. I don’t like that word too much. I like the song you wrote for us [St. Dad]. Thanks for writing it. It seems like a “hit.”
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