Q&A with Tay Zonday

That’s what I was doing when I asked if you consider yourself a sellout. I should’ve just accused you.
Right. And that mode of thinking doesn’t actually reflect critical thought. Its intention is to produce a product that is riveting, that’s kind of oozing with sound bytes and has some risk in it, some risk for the subject.

You got it. That’s a QA.
Well, yeah. I mean, people write whatever they write. I do these interviews with journalists, and I look at the articles and I’m like, “I didn’t actually say this.” And that’s The New York Times. I think there’s definitely a disconnect between what the subject says and what actually gets recorded. Because there’s the need to, you know, posture and form an opinion. And at the end, it’s always like this forecast, this dramatic, “maybe this will happen or maybe that will happen.” And it’s all about creating the commodity of journalism. And I think that is actually where the social justice politic lies, the discussion of, you know, “the sell out” or whatever. These are all media sound bytes—the need for the media to gossip. Whereas me, I’m just an artist. I’m like, “Hey, here’s a fantastic project. And here’s another fantastic project with a lot of collaborators.” And I think that’s great.

Let’s talk about the art. What percentage of your success do you attribute to the William Hung factor?
I don’t really follow William Hung. But the blunt question is, “Do I suck, and do people laugh at me because of it?” I don’t know. How does any artist know that? Why would any artist worry about that? Would you worry about that?

I get criticized for being a racist and a sexist.
But it doesn’t really affect what you do. As long as you know who you are, whatever. Ike Turner just died, and Lord knows he was called this, and this, and this. And stigmatized. Finally he got a little bit of credit towards the end of his life. But you know, he just kept doing what he did. What can you do? All this stuff about you floating around. Look at Paul Reubens. He was having fun in a theater, maybe a little too visibly. I mean, you have to be careful, but there isn’t that much at stake. So hypothesis: I suck, and people like it and laugh at me because they say, “My goodness, that sucks. That sucks so bad I’m going to e-mail it all over. God, you guys, you gotta look at this because it sucks so bad.” I get all sorts of feedback. Most of the feedback I get in personal messages is positive; most of the feedback I get in video comments is negative because I think that’s the nature of video comments. You don’t know—I’m not a sociologist. You look at the video ratings, and it’s rated four-and-a-half stars, but all the comments are full of as much vitriol as you can think of. I think that’s just the nature of the beast of the Internet. And it’s how all of us are, too. You get 15 products, and they work perfectly well, and you don’t think about them. But you buy a rice cooker, and it sucks, and you go to epinions.com, and you post a review. So you must feel motivated to post a review of something you have an issue with, and if you just kind of like it, you’re like, “Hey, I use it.”

I’m a fawner.
Hey, you are bringing a revolutionary politics to journalism. You’re refusing to make it a commodity. It’s all relatively complimentary. And you overcompensate for this in your interviews.

Here’s me overcompensating: Your parents clearly never let you listen to Prince. Do they regret that now?
I don’t know. I think they’re old, and they’re living their own lives. I think once you get into your sixties, you don’t really remember what you did with your kids fifteen years ago. I don’t think there’s any moment where you’re the same person that you were five years ago. So I mean, you can talk about all this stuff that happened in the past, but when you’re talking to everyone who’s involved, they’re such different people now that you can’t narrate that continuity. The media likes us to narrate. Criminologists like us to narrate. I think everyone changes. I change from week to week.

Have you been catching up since adolescence on pop music?
No, I still really don’t listen to a lot of music. I’m not one of those people running around with an iPod stuck on his head. I think I like to be aware of my surroundings, so I just don’t get on a bus listening to an iPod. But there really isn’t a consistent space in my life for listening to music. In fact, when I’m shopping, and I’m hearing the music playing, I’m like, “Man, that’s a great tune.” I almost want to reproduce that experience in my apartment. I want to get the top forty that plays in the Home Depot speakers and play that in my apartment. There’s something about that shopping music that has a good variety of nonsense.

So Tay Zonday was a self-constructed Google wack?
That’s an interesting noun. I haven’t heard of that before. Are you going to add that to urban dictionary?

Oh, that’s firmly established. Google it.
Well, sure, then I guess that’s what it is. I guess so. I don’t think I’ve met anybody that’s familiar with there being a term for that. But yes, it was a deliberate search for something that did not come up on Google. And I chose that name. Literally, I was putting “Ray Bonbay.” Doot de doot de doot de doo. “Tay Zonday.” There you go.

Didn’t Buckwheat say something like that?
You seem to have an affection for pop culture trivia.

Don’t you? Or do you just read Ralph Ellison all day? Do you watch television?
No, I don’t have a TV.

When your voice changed, were you embarrassed by it, I mean, more than the other puberty stuff?
I don’t know. I was seventeen or so.

Was it dramatic?
I don’t know. I was fairly reclusive at the time—I wasn’t getting out a whole lot. I don’t know if it was dramatic. It was what it was. It was me.

You were a seventeen-year-old recluse?
Most definitely.

Not a lot of friends?
No. I didn’t go out. Just doctor’s appointments and school. I sat on the Internet all day playing online video games for like 100 hours a week. Pro Skater 4.