Chan Marshall: What if the sound guy turns the vocals so loud it hurts your ears to whisper?
Charles Bukowski: Well, it’s a quiet place, and nobody bothers you.
Marshall: You’ve lost all these brain cells and muscle memory.
Bukowski: But I’ll get out of it because I’ll kick off and I will be out.
Marshall: It’s such a mind-fuck.
Bukowski: I have faith in Ferreri because he is a totally human person, he is warm.
Marshall: I live near the Everglades and he caught a gecko five days ago, and we put little holes in Saran Wrap and wrapped it with a rubber band around a glass.
Bukowski: One thing led to another.
Marshall: Yeah. It just disintegrates.
Bukowski: When I went back to Europe I felt it, maybe it was only my imagination.
Marshall: That’s what happens—your subconscious basically takes over—just like dreaming.
Bukowski: We don’t even know why we are doing it, if we did we couldn’t do it.
Marshall: Totally narrative, like a tribal, apocalyptic kind of thing.
Bukowski: Here in America, we are still flashy, we are blunt, we don’t quite know where the hell we are.
Marshall: Because of analysis and Freud and Jung, and the psychiatric society they created as the identity of psychiatry.