Give Henry Rollins a top hat and he'd be the MC presiding over his own, individual three-ring circus. On the left, there's the up-and-coming actor who has had bit parts in such films as "Heat," Johnny Mnemonic" and Lost Highway. In the center, there's the slice-of-life poet/humorist who has released a slew of spoken word albums, one of which, "Get In the Van," earned him a Grammy in 1995. On the right, there's the talent scout who finds promising authors and spoken word performers for the self-owned publishing company and music label 2.13.61, and seeks out reissue projects for the record company Infinite Zero.

\par \par In his spare time, Henry Rollins is the prolific songwriter and tight-fisted frontman of the Rollins Band, plumbing his inner angst over bludgeoning bursts of metal-tipped, blues-tinged hardcore rock. It's a role Rollins has played for a decade now, and his new album, "Come In and Burn," offers pretty much what you'd expect -- razor-sharp, jazz-inflected songs in which Rollins spews about rejection, relationship turmoil and a variety of personal pain. It's a distinctive blend that continues to stand out in an age when nearly every modern-rocker wants audiences to feel his anger.

\par \par Of course, there's also an affable Rollins, which is the one who found time in the midst of a promotional interview frenzy to talk about women, workouts and what it takes to go out and burn.

\par \par RS.com: You've been working on "Come In and Burn" since 1995. Was it different from working on your previous albums?

\par \par Henry Rollins: We wrote over 30 songs for this album and threw out a bunch, so we spent a long time [writing songs] -- longer than we ever have. That's one of the reasons this album took a while. We wanted to finally have enough songs that we could pick and choose, because usually we record about 14, release 12 and have a couple of B-sides, and that doesn't give you a great deal of latitude....We wanted to have enough really good songs to put on the record to go: There you go -- that's what we're talking about.

\par \par Did it rejuvenate the band to have that much time to write together?

\par \par No, I hated it. I don't like taking that much time to write. The next writing period, I bet we'll come up with as many songs, but no way will it take this long. I think we just kind of got a little obsessive about it. I mean, we were just like living in this capsule with these songs. So I don't want to get that [precise] about stuff again.

\par \par The song "All I Want" is obviously about relationships, as are many of your lyrics.

\par \par I think that aspect of my work might get magnified to where someone might be thinking that it's the only thing on my mind, which is not true. But it's definitely something I write about. I've never been able to figure out women. I don't think men are supposed to. I don't think that's the job. I think the mystery and the enigmatic nature is what makes the world go round. I think it's the friction that keeps everyone kind of aggravated and kind of sharp.

\par \par Is doing spoken word shows different from performing with the band?

\par \par Oh yeah, it's much different. With the spoken word thing, it's much more relaxed ... There's no way I can really screw up except to be really boring or something. With the band, what's also a big factor is the physical nature of the music, where I have to be really well rested, really well stretched. Diet has to be perfect, because it's a full-court press. So I treat myself like I'm on the Lakers when I'm on tour. I train. I eat a specific diet at the right time, sleep as much as possible, drink lots of water. The way we play the music is very intense mentally and physically. It's pretty punishing. On tour I'm usually in a state of constant pain. Something is always hurting.

\par \par Do you search out gyms when you're on the road?

\par \par There's an incredible gym in Sydney, Australia, called the Metro. You can hear the music a block away. It's open 24 hours a day and it's low ceiling, nothing but fluorescent lights. Disco pounding and 90 percent gay men just cruising, making contacts. You have the skinny, effeminate guys and the big burly I-just-got-out-of-prison guys. One of these guys came up and started like, smelling me. It was like, whoa. It was really intense.

\par \par What was your reaction?

\par \par I don't care. I was like, "All right -- you using that bench?" [He said] "I fancy you mate." I was just like, yeah, all right, I just got to get this work done. I don't care. I mean that's not the kind of thing that bugs me, getting hit on by a guy.

\par \par How much did the Grammy Award for "Get in the Van" mean to\par you?

\par \par It meant so much to me that I gave it away. I gave it to a friend of mine. She has a mantle over her fireplace. It looks really good there. Because if you saw how I live, it looks like stol