I wanted to start by saying happy incipient fortieth birthday.

Yeah! Can you believe it? When I think of our mothers, life was over at forty for them. But I find it extremely liberating and powerful. I didn't have a good time in my late thirties. Now I feel suspiciously younger, in a lot of different ways and for a lot of different reasons. I'm in better shape than I've ever been physically. I'm, you know, more physically active -- how can I say this? -- in all kinds of ways. I also think, "Oh, I'm so forty in a Britney Spears world," but that curiously doesn't weigh on me at all.

When you say you feel younger, what do you mean?

Before, I thought, "I'm in my late thirties, I have two kids, I'm all grown up and serious now." And then you realize, no, that's not where it's at at all. Now I'm feeling my youth.

I'm allowing myself to play, allowing myself to be silly and to do for myself. I'm in a place that allows me to do that. And it's making me very, very happy.

Though you do not exercise silliness in your music.

Not much, no. Though if you've ever seen me live, I do put silliness in my live show -- but I don't put silliness in my albums. Because that was never what my music was for, to me.

When I started making music, you know, when I was ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, it was a place that I could put my emotions, because I couldn't express them in my family. So I would put sad and angry in my songs. And that's what they became -- they became emotional vessels and a release for me. And that was not a silly thing for me at all.

Why did you decide to write a book?

It started a little over a year ago. I was thinking of doing a one-woman show on Broadway, where I could do my live thing but wouldn't have to go from city to city to city. I could sit in one place for a while and be with my kids. And I was thinking, "Well, I'll make it about my life." And then I thought, "Well, as long as I'm writing about my life, I'll just write a book. It will be easy." What did I know? Nothing! And it was also because there are questions that people always ask me. Always, always, always: "What's it like growing up in the Midwest? What's it like growing up gay in the Midwest? What's it like growing up in a small town and becoming a rock star? What's it like growing up in a small town and being gay and becoming a rock star? Why David Crosby?" You know -- those questions that are just always there, that don't have much to do with the music but do have to do with me. I was finding that my personal life was as looked to as my music. So I just entered into it very nonchalantly, and innocently enough. Then, while I was sitting down with a tape recorder telling my whole life story day after day after day, and seeing my relationship fall apart -- it became a book about my life and the experience that I had just gone through.

You write about being sexually abused by your older sister as a child. Was that a tough decision to make, to write about that?

It wasn't a tough decision to make -- I knew this was a piece of me, a part of me, and I knew that if I was writing a book about the truth of my life and my experience, if I left that out it would be lying to myself, and it would be trying to protect living in that untruth, and that it wouldn't be healthy for me. I do know the pain it might cause my sister, and I am not oblivious to that or uncaring about that. There just comes a point where it's not good to hold family secrets anymore, where it's not right or healthy.

Did you talk to her about it before you wrote it?

No-o-o. I mean, I didn't say, "Hey, I'm going to write a book about this." But we had already discussed it.

Also in the book, a thing that's rather striking is that you include something that you wrote at age fourteen, where you refer to your "old tattered heart." And you actually have very similar language on your new record.

Right. "My battered heart." I'm still going back to fourteen, going, "OK, where did I go wrong?" I think that my experience in my family of the dearth of nurturing and emotional availability -- it makes you feel like you have a tattered heart, or a battered heart, or a heart that is not filled and is wanting and needing. That definitely existed in me, especially at fourteen. It was difficult and interesting going back and reexamining my teenage years.

Because I've spent so much time going, "OK, phew, I got through that; never mind." And moving on. It was always just this part that was like, "Yeah, well, that wasn't much fun."

And actually going back and reading those things, it was like, "Ow!" There was all this pain that I'd just stuffed down there and never examined.

Your record is definitely a breakup record. But it's a very empowered breakup record. How did power come out of this experience? It's clear from your book that it was agony.

Yes, it hurt more than anything I've known since my father's death, and in that pain, in that going all the way down, it forced me to finally look at myself, pick myself up and just do it.

So instead of just being like break up and break down, it was more like, "OK, all I've got to look at is myself. Like physically, I'm shaking, and I can't eat, and it's horrible, I'm so scared, I'm so scared, I'm so scared -- but I have children, and I've got to figure this out.

I've got a successful career. So come on. Let's feel it, let's not deny it, let's go through it. I mean, I also had my complete depressed Hagen Dazs and cinnamon-toast days.

Do you ever feel like you've been misled by music? In the book, you write about withdrawing into music when you were young, and a lot of the music of that time has this very intensely romantic ideology: I will love you forever ever ever, and I will leave you never never never. It's music that bestows high romantic expectations on the people who believe in it.

If you'd asked me that question two or three years ago, I would have said, "Yes, we've been misled, because it's all hard work." Now I'm not so quick to dismiss it. I'm in a very romantic period right now; I'm in a very oh-the-magic-is-there period. And it's not Helen Hunt.

To quote an interviewer from before you revealed that David Crosby was the biological father of your children: It's Brad Pitt, isn't it?

It is! It's Brad Pitt, damn it! It's been Brad Pitt all along! This gay thing was just for publicity! No. It's a young actress, her name is Tammy Lynn Michaels. She was on the WB show Popular. So I'm dating a high school student, basically.

How'd you meet her?

In a club in L.A. She asked me out. And I had kind of given up. I wasn't even going to go to that club that night. But my friends were saying, "Come on! Let's go!" And I was like, "OK, all right." And, boom. That was only a couple of months ago. So it's kind of awkward for me, because it's very new and very day-to-day. It's very clean and very clear and no games, and, boy, do I welcome all that.

And now you can say that you haven't been betrayed by the romantic ideology of the Archies. What was some of the music of your childhood? What 45s did you buy?

Tommy James and the Shondells -- "Crimson and Clover," "Dragging the Line." And Steppenwolf. Oh, my God, "Magic Carpet Ride"! And, I mean, "Dragging the Line"? "My dog Sam eats purple flowers, we ain't got much, but what we've got's ours"? God. It doesn't get any better!

What is the Motown song you most identify with?

"Just My Imagination," by the Temptations.

Another heartbreak song. Because he'll never get her, but he......can't forget her, and it was just my imagination. Who was a young dyke growing up in the Midwest? Motown was a huge part of my growing up, of my musical experience. I still hear that song and it affects me.

And what Rolling Stones song do you most identify with?

Oh, wow. That's hard. "Slave" -- "Don't wanna be your slave."

Lastly, what Madonna song do you most identify with?

Oh, people don't know how much I identify with Madonna. I'm a huge Madonna fan. Someone recently told me I should cover the song that's out now, "What It Feels Like for a Girl." But I always have identified with Madonna. I love how free she has been in her own sexuality and style. And constantly pushing the envelope, which always made me seem more normal.

How do you think the music industry has changed since you started?

Oh, gosh. I got my record deal in the late Eighties. I was on Island Records, and it was just this little label -- it had big bands like U2 and Bob Marley, but still, just this little label that was run by Chris Blackwell. And you know, Chris Blackwell was the guy that signed me.

So it was all very simple. He allowed for there to be enough money for me to grow and enough time for me to grow. I don't think that's available out there these days. It wasn't until my fourth album that I had a real hit. Now Chris Blackwell's gone, and I deal with business people and numbers. And thank God I have a following. Because otherwise, yikes!

Everyone looks at numbers, and no one listens to anything.

No. They look at numbers and say, "You are the weakest link, goodbye!"

You know, I was a question on the debut of that show. I was kind of honored. It was the "Who fathered my children?" question. And they got it right.

Oh. Well, good. You didn't weaken anyone as a link. What music, other than what you were writing, sustained you during your breakup?

Good question, because that's what music does. I went into pop music. I love to listen to the radio. I fell in love with David Gray and got that album and listened to it. Coldplay was a big breakup help. The Sade album. But you know, I listen to Christina and Britney and 'N Sync and Jessica and Mandy and, geez, Mya -- all of them! And Pink. And it's delightful candy. Delightful. Don't think when the remake of "Lady Marmalade" comes on I'm not shaking my booty. I am. Oh, and Jill Scott -- I love that.

So. Christina or Britney?

Truth? I love Christina's voice. But I kind of dig Britney's whole thing. Yep.

Could you elaborate on that?

As a lesbian?

I meant just as a person. But as a lesbian, sure.

Uh-huh. Sure. I really think Christina has great chops. She kind of overdoes it, but that's sort of what everyone's into right now. But she's got a huge voice, and I like listening to it.

Yet if a video of hers came on, I'm not that interested in watching it, whereas I will stop in the room and watch a Britney video.

And that's speaking as a lesbian or a person?

As a lesbian person. It's just like whatever it is in this world right now that she represents that we enjoy, there it is, it's all fresh and young and American and produced. I love her latest one [singing]: "Don't let me be the last to know!"

I mean this in a positive way, but she's just so shameless. When her first hit happened, and I saw her in that little schoolgirl outfit, I was like, "Um . . . integrity?" None. There is none. And it's fantastic. There you go. And isn't that honest? It's so truth. And it's totally, totally appealing. With Christina, there's something hidden, and I don't like to watch it. It makes me uncomfortable to watch it. She should go do a rock thing next. Be in a rock band.

You were very outspoken in support of Eminem.

Oh, yeah. And I drew a lot of fire from some of my community, my little sexual community, for that. But it's just real clear to me that I am an artist and an American and a homosexual, and even though I certainly don't like and am fearful of some of the things in his lyrics, I will never say that he cannot say it, ever. That would just be hypocritical of me, to stand up and say, "Let me be who I am and say what I want, but you can't." That's not my job. I understand that for others in my community, it was their job to say, "Hey, this is promoting hatred and hate crime." And they should do it. But I can't stand with them on this one. Not that I'm against them. I'm just not with them. I'm standing in my artistic community on this one.

Do you like his record?

I think he's a great artist. I think he's troubled. But you listen to the record, and you go, "Oh, fuck, that's good." It's not something I listen to with any pleasure. But I did listen to it and examine it, and I enjoyed it for the art that it was.

Do you imagine your ex listening to the songs on "Skin" and having a response?

Well, I didn't write the songs to go, "Here! Take that!" But I gave it to her, and she listened to it. And she really hasn't commented. We're not communicating on that level yet. We definitely communicate well about family and the kids, and we're good at that, and close, and have that worked out. But the other stuff is far away.

Right. But that wasn't really the question. I wasn't asking if there was a response. I was asking if you imagine one.

Oh. I don't even go there. For me to go there and imagine the response is not safe. So no.

When you say to your co-writer, Laura Morton, in the acknowledgments part of your book, "You were right, I could have it," to what are you referring?

There was a point, before the breakup, when things were kind of not good at home. And Laura would come, we would work, and I'd be talking about my life, I'd be talking about relationships. And at one point, I said, "Well, you know, then there's that complete adoration and love and cherishing that you just can't have." And she just looked at me and she said, "Yes, you can. You can have that." And it just stopped us both. And when we were reflecting back on that, when we were finishing up the book at my new house, I had begun dating, and feeling things, and going, "Oh. It is possible. I can have that."

[From Issue 872 — July 5, 2001]