Originally published in Rave, July 1969

Conducting an interview with Keith Moon is rather like running a mental obstacle course with a megalomaniac (his manager’s reference, not mine), with imminent danger to your own person. I have always felt that Moon should be made to wear a placard reading, “Those riding on this machine do so at their own risk.” I also feel that he deserves, along with the Beatles, a monument to testify to his outstanding irreverence for jingoism and “The British Way Of Life.”

The first attempt to tape his interview got me involved in a suicidal drive around the West End with Moon in the guided missile he is disposed to call his car. After the series of cover reverses and three-point turns in the middle of Whitehall, we returned to Track Records where I got a new taped version of “I’m the Face” (the Who’s first abortive record over five years ago) and an exclusive on how he intended to do a drummer’s tour of Sweden with Gary Leeds, where he once had a number one record with “Bucket T” during the Who’s surfing phase!

The second attempt started in a pub some days later (always a dodgy venue to start anything with Moon) and came to a disastrous halt back in Track Records where he contrived to completely dismantle my microphone and explained he was very sorry but needed to be somewhere else. I stumbled brokenly away from that one to repair my machine after having gleaned just one story about the burglar who had tried to steal manager Kit Lambert’s record player that afternoon and electrocuted himself in the process.

Third time lucky they say, and so it is that we present, with much pleasure in glorious black and white, the unexpurgated edition of the thoughts of Chairmoon Moon.

You may read between the lines:

What would you say was your most lunatic achievement?
“Ah yes, that would be my birthday party in Flint, Michigan, when I was arrested by the Sheriff while in the nude covered in birthday cake. I think it had something to do with the bottle of vodka I drank at the time.

“We hired this motel for the party and it got rather out of hand. Some television sets were found lying at the bottom of the hotel swimming pool and one or two of the changing cubicles were damaged. While attempting to evade arrest I tripped over and knocked out my two front teeth.

“The following morning the Law invited me to get out of Flint, Michigan, and never come back, which was a bit awkward as the rest of the Who had gone on to New York and I could not get on a plane—so I hired one, a jet. That party cost approximately $25,000—everyone was very good about it!”

Do you feel any necessity to do anything other than be a drummer—would you like to produce?
“I am a producer—I’ve produced a little three-year-old daughter—Mandy. I’d like to play Hamlet but he wasn’t a drummer, was he? I suppose it could be written in that he was a drummer in his spare time—a bit of a dab hand with the sticks. Let’s face it, he must have been cos he had a sense of rhythm.

“It was a bit of a fluke that I can play drums really or that I can’t play ‘em really. I’m not a great drummer. I don’t have any drumming idols—I know a few idle drummers. And they come over here after having the National Health and move in next to you. It’s disgusting, that’s what it is!”

Have you ever wished you were someone else—someone that you admire for any reason?
“Sometimes I think I’d like to be King Arthur—I liked his taste. Sometimes I think I’d like to be John Entwistle. Sometimes I think I’ll be sick.

“No, I’d like to be John because he hasn’t changed since the day I met him five years ago. Still wears the same clothes in fact. I’d like to be a large cauliflower—no, that’s in bad taste.”

What has been your most miserable moment with the Who?
“That would be when we nearly lost John in a hotel swimming pool in Spain some years ago. He leapt into the four-foot-six with his snorkel and something went wrong with the ping pong ball. He nearly drowned—true story.

“I’m a person who always does things to extremes—extreme happiness or extreme depression, when things get too heavy I just go away or jump out of a window. I don’t get depressed unless I’m around people who are depressing—I reflect their feelings. Sometimes I think I have a death wish. I’m happiest playing drums. I likes to hit—I likes hitting.”