Richard Hall, otherwise known as Moby, a flesh-and-blood star in a dance movement that puts technology on a pedestal, is ordering breakfast in a Manhattan restaurant: a glass of grapefruit juice.
Skinny and softspoken with short-cropped hair, he is a devout Christian and vegetarian. Two nights earlier, amid the frenzy of a rave party, he would dedicate his most famous song, ”Go,” to ”my Lord, Jesus Christ.”
And then he would plunge into the music, body shaking, arms pumping, with renewed fury. As one admirer, a deejay named DB, says, ”Moby turns from this mild-mannered, well-spoken young man into a psychopath on stage.”
Moby smiles at the description, but has no trouble explaining the apparent contradiction.
”Dancing might seem hedonistic, but it`s an important part of being alive,” the 26-year-old producer/performer/deejay says. ”It has played such an integral role in civilization forever. The drugs and the hedonism are part of it, but what`s also coming into place is a sense of community and a sort of spiritual release. When people dance for six hours, I don`t think it`s hedonism as much as satisfying a physical need.
”I think the first documented rave happened in the Old Testament, when the Ark of the Covenant was brought into Jerusalem and King David took off all his clothes to dance like crazy. He had his naysayers there, including his wife, who said he just made a fool of himself. But he responded that he was filled with the spirit, and he just had to express himself. And I think expressing yourself in that way can be a positive thing.”
Moby has been expressing himself through music since he was 10. He is proficient on any number of instruments, including guitar, bass, drums and keyboards, and performed in hard-core punk bands before becoming involved in the dance community as a deejay. He`s also a huge fan of electronic music-”I love the aggressiveness of techno,” he says, ”but if I had to be on a desert island, I`d probably bring every Brian Eno record.”
His music integrates these disparate influences: It has the sincerity and rage of Black Flag and the relentless groove beloved by dance deejays, yet there`s also an ethereal quality that recalls the ambient atmospherics of Eno`s ”Music For Airports.”
All of it is created in his 600-square-foot apartment in the East Village of New York, which has no running water and no kitchen. He has a bathroom and sink down the hall.
”It`s primitive, but it`s a bit more spacious than my other place” in Connecticut, he says. ”That place was so small that if you stretched your arms you could touch the walls on either side.”
”I`ve lived modestly all my life,” he explains. ”My average yearly income for the last six, seven years is between $8,000 and $11,000. I like humility. You can`t be a proud Christian. It`s one of the central tenets of my religion.”
The money is pouring in these days, primarily from his remix work for artists such as Michael Jackson, the B-52`s and his hero, Eno. But he says he can`t enjoy it. One of his tracks, ”Drop a Beat,” is climbing up the dance charts, but he says it`s an inferior work released without authorization by his record company, Instinct.
”The last six months I`ve been having sleepless nights because of this,” he says. ”I`m under a five-year contract that I`m trying to get out of. Music can be such a sublime thing, yet it attracts so many scumbags.”
He notes that though ”Go” has sold more than 200,000 copies worldwide, he has received only $2,000 in royalties for it.
”Billie Holiday is laughing in her grave, saying, `Welcome to the club,` ” Moby says. But he`s not discouraged.
”I believe human beings thrive in adversity,” and his marvelous records-”Go,” ”Mobility,” his startling remixes of Michael Jackson`s ”Who Is It?”-prove it.
