With a name like Bobby Conn, a performer should be playing Vegas. Alas, despite a deep admiration for Sammy Davis Jr., Conn will have to settle for being the Antichrist.
Conn’s two solo albums, “Bobby Conn” and the forthcoming “Rise Up” (Truckstop/Atavistic), are inspired works of sci-fi fantasy, orchestral pop grandeur and biblical doom and gloom that predict the world will end on June 13, 2000 — which would be Conn’s 33rd birthday. His live performances have already become the stuff of legend in Chicago’s underground, full of costume pageantry, over-the-top emoting and lushly textured pop-soul.
Shtick aside, Conn delivers the musical goods, particularly on the luxurious “Rise Up,” in which dense, multi-part arrangements produced by Jim O’Rourke and played by a who’s who of Chicago’s finest musicians are put in service of the singer’s surreal agenda. “I’m gonna do you all/In my satin Speedo,” threatens Conn, a preacher-comedian who melds the worlds of Marvin Gaye and Richard Harris, “Jesus Christ Superstar” and “Ziggy Stardust.”
Despite a busy schedule preparing for Armageddon and a performance Tuesday at the HotHouse, Conn took a few moments recently at a Bridgeport bar to discuss his latest work.
You know, we don’t have enough albums about the end of the world.
I wanted to start early because I figured the closer we got to the apocalypse, there’d be more and more records coming out about it. I wanted to get there first. You’re gonna see a lot of people trying to cash in on that concept.
So what’s in store on June 13, 2000?
That would be my ascension as the Antichrist. It’s probable I’m the Antichrist, although I don’t have a lot of supernatural powers just yet. If you read Revelations, I have to unify the world under one government, all religions become absorbed into my religion, and I have to vanquish the kingdoms to the west. That’s a lot of work in less than two years. And my last record only sold 700 copies, so I’ve got a long, long way to go.
Why have you been chosen, Bobby?
Technically, anyone born in 1967 is in the running to be the Antichrist, because they’ll be 33 in 2000. It may be a little crass, but it’s a bit of a gimmick. I’ve been obsessed with it since my childhood. I had a writing class in college that said, “Write what you know.” Well, I know the Antichrist. I’ve read all about him in the Bible, and if you’re the slightest bit paranoid or megalomaniacal, like I am, it’s confusing and fascinating. Logically, I’m probably not the Antichrist, but this is the stuff that’s going on in my head, and it comes out.
(Laughter)
We laugh and chuckle about this, because it is a fairly comical, paranoid fantasy. But I fully believe it. And I understand why other people are skeptical, which feeds into my thing. That’s where Marilyn Manson has got it wrong. He’s trying to be all scary. But what you want is to get as many people as possible to follow you. The record is calculated to appeal to as wide an audience as possible by incorporating lots of elements throughout pop history. I wanted to make the songs catchy and upbeat sounding. I tried to do that on the first record, but wasn’t nearly as coherent.
The live show is pretty amazing.
People see my stuff and they see kitsch, they see camp. And what they don’t realize is that I know that. But I’m not trying to make you laugh but create a metaphor, and the reason it’s absurd is that the resources at my disposal are so crappy. I have cardboard and string, all the time, cardboard and string. If I had a ton of money, I don’t know if it would turn into Kiss or the Spice Girls. But I don’t think I could ever manage slick. It gets to be such a strain mentally because I have eight personas and I try to keep them all in a box.
Including one for interviews?
Absolutely. I’m sorry it has to be that way, Greg.
Are people offended by you?
Everything is so relative in this era and no one believes in anything. It’s hard to offend an audience that’s jaded and cynical, which my audience generally is. I try to suggest that maybe they shouldn’t be that way. That maybe some of this stuff should upset them.
What do you hope people will get out of the Bobby Conn experience?
One, that people should reflect a bit about their life. Second: Screw the big questions, have a good time, ’cause you’ll be dead in the morning. It’s coming. There’s a chance I could be wrong, and if it becomes 2001, I’ll have egg on my face. But if I get the supernatural powers, imagine the show I could put on.
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