Primus frontman Les Claypool recently sat down with Rick Beato for a wide-ranging discussion, covering his inspirations, career milestones, and the ups and downs of creative freedom. The conversation unearthed some candid reflections about label pressures, missed opportunities, and even a song too complex to revisit on stage.
During their early '90s rise, Primus enjoyed a rare level of independence. They self-produced major releases, including the platinum-certified Sailing The Seas Of Cheese (1991), Pork Soda (1993), and Tales From The Punchbowl (1995). But when their 1997 release Brown Album failed to perform commercially, the band found itself at odds with Interscope Records, which pushed for them to collaborate with outside producers.
As Claypool explained (via ThePRP): “Yes. But I didn’t know that. I just knew that. I mean, look, when people want you, you get bargaining power. So, this other label wanted us, and Interscope wanted us, right? So, part of our thing was, well, if you want us, you've got to let us do our thing. And Tom Whalley [Interscope head of A&R,] he fought the fight for us. He always would say, ‘No, let these guys do… It’s working. Let these guys do their thing. Let these guys do their thing…’
Until, like I said, Brown Album. And then everybody was like, ‘Ehhh, wait a minute. That album sounds quite a bit different.’ And it didn’t sell as well as the one previous, [so the label said] ‘Maybe you guys…’ And so that’s why the next record we did [Antipop], we worked with a bunch of different people as producers. But um for a while there, we were, you know, we hadn’t sh*t ourselves yet. So they let us just do whatever we wanted.”
That next record, 1999’s Antipop, saw the group enlist a roster of unexpected collaborators, including The Police’s Stewart Copeland, Rage Against The Machine’s Tom Morello, experimental icon Tom Waits, and even South Park co-creator Matt Stone. Despite the stacked lineup, the record was met with lukewarm reception, contributing to tensions that pushed Primus into a hiatus.
Beyond label struggles, Claypool admitted to one career decision he still regrets: turning down a co-headlining tour with Nirvana just as Nevermind was exploding.
“…There was one thing that I’ve always regretted, this is right around this time [the early 90s], Don Muller — who was our agent — spectacular man, great guy, he said, ‘Hey, how about I’m putting together… We want to do a co-bill, Primus and Nirvana.’ And this was right as Nevermind was just coming out.
And I’m like, ‘No, no, no. We want to do our own tour. We want to do our own tour.’ Because we’d been doing these, you know, 45-minute sets, short sets, opening for all these bands, or playing with these other bands. We wanted to do our own tour, play a full set. I’m like, ‘No, no, no. We don’t want to do that.’ And we didn’t do it. And of course, the whole thing blew up. And I never really, you know, we never really ever played with those guys…”
Though he never toured with them, Claypool did see Nirvana live.
“I saw a show. It was at the Cow Palace, which was a pretty spectacular show. It was the Chili Peppers with Nirvana and Pearl Jam. I think Pearl Jam was opening. That was pretty amazing. But, uh, that was one thing I regretted ’cause I think we would have had a good time on that tour. ‘Cause we always became really good friends with whoever we played with, you know, ’cause we like, we’re fun guys. And I think it would have been a good, good thing. I mean, I’m friends with Krist [Novoselic, Nirvana bassist/vocalist] now.”
When asked about the most difficult Primus track to pull off live, Claypool pointed to “DMV” from Pork Soda. The song has been almost entirely shelved, with only 27 live performances to date — the last in 2015.
“…There’s a song ‘DMV‘ which we just don’t even play because it’s so f*cking hard [laughs]. It’s one of those songs I wrote when I was a young guy, and I probably can’t even play it. I wouldn’t even play it on this bass. It’s like… But I play it on the six string, so it’s even harder.”
The interview highlights the tug-of-war between artistic control and industry demands, while also giving fans a glimpse of the missed roads and musical challenges that shaped Primus’ long, strange journey.
