What does the song mean to you now?
I’m not a nostalgic person, but I can tell when I play it for the audience that they are. I could do a whole show of hits if I wanted to, but I don’t. That’s one reason I quit playing arenas and playing outdoors. It wasn’t about music — it was about being a human jukebox.
What you’re observing and describing in these songs seems to be a decaying idea of America, especially in “The Eyes of Portland.”
That song is a true story. I was in Portland six or seven years ago, having lunch at a fancy restaurant. There was a 25-year-old girl walking manically back and forth, outside the restaurant. She told me that nobody wanted her back home, because she was too much trouble. I gave her some money, and she said, “Do I have to have sex with you for this money?” I said no, and she took off running. I don’t know if that girl made it home, so I wrote a song about her.
The first song on your first album was called “American Dream.” For your second album, you wrote “American Son.” Jack and Diane are “two American kids,” and the hook to “Pink Houses” is “Ain’t that America.” Is it fair to say that regardless of the era, you’re always singing about America?
I’m going to quote Bob Dylan to you. Bob and I were painting together one day, and I asked him how he wrote so many great songs. In all seriousness, he said, “John, I’ve written the same four [expletive] songs a million times.” I’m going to get in line with Bob on that. It’s always the same song, just more mature or with a different angle.
Why has your singing voice changed so much?
Because I still smoke. My grandmother lived to be 100. I’m pretty sure I won’t make it that long, because I started smoking when I was 10. When you start smoking, you have to want to. But now it’s the only thing that I do well, so I don’t mess with it.
