There are two species of sturgeon in the world, Normal Sturgeon and Crank Sturgeon. Normal Sturgeon swim upstream to spawn, Crank Sturgeon swims upstream to perform full-on audio visual insanity and generally scare the hell out of and intensely amuse the recently swum stream in question. I shit you not, with a burrito in one hand and a papier- maché chainsaw in the other, Brendan Howlett put down both of those things, picked up a keyboard and conversed with the Crank.

Question one: Hello there. Identify yourself!

Hi. I am he, who Cranks with Sturgeon. Identification: American by default, Aquarius, umm... and a bit confused (most of the time). I do this thing that you're asking me questions about. It's a form of entertainment (or "art", if you will) that involves sounds (particularly noisy kinds) at high volumes with a performance element. There's a visual context too, somewhat theatrical in a really really off-Broadway experimental production, circa 1962, with gobs of nudity and gibberish and an element that implies one could potentially be arrested. Did you know that I played on Broadway once? Neon lights, man.

Question 1-2: Please provide a list of members/cardboard robots/doomsday inventions/doomsday cardboard fish, both present and past. ...And future as well, if you fell like getting all "woo science" and shit. You answer now!

Members have varied over the years. This thing has primarily been a solo venture, though I've definitely (and admittedly) exploited partnerships to their max. Usually the other guy got too weirded out or we stopped being friends. That said, the best member of all time served as the Punch to my Judy. Clog was his name, and together we'd get all cardboard-centric. I'd do the yelling and cursing while Clog would whack everything in sight with a snow shovel (including me). After about six years, we gave it a decent burial. Our final show consisted of an art "condo" (which are all the rage for all those wealthy artists that can afford them). We built it out of cardboard (about 7' or 8' tall/15' wide square) outside a friend's gallery. During the exhibition opening, I gave a lecture/demonstration to the general public on the fine attributes and benefits in cardboard dwellings. At a certain cue, Clog bellied up to the edge of the roof (of the gallery) and proceeded to become briefly aloft, descending as only a cardboard robot can, into the condo, decimating it. Oh the love!

My other chief partner (also no longer) was a toddler-minded friend/idiot-savant/insurance salesman pal who'd dress up in a nightie and call himself Gaylord Pasternak. Our routine, at its height, involved a good dose of boy-on-boy power electronics and a long vinyl ventilation tube: one end affixed to Gaylord's head, the other covering my source of future progeny. Eeeh, not bad really, but not really gay enough.

Question two: Which came first, the gadgetry or the noisemaking?

Noisemaking, no doubt. I started doing this on my tape boombox before I even knew there was a world out there that enjoyed listening to this stuff. I think I was 12 or 13 at the time, just started pressing the pause button or a combination thereabouts to achieve hilarious blorps and glitches. I think gadgetry only entered in after I'd started playing "serious" music (you know: guitars and such). When I began to tire of musician's music and started to sniff other avenues...

Question three: What is the best sound you have ever heard and why?

Don't know ONE best sound. Right now the spring peepers are singing full throttle and that's an amazing sound to me. Also: cicada, belching water pipes, plungers-in-toilets, and plucking a chopstick against a table make me excessively giggly. A crackling blown speaker just emitting farts is quite pleasurable. Also, while I'm not religious whatsoever, the first time I heard the Muslim prayer call (coming out of loudspeakers) I was pretty entranced.

Question four: You are playing Wavelength soon. What should we expect? Sexy results?

I don't know what the plans are for this little jaunt. You've seen the pictures and we've had the chat, so you know that there's probably SOME kinda something in the works. I don't want to be too mysterious, yet at the same time, revealing one's underclothes too soon spoils the dessert. As far as sexy goes, I know it's not very boy-band of me, but I'm keeping the chest hair.

By Brendan Howlett