If you could change the size of any animal to keep as a pet, what would it be?
A tiny elephant, so tiny you could have it on your desk. I think that’d be great. You could put them in a bowl, and then they could spray water over themselves. It’d be a talking point.
Which book, album or film do you always return to, and why?
Remain in Light by Talking Heads is a terrific album. It contains Once in a Lifetime, which is my favourite song of theirs – it is in my top five songs by any artist of all time. Probably the top three. Maybe my top one?
When it came out, Remain in Light seemed to exist in another universe. It was intriguing and it sounded a bit intellectual – it was quite alluring for my romantic teenage self. I didn’t quite know what it was about it, but I was drawn to it instinctively. My favourite songs are like little fragments of poetry that fit perfectly within a groove, and Once in a Lifetime is one of them.
You wanted to be the keyboardist in Talking Heads when you were about 15. Do you still want to be the keyboardist in Talking Heads at 59?
That’s right, I did! I didn’t do anything about it, I didn’t sort of apply, you know – [mimes writing a letter] – “Dear David Byrne, can I be in your band …” I just thought perhaps that if I play really well and leave the window open, David would walk past and go, “Yeah! That’s just the guy I want!”
David Byrne is actually someone who I model myself on, because he continues to work. I only met him quite recently, in Melbourne actually. It was just one of those serendipitous moments where I got to the end of my tour, so I extended my stay and went to his show. It was amazing. I got to meet David after the show and I desperately tried not to make a fool of myself. I made him laugh, which was one of my great life highlights. And it also meant I got a reprimand from the Australian Border Force, because I overstayed my visa. I am probably on some blacklist now!
Last year I visited a winery in Western Australia, and they told me that each year you buy a few bottles of one of their wines, called Bill Bailey. Is that true, or were they trying to sell me wine?
Brown Hill’s Bill Bailey shiraz cabernet! I do, yeah. It is actually very good. Luckily. I came across it years ago when I was performing in Australia and obviously thought, I better try some of this. And then last year, when I was filming in Western Australia, I got to go to the vineyard and meet everyone and have a look around. That was great. It is named after a relative of theirs, not after me. Everyone assumes it is me. They did take a lot of photos while I was there, maybe my face is going to be placed on the label? I’m quite happy with that, it’s a nice drop. It would be awful if it was a weird energy drink or something.
What do you do when you can’t get to sleep?
Usually I play a word game on my phone. I’m completely addicted to Spelling Bee. Sometimes when I’m stuck, I have been known to co-opt complete strangers and say, “You wouldn’t happen to have a word starting with ‘n-e’, would you?” If I finish it, I feel a kind of Zen calm and and can fall asleep immediately.
What is the best thing you’ve seen an animal do?
I saw giant oceanic manta rays off the coast of Bali, near an island called Nusa Lembongan. These were huge mantas – not far off 30 feet [9 metres] from wingtip to wingtip. They are so big that you forget to breathe. There were so many of them and they were all circling, like they were playing or dancing or something. It was amazing. This is one of those things about nature – you never quite know when or how or why something is happening, but you feel like you’ve suddenly intruded on some ancient ritual that’s been going for millions of years.
The guy who took me out there said, “You know, I’ve been diving here for 30-40 years and I’ve never seen this.” There’s a tendency to think that animals’ survival instinct is above all else, that there’s no element of play or ritual. And then you see something like that and realise we don’t know the half of it.
In 2007 fans started a petition to get you cast as a dwarf in the Hobbit films. Did you want to be a dwarf?
Yeah! I’d like to be in a Hobbit film in any capacity. I’d have been quite happy to be a dwarf. But I did think that a petition is not the right way to go about getting that to happen. Imagine the casting director going: “Oh yes, we’re looking at this person, this person … oh, but here’s the petition guy with a big pile of signatures that say we have got to use him.” No one wants the petition guy! I mean, it was very sweet of them to do it, but I think they might have actually kiboshed the whole enterprise.
You’d be a good Tom Bombadil.
Yeah, that’s more me. I would have done Tom Bombadil happily. But tell you what, there’s some dodgy old beards in this Rings of Power show. I’ve been watching it. They have a gazillion bajillion dollars and they still can’t do a good wig? This proto Gandalf fella, he’s wearing a grubby old towelling robe that makes him look like he’s walked out of a cheap motel. His beard is all over the place. You’re a flipping wizard, mate! You spent too much money on the orcs, guys. You’ve forgotten about the bathrobes. Anyway, I still watch it. Obviously.
Do you have a party trick?
I can flip a lot of beer mats. Like, a lot. Way more than you think I’d be able to do. I can’t tell you the exact number, but loads. You’d see me do it and say, “There’s no way.” Like 30, all in one go.
What is your least favourite bird?
It seems harsh to have a least favourite. It implies that there’s a meritocracy about nature. I try to find good in all birds, even your humble pigeon, which some people – particularly in London – seem to view as vermin. But they bathe in our garden in our little bird bath and they’re quite beautiful, even though they are the common, scuffy city hustlers. They’re lovely. Even the lowliest birds, I can find some good in.
What’s been your most cringeworthy run-in with a celebrity?
Me and my mate Kev went to see Paul McCartney play at the O2 Arena in London. When he sings those songs, thousands of people are in a state of rapture, a kind of reminiscence about where they first heard the song, what it means to them and their lives. What I wanted to say to him was, “It’s a very rare thing you have created, a cultural moment where everyone from all these different backgrounds have their own connection with your songs, until they are almost beyond songs, in a way – they are a part of our cultural fabric.”
Of course, it didn’t pan out like that at all. Kev had just had a baby so we were wetting the baby’s head, as it were. We’d had a few drinks. We were hyped up. We got invited back stage to say hello and I thought, I’ve got to say something eloquent, something he’s not heard before.
Paul McCartney came over. What completely threw me was that he recognised me first. So he said “Bill Bailey!” and all of my preparation went out the window. I started babbling this pre-prepared speech that was all back to front. I said, “Paul, you’re, with the song, like, isn’t it like, a cultural part of the thread, with, you know, like Yesterday? Everyone in the culture?”
It was just gibberish. Kev was looking at me, going, “What is this?” I was so nervous that I’d forgotten how to speak properly so then I started trying to rehearse how to speak under my breath, while we all just looked at each other.
The next day, I asked Kev what I’d said and he sent me this hilarious transcript of the exact gibberish. I had tried to say, “Your songs are enmeshed in the cultural fabric”, but almost said “entrenched” by accident. I changed it to “enmeshed” too late, so I said: “Your songs are enmenched!” Paul went, “Enmenched?” And I didn’t know what I had said, so I went, “What? What’s enmenched?” This is not how it was supposed to go, me going, “What are you on about?” at Paul McCartney! It was hellish.
Bill Bailey is touring Australia until 24 November; see here for dates. His memoir My Animals, and Other Animals is out now in Australia and the UK ($34.99, £25)
