tree.

Over ten years ago when he was treading the boards with legendary
hardcore outfit Black Flag, Rollins-the straight-edged, mad eyed
punishing taskmaster of Underground America-made a song called 'My War'
his anthem. Now, with countless records, books, stage and screen
appearances under his body-builder's belt, his vigorous and pitiless
attitude to life has become even more keenly focused. In a city where
people undertake a 25-hour working day before clocking off to go to their
other job, Rollins refuses to be outdone. Fronting Black Flag he was a
punk savage as a heat-seeking missile; now he has primed himself into a
fully fledged media machine. Head of his own publishing house
(2.13.61.), he has a dual-career as monologist and as frontman for his
own fury-fuelled band. During his downtime, he takes bitparts in movies
that rank with the best (Heat)album as
"bomb proof, impervious to the slings and arrows of lofty critics
worldwide," he admits that , for him-a man who lives for the heat of the
moment-the drawn-out nature of the recording process is "like an endless
trip to the dentist."

"It's really hard to take when you're limited as I am vocally to
hear how bad you are, whereas live you can mix in with other decibels."

Finding it unhealthy and unnatural to talk about himself for
hours on end, Henry is never slow to move the Japanese interviewers'
agenda onto other topics. So he talks, fluently and endlessly, about
his many musical loves (from James Brown to Tool, from John Coltrane to
Alice In Chains, Led Zeppelin to Duke Ellington, and much, much more),
his enduring hatred of the many evils festering in his homeland, and