Glenn O'brien: Pop-Cultural Attache
The Jets game is in the fourth quarter and it's tied. Glenn O'Brien is having trouble dividing his attention between an interviewer's questions and the small, white TV on top of the refrigerator, where the team of his esteem is trying to pull off the impossible: a win.
The TV seems not only oddly placed, but a bit out of place amid the fine artwork that graces the walls. Eventually the Jets blow their one and only chance to score, lose, and a sense of normalcy is restored.
"It's kind of like a curse," Mr. O'Brien sighed about the weight of being a Jets fan since their glory days. Not even a seasoned magazine writer and advertising wiz like himself could put a positive spin on his team this year.
Calvin Klein Campaign
The Manhattanite hasn't had a chance to kick back at his Bridgehampton home for a while. Work on developing Calvin Klein's next television advertising campaign has bounced him the past few weeks from London to Georgia and back to New York.
A longtime writer and creative director at Barney's New York, Mr. O'Brien has been involved in some of Calvin Klein's most notable ad campaigns, including those for the fragrances Eternity and cK one. He's also developed ad concepts for Armani, Swatch, and some other high-profile clients. He recently broke from Barney's to establish his own company.
It's not a bad gig for someone who stumbled into advertising only about 11 years ago. It makes sense, though; a fashionable company could hardly find a better pop-culture attach‚ than Mr. O'Brien to spread its word.
Throughout his long and varied career, Mr. O'Brien has worked as a writer, editor, lead singer, television show host, and art critic besides being an ad man. His work as a writer and editor has placed him on the mastheads of Rolling Stone, Playboy, Interview, High Times, Spin, and Details.
Though he has yet to publish a book of his own, Mr. O'Brien helped edit and write Madonna's hugely popular book "Sex," which sold nearly 500,000 copies after its release in 1992.
Readers of Interview magazine may recognize Mr. O'Brien by the column he wrote for 12 years, "Glenn O'Brien's Beat." The "beat" was New York City and its thriving nightlife scene from the late '70s through the '80s. It was a scene set in night spots like the Mudd Club, CBGB, and Max's Kansas City, peopled by icons like Andy Warhol and David Bowie, and whose soundtrack pulsed with the new sounds of punk rock and new wave.
Blondie To The B-52s
"Everybody knew each other back then," recalled Mr. O'Brien. "It was a lot different than it is today." People also knew Mr. O'Brien from the surprisingly popular show "TV Party," which he started on New York public-access television in 1978.
With its own house band, musical guests, and Mr. O'Brien at the helm, the show offered a weekly slice of life from the new-wave music and nightlife scene.
"Basically, it was a kind of a goof on the 'Johnny Carson Show,' " he said. But what made it a hit in New York as well as Los Angeles was that "it was wild, it was free-form, and we had a lot of interesting guests." Regulars included David Bowie, Blondie's Debbie Harry, The B-52s front man, Fred Schneider, and John Lurie of The Lounge Lizards, many of whom were already friends with the host. The show ran for four years, until 1982.
Film Critic
Mr. O'Brien was clearly at home in the emerging scene, as both an observer and a member. "I was doing what I wanted to do," he said. "It was glamorous, exciting, and fun. . . .I went out every night, and I never had to pay for a drink."
The Cleveland native had been lucky along the career path ever since he arrived in New York in 1970, a graduate of Georgetown University. Inspired by the filmmaking of Andy Warhol and Jean-Luc Godard as an undergrad, he enrolled in Columbia University's film school.
He soon found himself writing film reviews for The Village Voice, courtesy of its film critic, Andrew Sarris, who was also a Columbia professor. "He used to let his good students write for The Voice," Mr. O'Brien said. That experience helped earn him an editing post at Andy Warhol's Interview magazine. He and a classmate, Bob Colacello, both in their early 20s, left film to edit the magazine. He still considers Andy Warhol "my mentor."
Eventually, Mr. O'Brien left Interview and took a job at the New York office of Rolling Stone. The magazine was still based in San Francisco at the time. It didn't click. "It was interesting. That's all I'll say," he offered.
That may have applied to some of the magazine's cast members. Mr. O'Brien recalls meeting the renegade journalist Hunter S. Thompson for lunch one day at a crowded, upscale Manhattan bistro. In character as always, Mr. Thompson brought with him a boater's air horn, which he let wail every time he needed a drink.
Mr. O'Brien left Manhattan to take an editing job at the Chicago-based Playboy magazine. That, too, lasted only briefly, as New York called him back. After returning to Manhattan, Mr. O'Brien turned entirely to freelance writing, a serious change from working on salary as an editor.
Off On His Own
Fortunately, "at that time you could live really cheaply. I had an apartment on the Lower East Side that I paid nothing for. It was really cheap, which is one reason why New York became such a center for the arts, I think."
Mr. O'Brien did confess to hocking the promotional copies of albums he received for pocket change. Through the years, the writer managed to establish a healthy freelance career, publishing pieces in Esquire, Playboy, High Times, and, later, Spin magazine, which he had done work for since its foundation.
Somewhere in between "Glenn O'Brien's Beat" and Glenn O'Brien's foray into the advertising world, he began doing stand-up comedy. He got the inspiration from an old comedy record by B.S. Pulley, "a gruff, kind of far-out comedian from the '50s" who was ripe for parody. Borrowing from the popular "Beatlemania!" he dubbed his act "Pulleymania!" and brought his Catskills-style schtick to some of the city's hot night spots.
Comedy Stint
When David Johansen, the former singer from The New York Dolls, discovered Mr. O'Brien performing late one night at Danceteria, he hired him instantly as the opening act for his own faux-lounge act, Buster Poindexter.
Mr. O'Brien had a band himself for a brief period - "the world's first socialist-realist band," as he de scribed it. Wearing Viet Cong-style black pajamas and red boots, the band pumped out songs like "Own Your Own House," and other gems. "I was the lead singer," Mr. O'Brien said. "My line was, 'Socialism means going out every night!' "
It was in 1985 that Mr. O'Brien was introduced to the advertising world. A friend, Paula Greif, who was the art director at Barney's New York, needed help coming up with dialogue for an already filmed TV commercial and turned to Mr. O'Brien for help. His words worked. The agency was impressed enough to bring him on as a writer for other projects, and, a few years later, he was named the agency's creative director.
The Style Guy
"I realized you could make money in advertising," he said. His approach to advertising has been simply "trying to figure out something interesting and different" for each client.
Writing hasn't taken a back seat to advertising. Mr. O'Brien remains a frequent magazine contributor. The popular men's magazine Details has enlisted him as "The Style Guy" to offer "Real Help for the Flair Impaired" in a monthly advice column. It's a perfect forum for Mr. O'Brien's dry, deadpan humor, a trait that carries over into his general style and demeanor.
Readers ask questions like: "Why do Gucci loafers have metal horse bits across the front?"
"So that if you accidentally put your foot in your mouth, you'll be able to stop," the Style Guy replies.
Profound Problems
Recent questions have touched on such pressing issues as "How do I get the beer smell out of sofas and rugs?" (Woolite or Ivory Liquid) and "What does a monogram on a shirt say about a man?" ("You are or think you are Yves Saint Laurent.")
The trendy fashion magazine Paper this month carries a humor piece on the irony of disallowing smoking on airlines but allowing them to "drench themselves in fragrances," and apply nail polish remover.
"It still bugs me that I can't smoke a Camel in many fine New York restaurants," he writes, "but I can douse myself in Drakkar Noir and pedicure myself all the way to L.A. at 35,000 feet if I were so twisted. I smell a rat. I think it's wearing Canoe."
Basquiat Film
Mr. O'Brien has wanted to publish a book of such material for years. "What I really like to do is write humorous essays. Of course, you can't get rich by doing that . . . the book business is weird. I used to think if I want to get my book published, I'd have to go out and commit a crime first."
On the more immediate horizon, Mr. O'Brien is looking to release "New York Beat," a film he co-produced in the '80s with the late artist and his friend Jean Michel Basquiat. With many of the era's players playing themselves, the movie documents the new wave and punk music scene. Mr. O'Brien wrote himself a cameo in the movie, playing, yes, a music journalist.
"For strange business reasons," it was never released, but Mr. O'Brien said the recent resurrection of interest in Basquiat, through a major film and an art retrospective in New York, may provide the impetus.
Having Fun
Mr. O'Brien was a good friend of Basquiat's, and some of the artist's paintings adorn his Bridgehampton house, along with a collection of other artworks. It was through Basquiat that Mr. O'Brien met Madonna. She and the young artist had dated briefly.
"They were a cute couple," recalls Mr. O'Brien. Madonna and Mr. O'Brien have remained close. Aside from pitching with "Sex," Mr. O'Brien has also written a press kit and a tour program for Madonna.
Twice married at 49, and with a son, Mr. O'Brien still exudes a youthful hipness. He loves jazz. He has an extensive music collection. His girlfriend, Gina, works in fashion public relations.
He is happy doing what he does, and his reputation keeps growing. "I'm well recognized in my field. I'm grateful for it," he said. Then, with a smirk, "But I deserve it."