How would you describe your music?
Laurel & Hardy smoking kazoos like cigars while driving a rainbow coloured, confetti-spewing tank into your stupid grinning face.
Tell us about how the history of the project?
We are two brothers, a lacrosse coach and an aspiring erotic model who didn’t have the self belief (or falsetto) to persist with our Franki Valli tribute act, so became TV COMA and started farting over doo wop punk songs instead. This is still who we are today.
What are you influences/musical heroes?
Andy Kaufman, entirely. He had people pretend to die on stage to shock the audience. Thats some funny stuff.
What inspires you?
An immeasurable sadness that never loosens its grasp on our decaying souls and promises to plunge us into a pitch black pit of despair of which there is no escape.
Do you write on the road? Or do you prefer to write in the studio?
We don’t do either. We don’t write. Our songs are telepathically transmitted to our instruments by an anonymous sexy force.
What is your favourite song to perform live?
We like playing that one about the uptown girl who has been living inside some white bread. That’s a great and very surreal idea for a song.
What would be your dream tour to be a part of?
A long, meandering excursion around the William Nicholson Art Gallery in Rottingdean, accompanied by Weezer, Jeff Rosenstock and Charly Bliss.
What are you current thoughts on the music industry?
It’s wack yo. Super wack. Apart from Carly Rae Jepsen. She is not wack.
What is the funniest/weirdest experience you have had on tour?
When Jamie (a.k.a Cookie) did a little dancey dancey with his legs. We all had such laughs all together as friends.
What are your future plans?
We plan on never going away, just always being there forever. People might want us to go away, but we’re always going to be there. Years and years will pass and we’ll still be there: impossible to escape, new albums, new tours, stupider shirts. Even after we’re all dead, we’ll still be there, torturing future news feeds with our stupid cartoonish faces going ‘la la la la la’ and shaking our hips and the harder they try to escape, the more they scream “why won’t TV COMA finally go away,” the sooner they’ll realise that it’s hopeless. Because TV COMA don’t go away.
TV COMA are just like you.