TG: Okay, what the f**k are we doing here? Do we have a plan? We don't have a plan, do we? We're so scr*w*d....

TA (brushing lint from his Armani suit): Calm yourself, doom childe. We have a plan.

TG: We do? We have a plan? All right! What's the f**king plan,then?

TA: We're going to interview Mister Gavanti.

TG: Um, he disappeared, remember?

TA: Fine. Then we'll round up a handful of his sycophants and interview them. Through their words we shall glean knowledge of the man that is John Gavanti.

TG: Uh, how are we... gonna.... (watches as TA claps his hands and the room is suddenly filled with blinking, bewildered sychophants rounded up from around the globe) F**k, that was a good trick, dude. Can you make them go away afterwards, too?

TA: But of course.

TG: Can you make all my bill collectors disappear, too? Better yet, can you dial up a couple of speed freaks in the middle of a kick-a*s deal and let me waste them and take the big bags o' crystal?

TA (scowling): I'll not be privy to your growing, senseless drug addiction, fool.

TG (sulking): Ah, you're just a big b*st*rd like the rest of them....

TASCAM-Girl speaks with Hilly Gumboldt, a stoned fan from Akron, Ohio:

TG: Would you consider yourself a serious fan of John Gavanti?

HG: Fan? Fan? I'm his number one fan. I even, like, have his first, uh, single... actually, an acetate... the one that, you know, the dumb suit at Columbia turned down... and then the guy lost his job over it, yeah, when... when... when Mister Gavanti went on to sell millions on that first....

TG: So as a John Gavanti fan, you must obviously feel some intense connection with his art. What does it mean, to you, to be a John Gavanti fan?

HG: Oh man, that... that's almost like... like... like asking, you know, what it means to be a fan of, like, you know, breathing and stuff. To me, it's like... Mister Gavanti is, you know, number one, and everybody else in history is, like, tied for second.

TG: So you feel strongly about his talents, then?

HG: John Gavanti is, like, so far ahead of his time that they'll still be playing, uh, his albums -- all of them, studying them, still trying to figure them out -- going "Man! This is totally, like, where it's at!" and then, like, suddenly it hits them that this album is, maybe, say, centuries old... yeah. They'll be playing John Gavanti in the little moon camps, man, when they, like, colonize the stars. What Mister Gavanti does, see, it's... it's so... I mean it's so timeless... it's... almost like it never was. Do you see what I'm saying?

TG: What do you think are his strengths? His melodicism? His stunning arrangements? His passion for drama? His little-known stint in the Illuminati? What?

HG: Oh, jeez... just... just being John Gavanti. That's his strength. Because, you know, he's... he's an inspiration to everyone on the planet, really. If you stop to think about it. Because, see, what, what is he really? He's nothing but, you know... John Gavanti. It's like, almost, maybe... you know those, uh, science projects you used to do in school? We used to do 'em all the time, like my pal Fern in the sixth grade -- Fern, uh, is a girl, or was a girl, I guess she'd be, um, a woman now... unless maybe she died... um... anyway, uh, Fern had this, one year she had this, well, it was like this... um, how to, uh, describe it... uh, like, you know, these... the planets, all eight of them, yeah, um, all like lined up on little, um, what do you call them, hootchiedoos, so they would rotate around this big sun. Well, it was really, uh, a... a tennis ball? Yeah, a tennis ball, but it wasn't really a tennis ball, see, it was the sun. And all these other planets, except here they were, uh, like maybe little ping-pong balls or something, they were... um... all going around the sun, see? Around... the... sun. And, that means of course, you know, the sun... is in... the middle. Right? Right? So anyway, my point is, uh, that, to everyone else, John, uh... he's like the sun. We're all just little ping-pong balls and John Gavanti... is the tennis ball.

TG: Have you ever met Mister Gavanti?

HG: Oh no. No. Uh... heh. No. No, nobody... no.

TG: You've never met him?

HG: Nope. No. No, I've seen him -- I think, uh, the first show I saw of his was in 1972, back when he was, uh, in that band the Astro Kleen Air Champs band... they were like, you know, a band for, uh, with... they were all working together at the Astro Kleen Air factory and put together, uh, got together with a band, and they only lasted... what was it... man. That was so long ago.... Uh.... Hold on, let me think here. 1972... where was I in 1972? Man, so long ago.... Man. Whoa. Yeah. Yeah, they were together just long enough, maybe two months? Just long enough to play two shows. One... well, nobody talks about that one, not after the bass player... well... well, it's not good, uh, to speak, you know, speak ill of the dead, so, uh, never mind. The second show, though, that one... oh yeah... that was a good one. They played that one -- it was Mister Gavanti, Kosmo, and... um... shoot, I can never remember that guy's name -- anyway, it was them, the same guys, just with no bass player, because he was... well... Anyway, they ended up, uh, playing this party for the boss and his wife... man that was just... oh, I forgot, the lawyer said I'm not supposed to... I mean... uh... anyhow, they only got to play, uh, maybe two songs before the cops... um, before they had, uh, you know, to stop. But in those two songs... man! I can't even... can you imagine, like, what it must have been like, you know, the first time you saw the Beatles play something from, like, ABBEY ROAD? Or being there when, like, Hendrix set his drums on fire? Or... wait, maybe that was Keith Moon. Um... Anyway, it was so... so... it was John Gavanti being, um, John Gavanti. Which, you know, is... it's everything. I tried to talk to him afterwards, to tell him what that, um, what that performance -- and that's what it was, uh, a performance, just this amazing presence... and I went up to, uh, tell him this, or maybe even, uh, just shake his hand, you know... even just to stand next to, to... to greatness... and he was standing there, uh, straightening his tie while the cops went... well... he was so, so calm and it was like he had become, uh, a beacon in the wilderness. And I went, uh, over to tell him this, you know, and the next thing I know, uh, I'm in the hospital from when the cop's, uh, the nightstick... mmm, maybe I shouldn't be talking about this. Anyway, I was so close and, uh, of course I never saw him up close again, you know, because you... you can't get to John Gavanti. He comes to you, uh, if you please him, but... no. Nobody goes... nobody just walks up to Mister Gavanti. It just isn't done, you know what I'm saying?

TG: How does it feel to appreciate his art so intensely?

HG: That's -- you know, I'm glad, uh, you said that, um, when you said, uh, so intensely. Because, uh, the art of John Gavanti... it's very intense. The words, the sounds, how he phrases things... you can, uh, get lost in them. There's so much brilliance, you know, crammed into just one song, it would, like, take you centuries to really understand it, and then... there's more songs. And... and they're all, they're just all brilliant. And it's, uh, like a tidal wave of brilliance, and it washes over you, uh... like a waterfall. A waterfall of, like, sound. And after a while, you listen... for some it might be one time, some it might be, you know, a hundred... but one day... you're, like, you know, listening to John Gavanti and you find, uh, it's like suddenly you go, "What kind of mind would think of this?" You're just trying to get into, you know, the idea of John. Not even Mister Gavanti, or the artist John Gavanti, just... John. You don't really know John Gavanti, you just... you know. It's like when you're a kid playing piano in your room, and all you want to be when you grow up, you know, is... John Gavanti. But you can't really know him, because he's, you know, John Gavanti. And that's what makes it so intense, see, because, you know, you can never really, uh, be John Gavanti, even though it's your only dream. He's so intense he makes the rest of the world look like a dream, you know?

The Antichrist speaks with Sallam Hildebrandt, John Gavanti's second manager:

TA: How was it, handling Mister Gavanti's affairs? You were only his manager for two months....

SH: Two months? Was that all? It felt like decades. John Gavanti packs so much life and vitality into every single day that he compresses time. The entire time I was around him and his entourage was like going to school, the real school.

TA: How well did you know him?

SH: To be honest, not very well. He was already so famous and his entourage so large that I rarely had the opportunity to meet with him personally -- generally everything was done through his assistants. Nevetheless, I was able to glean certain aspects of his personality, even his art, through their requests. It was an amazing time, right as he was preparing to make his fourth album -- the one that swept the Grammy awards, if you'll recall -- and it was my pleasure to meet his every need so he could compose in comfort. Although I must admit that the request for the oiled, naked Swedish midget wrestling team was a bit... peculiar.

TA: Was there anything about his art that you found especially compelling during this period?

SH: Oh, his approach to chromatic verse structures, certainly. His compelling lyricism. Just... you know... his vision. Rarely in my life have I ever met an artist with such a far-ranging vision. He's truly one of the last visionaries, like an operatic Dylan, if you will, with the manly charisma of Elvis and the sartorial style of royalty. They don't make artists like John Gavanti anymore.

TA: So why was your management of his career confined to such a brief period?

SH: His art was evolving so rapidly, and his audience growing so immense, that it soon became clear that I was in over my head. I'm used to dealing with superstars, but John Gavanti is the superstar to end all superstars, and in the end it was just more than I could handle. Rather than fail such a commanding figure, I elected to find him better management and let them take over. But I'll never forget those two months -- in fact, I will treasure them forever. How many people can claim to have had such a close connection to John Gavanti?

TA: Even though you technically saw little of him?

SH: You don't have to see John Gavanti to be overwhelmed by his presence.

TASCAM-Girl speaks with Tiffy Titsworth, one of Gavanti's many personal assistants:

TG: How long did you work for Mister Gavanti?

TT: Oh, for years and years. I was actually in charge of keeping up with his collection of sunglasses.

TG: His sunglasses?

TT: Yeah, he has about a million of them. They're all black, and from a distance they all look alike, but once you get up close you can see the attention to detail that makes them all different. Of course, nobody ever gets that close to Mister Gavanti, but it's the details that count. He knows they're different, and that's all that matters.

TA: Did he ever actually talk to you?

TT: Just once. I don't even remember what was going on, except there was this conversation and we were talking, and someone started spouting off about using logic to figure out every problem in life. Or something like that. And Mister Gavanti leaned over and said -- I'll never forget it -- "A great hallucination once said logic is the chastity belt of the mind." And we were all floored. Because what can you say? He was a genius.

The Antichrist speaks with Arnold Van Borscht, tie salesman:

TA: I understand you met Mister Gavanti once?

AVB: Right. I was at a casino in Vegas -- I don't remember which one, it was the one where one year they had everything laid out like ancient Egypt. Which could be any of them, right? I was staying overnight for a convention and didn't have anything better to do, so I went over to this convention to gamble a while. Now, as it happens, John Gavanti was playing there that night -- but I didn't know that when I went in. If I'd known, I would have been in the audience, right? So after losing way too much money at the craps table, I went to the restroom to wash up before going back to my hotel. And before I left, I decided to take a leak, right? So I'm standing there, doing my business, when the door opens behind me. I look back and these two goons the size of Mack trucks are walking up to me. I'm going "I think I'm about to get mugged" and all of a sudden, there he is at the urinal next to me. John Gavanti. His hair was perfect. His sunglasses were polished like black diamonds. I told him his third album was the greatest thing ever recorded, that I had grown up listening to it, and he just nodded. I think he smiled, but I'm not sure. Then I zipped up my fly and he was gone. Just in and out, like that. Like the wind. It was the greatest moment of my life.

TASCAM-Girl speaks with Thuc Noc Nam, John Gavanti's gardener:

TG: How long have you been working on Mister Gavanti's estate?

TNN: Oh, many years. Ever since I came from Saigon at the end of the Vietnam war.

TG: And you're the head gardener, correct?

TNN: That is correct, yes. I oversee a dozen gardeners. His estate is quite large.

TG: I would assume, then, that you know Mister Gavanti fairly well?

TNN: Oh no, not at all. In fact, I have never actually met him. I was hired by one of his assistants. I do see him from time to time, however, as he is coming and going. He always waves. Such a friendly man!

TG: Let me get this straight -- you've worked for him for nearly three decades and you've never even met him?

TNN: Few people are allowed to meet Mister Gavanti. He lives in a world, a very small world, of his own making. And why should he want to talk to me? He is a great artist, I am a lowly gardener. What would we have to talk about, really?

TG: So have you at least heard his music?

TNN: Oh, of course. I have all of his fine albums. He is truly one of the greatest artists alive today. It is a privilege to work for him. When I was first hired and wrote back to Vietnam to let my family know of my new employer, they were all most impressed.

TG: They've heard of John Gavanti in Vietnam?

TNN: But of course! The name John Gavanti is known everywhere. Even in the Amazon Basin, the tribesmen frequently copulate to his stunning albums.

TG: Uhhhhhh.... okay.

TNN: To those who have heard him, his greatness is never in question.

The Antichrist speaks with Billy "Zoom" Rake, L.A. session guitarist:

TA: You worked with Mister Gavanti on his first album, correct?

BR: That's right, man. Still the most electrifying session I ever saw. You ain't seen nothing until you've seen John Gavanti, up close and personal, doing his thing. I think the studio, after that session, they retired his microphone. They have it in a glass case up front now, man.

TA: What's your impression of the man, then?

BR: That's one smooth dude. He didn't say much, but the cat had it under wraps.

TASCAM-Girl speaks with Zoot Allures, saxophonist for John Gavanti:

TG: How long have you worked with Mister Gavanti?

ZA: I've played on all but one of his albums. I missed out on the seventh one because I was laid up in the hospital -- a freak snowboarding accident, I don't really remember much about it, to tell you the truth -- but all the rest of them, I was there.

TG: So you've known him for quite a while, then.

ZA: Oh yes. I actually had seen him around town before he even had a band together, back when he was still working at the Astro Kleen Air factory. That's how I met him, actually. I knew someone who worked on the assembly line, and he came to me one evening just raving about this co-worker who was a musical genius. I was intrigued enough to check him out, and once we started working together... the chemistry was just, I can't tell you how unbelievable it was. Especially the first band, the one on that first album -- to my ears, he said everything that needed to be said right there. It's like the first album is the masterpiece and all the ones after are just refinements of the program, if you see what I mean.

TG: So you must know him pretty well, then.

ZA: Oh no, not at all. You don't understand -- the man is unknowable. I just show up and blow my horn when he nods in my direction, that's all. We've been playing together for eternity and I think he's said maybe a dozen words to me in that time. He did send me a get-well card while I was in the hospital, though.

The Antichrist speaks with Chaim Berkowitz, the legendary Dallas concert promoter:

TA: I understand you've been trying to book Mister Gavanti for a Dallas appearance for some time now.

CB: Right, right, I keep ringing up his management and they keep promising to have him show up, but then... it's always some disaster at the last minute. Truly I am cursed.

TA: What kind of disasters?

CB: Oh, one time he was scheduled to appear for a big show, and the day of the concert, the hall's stagehands all went on strike, so he canceled. We tried another appearance later, but the day before he was to arrive, the entire state was crippled by a power outage. One time he actually go as far as appearing on the stage when a fire broke out and the entire hall had to be evacuated. And I'll never forget the time we booked him for a major festival and he had to back out because his entire band had been crippled by the bora-bora virus while touring in Brazil....

TA: So I would assume you've given up on booking him?

CB: Oh no, no, not at all. We'll keep trying. What else can we do? I mean, seriously, he's John Gavanti. It's an embarrassment to the fine city of Dallas that he's never been able to play here. It's just, I mean, really, it's totally ridiculous. In fact, I was just on the phone with his manager last week -- we had him booked to play the biggest hall in town, but the tickets sold out as soon as they went on sale and there was a riot and a lot of bad press about the venue and so his manager pulled him out. But that's okay. I know we'll manage to get him on a stage here someday.

TASCAM-Girl speaks with Leonard Pazuzu, head of John Gavanti's record label:

TG: Is it really true that you've never actually met Mister Gavanti, even though he's released over a dozen albums on your label?

LP: That's absolutely correct, yes.

TG: Isn't that a little bit deranged? How many albums has he made for you, anyway?

LP: Twelve or thirteen, I forget. He's our biggest artist, certainly.

TG: And still you haven't met him.

LP: What would be the point? He's John Gavanti. He sings, he turns in an album, we make millions. To actually meet him would upset the natural balance of things, don't you think?

TG: What I think is that all of you people are completely insane. Is this guy for real? Or is he a ghost?

LP: He is John Gavanti. He does what he pleases, when it pleases him.