North Shore native, CiTR radio stalwart, celebrity slayer, rock band frontman. No matter what pompom-topped tam o’ shanter he wears, this beloved Vancouver icon is unabashedly, proudly Canadian.
Rebecca Bollwitt
Writer
From Harry Styles to Kurt Cobain, Billie Eilish to Pierre Trudeau and Mikhail Gorbachev, Nardwuar the Human Serviette has not only been scoring coveted interviews and sound bites for more than 30 years, his research and knowledge of each artist, celebrity, or politician’s history is unmatched. Through his fill-in-the-blank throwback questions and thoughtful gifts of personal ephemera, he evokes authentic and earnest responses from his subjects. This incredible talent and perseverance has elevated him and his interviews to “GOAT” (Greatest of All Time) status online.
Megaphone recently had the opportunity to meet with this Vancouver media icon to chat about how the music industry has changed over the years, his favourite interview ever and the origins of “doot doola doot doo, doot doo.”
• • •
“Welcome to 2021,” Nardwuar The Human Serviette says while taking a seat on a well-worn loveseat in Vancouver’s legendary Neptoon Records on Main Street. It’s 2024, but he’s been playing catch-up on interviews and content production since the pandemic hit. The hard-working and incredibly humble human found a moment to sit on the other side of the microphone in the record store basement, which is lined wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling with vinyl
If you’ve ever wondered where Nardwuar feels most in his element, this is it — or even more so at ubiquitous UBC independent radio station, CiTR 101.9FM.
And if you’ve ever wondered about the name, he offers a simple explanation:
Nardwuar = a dumb word.
Human = a reference to The Cramps’ song, Human Fly.
Serviette = because in the U.S., they call them napkins, and Nardwuar is unabashedly, proudly Canadian.
Nardwuar starts every interview with three simple words, “Who are you?” which is really something because his subjects are often world-renown, internationally acclaimed, top-of-the-charts celebrities. This disarming style evokes some of the best answers — and interviews — entertainment journalism has ever seen.
“The first compilation record I put out was called, Oh God, My Mom’s on Channel 10! because that was the title that came to me when I came home from school,” he says.
Nardwuar (née John Ruskin) grew up in West Vancouver, on Vancouver’s North Shore. His mother, a teacher and historian, was part of a show called Our Pioneers Our Neighbour on local access Shaw Cable. Her influence, along with his affinity for the college campus radio station, laid the foundation for what would become his remarkable, ongoing career.
“She would interview the next-door neighbour and get their life story, and I would be like, ‘the neighbour? Why don’t you talk to a big celebrity?’” Nardwuar recalls.
She told him that even the neighbour has an interesting story.
“She inspired me. Like, everybody has a story — just draw out their story.”
Nardwuar would get teased by his friends at school when they saw his mom on TV, but later realized how cool that actually was. Shaw Cable also had a groundbreaking video show called Soundproof where they showcased local bands, with the musicians playing live.
“It had been running since the late ’70s I think, and a lot of cool bands would play there, like the Young Canadians, the Subhumans, the Modernettes. They played those old videos over and over again because they owned the rights to them. It was like a video show — with Martyn Stubbs and Dave Toddington, even before MuchMusic or Good Rockin’ Tonite,” Nardwuar says.
As president of Hillside Secondary School’s student council, Nardwuar would get requests from fellow students who were also tuned into Soundproof and wanted him to get some of those bands to play their school dances.
“I didn’t know anything about music but people would make recommendations from watching the show.”
After graduation, Nardwuar wanted to try and work on Soundproof but the way things worked at the station, you had to volunteer by covering council meetings first.
“I wasn’t too good at filming council meetings. I remember laughing once. ‘You have to hold the camera!’ and my camera was just shaking and they were like, ‘What the hell is going on?’. Eventually I just ended up going to McDonald’s to buy the crew food.”
Along with Soundproof, CiTR radio at the University of B.C. was also a huge influence on Nardwuar and his classmates, who would tape it and give him suggestions about which bands to book for high school dances. When he started attending UBC himself in September of 1986, Nardwuar says it was natural for him to get involved with the radio station.
“I was like, ‘I can see the actual DOA record that somebody taped off CiTR, and I listened to that tape! I can be part of that!’ It felt so natural, and all this cool music was there,” he says.
Before entering the hallowed halls of the campus radio station, it was tough to get his hands on music
“Nowadays, it’s in your hand, in your pocket, but back then it was really hard to get music. But you could join CiTR and get access to their record library and play all those tunes.”
While some joined the station to get involved with news or sports, it was always about the music for Nardwuar.
“I was just happy to listen to music at lunch hour, eating my lunch, and it was really exciting, it was really hard and it was really rare to be able to listen to music. Just imagine having this,” he says while gesturing at Neptoon’s shelves. “You’re 17 or 18 years old, you’re a member of CiTR and you have access to all this — when your collection was only a tiny bit of that at home.”
It was the station that really gave him a chance, and it’s still making dreams and careers to this day.
“You can go back to those records, I can look at those records and be like, ‘See that grease mark? I was listening to that record in the listening room when I was eating my cheese sandwich. It was a place that welcomed you and gave everybody a shot.”
He initially just tried hosting a straight-up music show, but that was too much work.
“Especially if you’re playing punk rock tunes, like two minutes long or like Buddy Holly, it’s pretty quick! It was so easy for me to do a show after I decided not to play music but just turn on the mic, speak, play one song, you’re over.”
Eventually Nardwuar did get his chance on Soundproof on Shaw Cable television too. He says he contributed “little interviews,” but those included a 1994 meeting with Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love at the PNE Forum. The thing is, at that time, the audience reach of the local cable access station was limited.
“Sometimes Soundproof was broadcast in Downtown Vancouver,” Nardwuar says with awe. “Or even in Surrey or Maple Ridge, you know, different suburbs. That was like the reach of CiTR radio. Like 1.5 million people could possibly listen to the station, but I don’t think that many people really did because [the signal] really wasn’t that powerful at the time, it was like 50 watts. It had potential.”
Nobody could hear his content through the “World Wide Web” just yet.
“When I released Oh God, My Mom’s On Channel 10! in 1989, I have interview snippets on that record. There was an interview with me and Jello Biafra, me and Joey Shithead, me and Jeff Conolly, etc. So I put those interview snippets on vinyl, but that was the only way for people to hear my interviews.”
Nardwuar pressed the vinyl himself and shipped the records out to different radio stations. Today, all you have to do is upload.
“I think some people take it for granted that it was so hard to get stuff out there,” he says.
In every Nardwuar interview — from radio or television, to videos with millions of views on YouTube — the subject, at some point, is completely blown away by what Nardwuar knows. Reaching back into the early days of their career or their childhood, Nardwuar pitches pointed questions, and on occasion, gives gifts drenched in nostalgia.
He credits his mother’s influence first, then CiTR inspired him to really want to do his research, he says.
“People listening to CiTR radio weren’t afraid to tell you that you sucked. They’d call in and say, ‘This sucks, you’re boring!’ so that inspired me to do the interviews. And I better be ready to do those interviews.”
To prepare, in the early days, Nardwuar would check out the press clippings at CiTR. These were saved from newspapers, magazines like Melody Maker and others, and someone at the radio station took the time to put all of these bits and pieces together and organize them in an archive for each artist at the station.
His passion for being well-researched goes beyond being properly prepared. For Nardwuar, it comes down to respect for each artist he interviews.
“I think probably the minute that I don’t know what to do, like the minute I say, ‘I don’t need to check out the press kit,’ is probably the minute I should quit because it shows I don’t care.”
Nardwuar’s interviews range from world leaders, to up-and-coming musicians, movie stars to punk legends, and his schedule is a mix of his wish list and who’s available, who’s in town, or who’s playing a festival or major event he’s attending.
Rock and roll radio has his heart; he is after all the frontman for garage rock band The Evaporators, formed in 1986, but it’s his hip-hop interviews that have been gaining the most traction online lately, particularly on TikTok.
The first time he heard rap was back in the early days of that genre, when N.W.A. was played on CiTR.
“CiTR put on a rap battle of the bands called DJ Sound War, headlined by E.Q. Plus the Rascalz were heavily involved with it, too.”
How does Nardwuar stay current? By being a part of different organizations (such as the radio station) and by jumping into a music scene that helps expand his knowledge.
“I’m always looking forward to learning more just by listening to what’s happening,” he says.
As a music lover through and through, it’s the mix of genres, covers and samples that intrigue and delight Nardwuar the most.
“I love the fact that when I interviewed Vince Staples, he samples Bobby Taylor and the Vancouvers featuring Tommy Chong, a Vancouver band. I love the fact that some of the rap samples cover a classic or obscure band,” he says.
“The Cramps, a lot of the time, would do covers of old ’50s rockabilly bands. Bands were trying to imitate, say, like Buddy Holly. They did great covers like Hasil Adkins, they did another song called Uranium Rock, like all these classic covers of bands. I like the fact that they did obscure covers and now here is hip-hop sampling. Not that the Vancouvers were obscure, but like reviving older songs. I love that. I love that they’re covering and doing that, and that attracts me [to the genre] as well.”
He’s been featured in The New York Times and Time Magazine, and has more than 13 million followers online across YouTube, TikTok, X and Instagram, but navigating the intricate media landscape — even almost 40 years into his career — isn’t always easy.
“Jay-Z was 2008, Kendrik Lamar was 2012, Travis Scott was 2015, Ice Spice is 2023. You could probably get all those in a week in L.A., but for me, it’s been a long time.”
You would think at this point, artists would be lining up to get “Nardwuared.”
“Some people have approached me,” he says. “I remember in 2016 Drake said, ‘Would you like to do another interview?’ I talked to him in 2010. In 2010, Drake helped set up an interview with Lil Wayne for me too, so that was amazing.”
Pharell Williams was so impressed by Nardwuar’s skills in 2008, he connected him with Jay-Z just a few months later.
“This is one of the most impressive interviews I’ve ever experienced in my life. Seriously,” Williams told Nardwuar during their interview. “Your research is second-to-none. Second-to-none.”
Nardwuar says in general it is still hard to get an interview, especially now with social media, because people don’t feel they have to do interviews, they can just talk into their phone and publish online themselves.
“There’s that Latin term: Volenti non fit injuria,” says Nardwuar, illustrating a point about music media.
It means to a willing person, injury is not done.
“I’ve put on many rock and roll gigs and people will be slam dancing, and if you jump in the pit, you’re going to get slammed. It’s the same with the media.”
He says once you’ve decided to be part of it all, you have to be able to roll with the punches — from other media, the interviews and the audience.
“I should expect that and if I don’t like, it well I can quit. I do realize there is that aspect of it.”
He’s in the fight pit now, but he laughs and says he’s wearing a whole bunch of pads to make sure he’s going to be OK.
“I’m more prepared now to go into the pit, but it’s still the pit.”
While appreciating how hard it was for him to make breakthroughs, and continue to get in the ring each time, Nardwuar encourages the next generation.
“People will come to me and say, “I did an interview, only four people watched my interview” and I’m like, ‘Four people? That’s excellent!’ When I aired my Nirvana interview, audio only, guess how many people phoned in on CiTR? Zero. Nobody cared. You’re doing your interview and four world-wide people had the chance to hear it? Amazing! You have the power to create, the world is at your fingertips now.”
“I would love to talk to Barack Obama… a politician, he is number-one on the wish list,” Nardwuar says.
He said he’s been trying for years to make it happen and it’s probably an interview everyone would like to see — in particular because Nardwuar usually busts out the “Hip Flip” game with politicians. It’s a double-sided apparatus with hands on both ends where the two participants, or dancers, gyrate their hips to keep a spinnable hanging plastic piece in motion between them.
Seriously, Google Nardwuar and Hip Flip to see Nardwuar in action with the likes of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, former NDP leader Jack Layton, former B.C. premier Christy Clark and so many more.
“Dr. Dre, even Dave Grohl of the Foo Fighters… I’ve tried to talk to him since I talked to Nirvana in 1994 and I’ve had no luck, so it is hard but that’s life right? Also it’s the entertainment business.”
There are many people Nardwuar would still like to talk to, and some unfortunately are dearly departed. One of his favourite interviews ever was with James Brown.
“I did an interview with him in November of 1999 and he also played a song for me, Try Me, with backup singers.”
Nardwuar held the microphone for Brown as he sang the song.
“I was like the human mic stand and he was looking right in my eyes. Now when I look back at that it’s like, ‘Oh my God.’ Even then it was like, ‘He’s looking right in my eyes — this is James Brown singing to me.’ I could not believe it. That really stands out to me as an interview, he’s such a legend.”
Each Oct. 31, Instagram is flooded with Nardwuar look-alikes, featuring his signature plaid pants, a patterned shirt, a pompom-topped tam-o’-shanter and a microphone.
“When people dress up like me, I love it. I love it! I will never stop loving it!” he says.
People don’t just love Nardwuar, they want to be like him through dressing up on Halloween, doing remixes on TikTok, or getting his likeness tattooed on their body.
“I’m so honoured by that I can’t believe that. It was incredible with all those people doing that. It’s so nice to get that feedback. I remember for Soundproof, I was excited when it was airing on the North Shore. Oh it might air Downtown?”
Nardwuar claps and jumps.
“You heard CiTR in Richmond? Oh that’s amazing!”
He throws his hands in the air.
“You heard us in Bellingham? That’s amazing!”
Now, he’s global.
Doot Doola Doot Doo…
Every Nardwuar interview ends with him leading the subject with: “Doot doola doot doo…” to the tune of Shave and a Haircut and putting the microphone over to them to finish it off with a hearty: “Doot doo.”
Most clue in, while the occasional guest will make up their own line or end the interview leaving our hero hanging.
“What usually happens on call-in shows when people phone in? Does the host ever say goodbye? I would say, ‘Thanks for calling in and Doot doola doot doo’ and then move onto the next caller. I respected that somebody phoned in so I’m going to give them some respect,” Nardwuar says.
“That’s what I love about social media, with people commenting. Sometimes it takes a bit of guts to phone into a station, but now it’s really easy for them to get the feedback. But that’s the reason I go, “Doot doola doot doo, doot doo,’ and I got that from a hockey game. ’Cause you know the organist would play, ‘Doot doola doot doo, doot doo’.”
In every Nardwuar interview, aside from the opening, “Who are you?” he also states his location: Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, which comes back to his radio show.
“Hey, it’s Nardwuar the Human Serviette, you’re listening to CiTR FM 102 cable 102 Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.”
Station identification aside, it’s also Nardwuar’s home town, where he’s organized, played and covered rock shows for decades. The biggest change over the last four decades has been shrinking real estate available for live music venues. His favourite spots were always all-ages venues, from his time as a high school organizer all the way to giving the musical kids of today a chance to get on stage and be heard.
“The Red Gate on Main I think is one of the few places kids can play. I think it’s amazing that they have access to a place like that,” he says.
Hall gigs have always been a favourite.
“I loved hall gigs. You could rent the Cinderella Ballroom, you could rent out the Hastings Community Centre, you could do a gig at the Arcadian Hall or at Patsy’s on Main.”
He loved the excitement of organizing hall gigs because you never knew what might happen.
“I’m not really up to that now, but those really… I have a lot of memories.”
From putting on gigs at North Van Rec Centre in 1991 with Fugazi, or being a 22-year-old hosting a show for 5,000-6,000 people featuring Grant Lawrence’s Smugglers, Nardwuar loved that these weren’t corporate gigs and that in 1990-1991, before the grunge explosion, it was easier to book those kinds of bands, even by just phoning them up personally — before they all got agents.
“Remember Howden Ballroom? It was another giant hall which was at the foot of Granville Street. I think Greenday and Beck played there. The Croatian Cultural Centre… I loved gigs there too because the Commodore had closed down.”
The Commodore Ballroom on Granville, open since 1929, closed in 1996 and reopened three years later under the House of Blues banner after millions of dollars in renovations. Today it’s a Live Nation venue.
“I think it was good because it caused venues to open up and they could do all ages. I kind of like the idea of the venue being off the beaten path too, I love that,” Nardwuar says.
“The Commodore is really incredible though. Legendary! From hosting the first North American gig of The Clash in 1979 to, um, 40 years later, hosting me and The Evaporators for my Nard Gets a Star all-ages concert celebrating Nardwuar Day in Vancouver (Sept. 29, 2019 ) and my induction into the BC Entertainment Hall of Fame!”
Nardwuar himself might be back on stage soon, with The Evaporators.
“I hope to get that happening, I still have some ideas. Stephen Hamm, has been doing lots with the Theramin Man, and Nick Thomas has been playing in the Vicious Cycles as well, they’re great musicians to do stuff with. Shawn Mrazek has been drumming and playing in bands so they’re ready. I guess I have to be ready, too.”
Watching a Nardwuar interview with your favourite artist or a random celebrity might make you laugh, cry, shout with joy, cringe, beam with happiness and laugh again. Nardwuar is kind, he’s quirky, he’s totally and completely unique, lovable and endearing. He brings so much joy to his audiences, but what brings him the most joy?
“Just knowing that people appreciate what I do brings me joy. And I hope that I can inspire people: ‘Hey if Nardwuar can do it, I can do it.’ That brings me joy.”
He loves feedback, thrives on it in fact, and it inspires him to do more and keep doing what he’s doing.
“I think back to the days of when nobody cared, nobody would phone in. To get feedback all these years later, and bring back things like the Nirvana interview, it’s fun.”
That, and cheese.
“Now aside from that, I do enjoy cheese. ’Cause I got a disease, I’m addicted to cheese,’ so I do love cheese, but I tried to cut back because it kind of clogs your arteries as you get older, but on new year’s I had some cheese, and what you do on New Year’s Eve you do all year ’round, so maybe I will be eating cheese.”
And that’s who Nardwuar is. A walking, talking human encyclopedia of pop culture knowledge that lives and breathes music, who wants us all to succeed and can’t help but make us smile.
Now 55, Nardwuar has now been at CiTR for almost 38 years, but retirement isn’t an option because he’ll always love what he does — and there’s still so much to do.
“Touch wood! There are still a lot of people to interview, a lot of legends have passed away, so you kind of have to hurry and do those interviews don’t you?”
He mentions Little Richard and Tina Turner, who left us in recent years.
“There’s just so much to document.”
Humbly, he says the only reason he stands out as someone who’s done it this long is that others have dropped out, but you shouldn’t ever do that if you love what you do.
“As long as I’m physically able… I’ll be in the old folks’ home with a microphone talking to somebody. As long as I can, I’ll talk to people. Again, if I can do it, anybody can. Hopefully other people will be inspired to do stuff. It’s that easy.”
Browse Nardwuar’s Video Vault at Nardwuar.com and tune into Nardwuar’s show on CiTR radio on Fridays at 3:30 p.m.
Rebecca Bollwitt
Writer
Rebecca Bollwitt has been writing about events and travel in B.C. since 2004 on the multi-award-winning blog Miss604.com. With 25 years of digital publishing experience, she has co-authored and technically edited five books on the subject, and founded her own agency which assists clients across North America with their social media strategies and website development. Community is at the heart of her mission, and Rebecca partners with and sponsors campaigns for more than 20 charities each year. She also serves as a board executive for two local non-profit organizations.
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