Henry Rollins

HIS REPUTATION most definitely precedes him. The press's perception of Henry Rollins has always been somewhat fractious. Journalists have always been suspicious, and on occasion almost derisory, of Henry's boundless intensity, his fondness for the gym, sober lifestyle and Spartan work ethic. He's been perpetually pigeonholed as a renaissance rottweiller with delusions of Nietzschean supremacy, a man whose dark eyes, imposing demeanour and soul-searching stare will almost dare you to look away. Yet how does the squat, driven soul who sits before us, sipping occasionally at a bottle of mineral water between prolonged flights of garrulous erudition, feel about his Hard-Ass Hank reputation?