Eddie Lee Sausage, interviewed by Fish Taco Magazine : Interviews with Eddie Lee, Peter Haskett - Shut Up, Little Man!
Eddie Lee Sausage, interviewed by Fish Taco Magazine — Spring/Summer 2003, conducted by Señor Stinky
Fish Taco: Tell me a little bit about yourself. . .
Eddie Lee: I am a writer, artist, audio verite musician, and white boy bookseller.
Fish Taco: OK, without being too bnb bb b specific [or not], where was the apartment located, and in what year did this go down?
Eddie Lee: The recordings were captured at 237 Steiner, in the pre-gentrification alcoholic haven of the Lower Haight between November 1987 and April 1989. We lived in a motel-like rotting structure that was painted a sickly pink; thus we christened the place “The Pepto Bismol Palace.”
Fish Taco: How old were you at the time?
Eddie Lee: I was a somewhat romantic-notioned, thrill-seekin' 23 year old moving from the Midwest to the 'Big City.'
Fish Taco: Do they still live there?
Eddie Lee: Peter and Raymond have been deceased for several years now.
Fish Taco: What kind of landlord was it, that would let shit go on day and night without doing something about it?
Eddie Lee: The landlord was a diminutive Asian woman named Nancy Lee [no relation]. She was essentially an absentee landlord, as I believe I saw her but once in the year and a half that we lived there. After we signed the lease, as she was stepping outside the apartment and heading for her car, she turned and noted: “sometimes the neighbors are a little loud.” Mitch and I laughed and said: “No problem.” We were into cranking punk rock music at blistering levels, so we thought that living next to people who were loud would diminish any expectations of us being, proper, quiet, respectful bourgeoisie. Of course, we had no idea that we were moving next to a 24-hour WWF drunkfest.
Fish Taco: Was your first run-in with Pete or Ray?
Eddie Lee: I first Ran into Ray. He was smoking a cig out on the veranda area that the apartments shared. He was very cordial, though a little muted in his communication. About two weeks later, I had a nasty run-in with Ray at about 4 AM, after a marathon fight between the two. I'd had enough and was so crazed by sleeplessness and persistent aural agitation that I tried to kick their door down. I weighed about 115 pounds at the time, so I got a running start and kicked the door as hard as I could repeatedly. That was when Raymond yelled at me through the door that he was a killer before I was born and he would be a killer after I was dead. Of course, I don't know what I would have done if I had actually broken down the door. But, you don't think of these things when you are as maniacally under-rested and as inflamed as I was.
Fish Taco: I'm taking it that “The Skinny Cocksucker Next Door” was Ray's term of endearment for you?
Eddie Lee: Yeah.