“I’m you and you me.”’
– The Naked Cowboy
The Naked Cowboy, a modern legend of metropolis, hits the pavement playing his guitar. Times Square hums, the center of the world. Thousands of people pass by everyday. Still, even the most jaded of New Yorker stops to take a look.
In a place that has seen the likes of Dylan, Dean and Brando a guy in only his underwear and a ten gallon hat stands out. Why wouldn’t he? The Naked Cowboy owns the build of a pro wrestler and a public persona to match. The man calls himself, “the most glorious thing in the world.”
For him attention is, “the ultimate pleasure.”
Here’s a passage from The Naked Cowboy Prayer Book. “God, I want to radiate genius. I want to be so intellectually gifted as to turn on miraculous ideas spontaneously at all times pertaining to anything and everything I do.”
Yes there is a The Naked Cowboy Prayer Book.
When the Editor-in-Chief of Severe first pitched me the idea for these profiles he said something about beautiful women. I jumped at it. Visions of arriving at the Playboy Mansion to interview the newest playmate filled my head. Like a scene from the Weezer video for “Beverly Hills,” Hef and I would party with his girls. I’d wake up hung over, wearing silk pajamas.
Somehow I ended up on the phone with a guy who calls himself The Naked Cowboy.
The idea behind this bare skinned troubadour came about in 1998. Robert Burck was performing on Venice Beach, dressed in full western gear, singing and playing guitar. It wasn’t’ going well .
“People ignored me,” he says.
A friend suggested he strip down to his underwear. The Naked Cowboy was born. It was then that he, “started making money and got on television.” Burck remade himself into star, setting the bar high.
“I want the overall symbol of this intellectual genius, ‘Naked Cowboy’, to be marketed, advertised, mass produced, sold, rented, leased, licensed, begged, borrowed and stolen in an effort to unceasingly distribute its glorious message for all to rise to meet for all time.”
These are the words of a character who left behind Robert Burck from Ohio long ago somewhere on the road from Venice Beach to Times Square.
When I got in touch with him he was on vacation in Florida with his girlfriend Cindy who he calls, “the Queen of the Universe.” I caught him early in the day. In the background I heard the sounds of breakfast. Right away he said, “my life’s a vacation.”
I wasn’t sure what to expect from a guy who makes his living as part sex symbol, part NYC icon and part busker. On a daily basis tourist fill his cowboy boots with dollar bills. Yet, he talks about, “intellectual genius?”
I started to explain who I was and what Severe was all about. He brushed me off and dove right into his philosophy. All my preconceived ideas evaporated. They disappeared like the inhibitions of a blue haired old lady when The Naked Cowboy grabs her butt. For nearly two hours we went back and forth. I did a lot of listening, soaking up the surprisingly perceptive and useful words of a man who tries to, “celebrate every moment.”
As a youth he fell into trouble with the law due to his,“drive to cause problems.” Even then he says, “everything I did was legend.” When first touring in his tighty-whities he stopped in places like Nashville, Atlanta, Jacksonville and Los Angeles. His stints in these cities often ended in arrest. The world wasn’t ready for The Naked Cowboy but it all came together when he landed in New York.
Our conversation swerved like Courtney Love behind the wheel. He often quoted from self-help books like Unlimited Power by Anthony Robbins and How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie. I’ve read both but only so I can tell when someone uses their techniques on me. However, the muscle bound Naked Cowboy would then win me over again, quoting Emerson with the stone cold seriousness of a well read man.
He tried to impart some of his hard won, world weary wisdom upon me, explaining the secret behind performing in his underwear. “I don’t fear death,” he said.
I detected some Buddhist in him. In the end, the Naked Cowboy says our bodies are, “just dust.” Therefore you mine as well, “be true.” If you rid yourself of the fear of losing things you become free to, “feel what you are.”
Of course this isn’t what I expected from him. What about tales from the road? What about the groupies?
He continued with his monologue. “We already are what we truly want to be. Forget doubt, fear and evil. Refuse to give them power.” These are the words of a man who sings in his underwear at the busiest spot in the world. Yet, it makes sense. In a cosmic way his words jive with the fact that The Naked Cowboy act includes “bending an old lady over and slapping her on the ass.”
When performing he tries to give everyone who sees him something. It can be a photo with huge dude, a brush with celebrity or a kind word.
“Even people who don’t like it get something out of it,” he says. “It’s all about new possibilities for them. I want to reach more people than anyone in the world.”
As he drove on I attempted to reel him in. It was a hopeless task. We bounced from tangent to tangent, building up on topics and dropping others. For a long time I thought he was putting me on but no one is that good an actor. More than once he said, “I know all the answers.”
Sure why not? I collapsed under the Naked Cowboy’s verbal weight. All arguments faded. I decided to sit back and go with it.
He explained that his daily routine includes hours of reading, working out and performing. All of it is meant to revitalize himself in order to become a “symbol” and take over, “all of pop culture.” At the very least the man could bullshit me for while. In one breath he talked about Nietzsche and the next he referenced the bible.
The Naked Cowboy on Jesus: “I’m doing the exact same thing.” Once again the conversation ran up the the edge of the absurd. The comparisons turned out to be more of a road map on how to go out day after day to meet the people. He’s not a Charles Manson type.
Still we hadn’t hit on his ultimate goal. “What,” I asked, “is the Naked Cowboy a symbol for?”
I could feel a shift over the phone as if we’d gotten down to the whole point of The Naked Cowboy. While he thought it over I got a few words in. “You do what ever you want, whenever you want,” I said. “You are living the American Dream.”
The Naked Cowboy stopped me, “No” he said, “It’s not the American Dream. It’s the human dream. The United States is the only country where it’s possible but it’s one all humans share.”
He really got rolling, explaining what he was all about and what The Naked Cowboy’s mission was. “You are total life of immortality at all times,” he said. “Most people become happy materialist with the kids, the house, and the job. They take the easy road out of fear. They bind themselves and live in fear of living the lives they want.”
For him there’s no room for, “I didn’t have a chance.” He told me, “Doubt is just an illusion.”
Forget all the new age lingo. Down at the core that’s the dream: freedom to do it your way. Forget the cares and worries that might be holding you back. Here’s life, now live it with an undying and indomitable belief in yourself. At least that’s what I got out of talking with him.
He’s creating a legend of freedom for people to look towards and be inspired by. All of his effort focuses on being the voice of individualism. To do that he chose his own unique brand of street performance. It sounds wild but I bought it. The Naked Cowboy, in a fractured zen master way, pulls it off.
I thanked him for his time. Then, in one of those moments that clings to your psyche, right before the receiver went dead he left me with the words, “Be the king.”
Sounds good to me.
This article was set to run in the late great Severe Magazine. And thanks to the amazing people at www.burlesonbrownphotography.com for providing the photo and a magnet that still hangs on my fridge.