Jim’s Big Ego
An interview with Jim Infantino
by Ryk McIntyre
My Dream Date with Jim’s Big Ego
The idea was to interview local songwriter/performer/unique being Jim Infantino. No problem, I thought, just pick up the phone, talk to him, arrange a time and place and do it. Jim liked the “idea.” We chatted on quite amicably; I wrote down relevant bits of info and bio; it was going fine. Dammit, it should’ve been a cake walk.
I have no recollection of falling asleep, I swear. But the interview kept going…
I found myself in a big old dark green car, hurtling down the roads of Jim’s soul while behind the wheel what looked like Jim hunkered down, crafty and naughty. But it wasn’t Jim… it was his Big Ego.
“Ya know,” it said toothily, “I’m happy for Jim. Did you know in October he was voted Songwriter of the Year by the National Academy of Songwriters? ‘S right! And he has a new album coming out in January ’96!” With that, he sent the car into a series of turns at angles that would’ve horrified Euclides, then eased back to a gentle glide. Just liked Jim’s music at times, I mused.
“So Jim’s from New York, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Big Ego gurgled, “started out in 1980. His first gig was around the time John Lennon died… spooky, huh?” With that, Big Ego smiled, then went back to driving. I like it better when he just drove.
“He moved to Boston around 1988. Under the cover of the collaborative End Construction Productions, Jim gained a following, recording contracts, friends, girls, money, EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED… uh, I mean he wanted, until in 1992 when the prototype band, Jim’s Big Ego (love that name!), first claimed a stage. Between ’92 and now he’s perfected the line-up, songs and haircut that will allow him to rule. Open mikes open to him, featured sets shine their light on him, people give him money!”
“Wasn’t he on ‘Funny Songwriters’?”
“LISTEN!” Big E shouted, “Stop calling him a ‘funny songwriter’ – we hate that! He’s not funny, I mean not just funny, he’s intelligent, whimsical, insinuative, sneaky. I hate hearing Jim reduced to ‘funny’ it’s not like he’s ‘funny ha-ha’ like…”
“Funny like a Buddhist?” I offered.
Big Ego grinned, “I could like you kid… you a poet? Thought so. I could smell it.
“Being in a band offers Jim the chance to have his hands free for harmonica, his arms free for a kimbo, and his mouth open for spoken word. Mostly, he just likes being louder. Just wait ’til the album comes out and you hear what he’s done with “Butthead” or “Bite Me Hard” or the always-a-hit “Lionel Say.”
“I understand that along with the album, Jim’s hidden a poem somewhere.”
“Yeah,” Big Ego hummed, “but that’s all the time you get. Hope I’ve helped you.”
“Wait! At least tell me the album’s title!”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Big Ego smiled a smile that’d make a shark incontinent and said, “More Songs About Me!” The door closed; the car drove off. I stood in the dark, a phone receiver in my hand.
