BETHEL – “Weird Al” Yankovic is more than just a guy who plays rock ‘n’ roll on his accordion and makes song parodies about food. He’s a pop culture icon, an inspiration to comedians, musicians, and is worshipped by fans who are willing to show their affection by tattooing their entire back with his face.  

He’s the third music performer, after Michael Jackson and Madonna, to have a top 40 single in each decade since the ‘80s, with parodies like “Eat It,” “Like a Surgeon,” and “Amish Paradise,” as well as a polka mashup of songs from the musical Hamilton.

Now, 46 years after his first big hit, “My Bologna,” first came out, “Weird Al” is back with his “Bigger & Weider” tour that includes a stop on Sunday, July 13 at Bethel Woods Center for the Arts. 

In an exclusive interview with The Democrat, “Weird Al” shared his thoughts about his music, his inspiration, and his desire to continue making his fans happy.

Barry Lewis: With the sensitive nature and political correctness of people these days, would “Weird Al” be able to start a parody career in 2025?

“Weird Al” Yankovic: That’s an interesting question. There’s some material that I did perhaps in the 80s and 90s, that if I was starting from scratch, I probably wouldn’t be doing it now. I’d like to think that I could still use some of that material because I’m grandfathered in and it’s assumed as nostalgic. It’s hard to say. I don’t think my material is really offensive. I certainly don’t try to be offensive. I don’t rail against political correctness because I think a lot of what people consider political correctness is just being mindful of people’s feelings. I don’t want to upset or hurt anybody, that’s not in my nature, and if I can avoid that I certainly will. 

BL: You’ve said you don’t have to, but you ask artists for their permission to parody their songs. 

WA: The courts have generally ruled in favor of parody artists over the years, but I never wanted to get into a situation where I am sued because we live in a litigious society where anybody can sue anybody for anything anytime. So it’s partly me not wanting to get embroiled into any legal entanglement, partly because I want to be respectful of the songwriters and their feelings. If the songwriter doesn’t want me to do a parody, I will back off. I’ve never forced the issue and I always ask permission if they’re OK with the parody. Nearly all cases, the answer has been yes.

BL: The original song often gets more attention after you parody it. That doesn’t hurt the artist.

WA: I was told by somebody in Nirvana’s camp back in the ‘90s that when my parody of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” came out, Nirvana sold an extra million units of their album “Never Mind.” It brings more attention to the original work. I saw recently that Don McLean, who did “American Pie,” was quoted that he likes my parody better than his original song. He might have been saying that tongue-in-cheek, but still nice to hear from him.     

BL: Like you, I grew up listening to novelty songs from folks like Allan Sherman. Most parody songs are from one-hit wonders. Why do you think they weren’t able to sustain the longevity of your career?

WA: It’s hard to say. Novelty kind of became a derogatory term because the implication was one-hit wonder. You’d be lucky if you get on the charts, but we’ll never hear from you again. That’s the reason why it was difficult for me to get signed to a record deal in the early 70s and early 80s, because at that time, there wasn’t anyone who had sustained a career doing that kind of thing. Allan Sherman came close; he had three number-one albums within an 18-month span in the early ‘60s. I certainly never expected to have a 40-year-long career and nobody else at the time did either. Through sheer luck and tenacity, I managed to hang on. 

BL: What was it like to hear your song for the first time on the radio? And it was Dr. Demento playing a cassette tape that you recorded in your bedroom on his nationally syndicated show?

WA: It may be harder for kids today to have awareness of what that feeling is because now they have access to social media, they can go on YouTube and get a million views and get their stuff out there. But in the ‘70s, that wasn’t an option for some teenage kid living at home and recording stuff in his bedroom. So when I recorded a song with my accordion on a tiny cassette tape recorder and mailed that tape to a radio station, I never thought that it would really get played on the radio. But when it did, it was like every cliché scene in every biopic you’ve ever seen, where someone hears their song on the radio for the first time. It was hard for me to wrap my head around it. I ran around the house screaming, ‘I’m on the radio, I’m on the radio.’

(In 1979, “Weird Al” stood in a men’s bathroom at Cal Poly (he liked the acoustics of the tile) and recorded “My Bologna,” a parody of The Knack’s “My Sharona” and sent the tape to radio D.J. Dr. Demento. To this day, Cal Poly marks that bathroom with a plaque as the birthplace of Weird Al Yankovic’s career.)

BL: You’ve said that MTV played such a large role for you, but were you concerned that making a video would dictate how you would write the song?

WA: It was a real concern when I was writing albums, and I knew that I had to have at least one song that was going to be a single with a video because that’s how you would traditionally promote the album. That was very much at the forefront of my mind. When I was working on a song, deciding this has got to be the single, then sometimes when I’d write the lyrics, I’d be thinking somewhat visually because I knew at some point in the future this would have to be a video. When I was writing “Smells Like Nevera,” when I came up with a verse, “It’s hard to bargle nawdle zouss with all these marbles in my mouth,” I thought, there has to be a part where you see marbles falling out of my mouth. 

BL: Are there songs that you begin to work on parodying, get stuck after a few lines, and put on the shelf, or once you decide this is the song, you stick to it? 

WA: I think I have a really good sense of what works comedically and what sustains comedically. If I think of an idea for a song, I’m pretty good at figuring out, okay, that’s funny for a verse in the chorus, but there’s nowhere to go after that. It’s dead. Or, I can see where this can build comedically and have two verses in the bridge, and not only will the humor sustain, it will build and get better as it goes along. Those are the kind of songs I write. And those one-joke songs are also funny, but maybe I’ll take that idea and use it in a medley in a live situation or something. Sometimes it’s hard to find those concepts where there’s enough grist there to have three minutes of comedy. 

BL: You don’t want to force it.

WA: Yeah, when I commit to an idea, I’m going to make it work no matter what. I’ve gotten pretty good at figuring out which ideas to latch onto.

BL: We’ve all heard stories about guidance counselors and career recommendations. You ironically credit your guidance counselor with changing your life.

WA: I skipped a couple of grades, so I’m 12 years old starting high school and I had a guidance counselor who was going to figure out what to do with my life. He said, `What are you into, what do you want to do?’ and I think I said I want to work at Mad Magazine, I want to be a writer and/or artist. And he told me in so many words, `that’s a stupid idea’ and that I should grow up and come up with a real job. He said, `you’re good at math and you enjoy your drafting class, why don’t you be an architect?’ I thought, that’s an acceptable, adult-like occupation. 

So I went to college (California Polytechnic State University), four years, got my degree, and then I decided, I don’t like this, it’s not my life calling, it’s not my passion. There are so many other people in the world who are better at this, and I can’t believe the world needs that many architects, so I’m going to give this music career a shot and see what happens.

BL: Because there aren’t too many accordion-playing parody songwriters

WA: Exactly, I filled that vacuum.

BL: And your parents supported that decision.

WA: That was a real blessing. My parents were lower middle-class; they just wanted me to be happy and enjoy my life. They were concerned that I stay out of trouble, have enough to eat, that I wasn’t lonely, all the nice things a parent could wish for you. My mother was a little concerned about me being in show business because she said, `There are a lot of evil people there,’ and of course, she was not wrong (laughing). I don’t think they were terribly worried because they knew I was pretty grounded. 

BL: Ringo Starr just turned 85 and still tours; groups like the Stones are touring into their ‘80s. Can you see yourself 15 years from now still doing “Like a Surgeon?”

WA: I don’t see why not. I still love touring; it’s the favorite part of what I do. If I’m physically able to and people want to see it, I can’t imagine I wouldn’t want to do it. If Ringo can do it, why not?  

BL: You’ve played some of the greatest music venues, Carnegie Hall, now you get to play the historic site where Woodstock took place.

WA: This particular tour has a lot of pinch-me moments in it. We’re playing Bethel the night after playing Madison Square Garden, which is one of those shows we used to joke about in the early ‘80s for tour merch. We used to sell t-shirts that had fake tour dates on the back like, “Creepy Nasty Hot Dog Accident” and “Madison Square Garden,” which at the time was a huge joke because, like, oh, of course this accordion-playing idiot is going to play Madison Square Garden. And now it’s actually happening. These are shows that would have been beyond my comprehension just a couple of years ago, and frankly, kinda still are.

BL: Is there anything on the set list that would remind people of ’69?

WA: Hummm, interesting. I hadn’t really thought about it. I’ll have to consider it. 

[This interview has been edited for length and clarity].

For ticket information: www.bethelwoodscenter.org