Let Moby direct your sex life.

Hey, he didn't name his LES beverage shop Teany for nothing:  hipster vegan and technically active musician recently spoke to Bizarre magazine about his next entrepreneurial endeavor: pornography. Of course. Why not.

"I've never understood why porn made for men often stars studly guys with enormous, you know? Surely that’s intimidating to most guys watching? My porn flick would exclusively feature men with normal-to-titchy-sized penises in order to make viewers feel better."

It makes sense that Moby would want to make porn the least intimidating for men as humanely possible, since absolutely nobody in the world is intimidated by Moby. He is the world's least aggressive human being, but at least he knows his niche. He uses words like "titchy-sized," which we hope to God is not a reference to a micro-penis. And hey, maybe what the world needs are more porn films featuring nice-looking women engaged in mediocre love-making sessions with average-sized phalli.

Electric Zoo 2010. (Bennett Sell-Kline/ElectricZooFestival.com)

On a recent Sunday, The Observer stood on a vacant lot neighboring the East River. While wistfully admiring Manhattan’s picturesque Eastern skyline, we soaked in the park’s halcyon beauty. Turning back to face the body of the Randall’s Island, we tried to visualize this site swarming with thousands of sweaty, painted, and dust-covered beings.

The next time The Observer will be here the scene will be much different. In less than one month, this site will be filled with a crowd—twice the size of a packed-house at Madison Square Garden—moshing to the most celebrated deejays in house and electronic music.

On Labor Day weekend, Randall’s Island will host the third annual Electric Zoo music festival, an event that shares an unconventional history with the island. Unlike other music festivals whose tenancy lasts only as long as festival weekend, Electric Zoo and the island’s management have developed a unique symbiosis over the past decade; a relationship that extends beyond Labor Day and into the renovation of the island itself.

“We’ve spent all year working on making Electric Zoo 2011 even better than the last two,” Mike Bindra and Laura De Palma, Executive Producers of Made Event (the festival’s sponsoring organization), told The Observer in an email.

The three-day festival is expected to draw one hundred-thousand people, and will showcase over one hundred world-renowned deejays, a collection of themed art installations, multiple popular food vendors, and a ceremony spotlighting a new public art exhibition on the island entitled FLOW.

Electric Zoo 2010. (Bennett Sell-Kline/ElectricZooFestival.com)

Five years ago, Mr. Bindra and Ms. Palma teamed with Aimee Boden, the Executive Director of the Randall’s Island Sports Foundation (RISF), to collaboratively develop the island as a public space. Drawing on inspiration from the festival, Ms. Boden conceptualized FLOW, a seasonal, outdoor art exhibit which consists of five large-scale installations throughout the lower-half of Randall’s Island. The exhibition's title “evolved from both dance music and from artistic expression,” Ms. Boden told The Observer in an interview at the Foundation’s midtown offices.

Having no artistic expertise, she enlisted the help of Sergio Bessa, the Director of Programs at the Bronx Museum of Art. With the support of Made Event and the Rockefeller NYC Cultural Innovation Fund, RISF and the Bronx Museum launched FLOW. Made Event donated over $42,000 to the project in 2010, and this year they will dedicate $2.00 from every festival ticket sold to the exhibition.

The artists for FLOW were selected from a pool in the Bronx Museum of Art’s Artists in Motion program (AIM). AIM is a highly competitive, biannual program that consists of twelve workshops designed to prepare emerging artists for the art market. “It is the most successful program the museum has ever implemented,” Mr. Bessa told The Observer in a phone call.

“This is just the beginning,” Mr. Bessa eagerly informed us. He added that Randall’s Island has recently signed a contract to host the esteemed Frieze International Art Fair’s first exhibition in the States.

“Made Event has a big stake in this,” Mr. Bessa told The Observer, and Ms. Boden agrees. “[Mr. Bindra and Ms. De Palma] go beyond just looking for a venue to slap down an event,” she told us. “They have an appreciation for the Randall’s Island environment.”

With the support of their venue and city, Electric Zoo 2009 exploded out of the woodwork. More than forty-thousand people traversed the East River and Hell Gate rapids for the two-day festival. And Made Event never looked back. In 2010, Randall’s Island shook under the feet of fifty-thousand indefatigable bodies dancing to Benny Benassi, Kaskade, and others.

“Music and art have always been a part of New York City life and bringing those two elements together within a city park is a natural fit,” Mr. Bindra and Ms. Palma wrote to The Observer.

Electric Zoo 2010. (Bennett Sell-Kline/ElectricZooFestival.com)

According to DJ Magazine, the festival’s line-up for 2011 boasts seven of the world’s top ten deejays. The festival’s headliners—Armin Van Buuren, David Guetta, and Tijs “Tiësto” Verwest—currently hold the top three spots on the magazine’s esteemed international rankings.

With this in mind, The Observer called-up native-New York deejay and Zoo veteran, Richard “Moby” Hall, to get his thoughts on the festival. Mr. Hall is currently on-tour in Europe, but we were able to reach him in his hotel room before he went live in the Spanish nightlife hotbed, Ibiza.

Mr. Hall confessed that despite being born only two miles from Randall’s Island, he never even knew it existed until he was invited to play the Lollapalooza Music Festival there in 1995. He recalled being struck by the island’s antiquated infrastructure. “I thought it was the place where the Legion of Doom would’ve been housed,” he half-joked.

Mr. Hall played Electric Zoo in 2010. “I was really surprised how big Electric Zoo was last year,” the festival-hardened deejay recalled. Yet despite its size, he was shocked that hardly anyone in the music business was aware it was happening. “It was literally an underground festival for fifty-thousand people, a mile away from New York City.”

He feels that it is the production value that distinguishes this event from the rest. “Electric Zoo offers this huge, over-the-top festival,” he asserted, and then added, “In many ways the festival isn’t even about the deejays, it’s about the production.”

“It’s kind of like the Wizard of Oz in that way. I’m just the small man behind the curtain,” the famed disc jockey concluded.

The Observer spoke with Victor Calderone, another wizard of the Electric Zoo festival.

Mr. Calderone, who was the deejay-du-jour for both Madonna and Sting, has taken his electronic stylings all over the world, but he gets particular pleasure performing in his home city. “I didn’t feel like I was on Randall’s Island or even in New York,” he said about last year’s Zoo.

“I have not heard better sounds at a festival,” the Brooklyn-born deejay and three-time Zoo vet, told The Observer. “It’s just an explosion of energy that you don’t have playing a small after-hours club room” the once resident-deejay at the Roxy continued.

Mr. Calderone told us that location is what makes Randall’s Island an excellent venue. “I can’t think of any other locations in New York that work the way Electric Zoo works on Randall’s Island,” the nightlife legend mused, paused, and then added: “There are so many components that make sense.”

Electric Zoo 2010. (Bennett Sell-Kline/ElectricZooFestival.com)

One such component is that Randall’s Island lies in the East River and connects the boroughs of Manhattan, The Bronx, and Queens. “Location and venue are a big part of any festival’s character, so the two are never mutually-exclusive,” Mr. Bindra and Ms. Palma told us, admitting that they’ve had their eye on the island as a prospective venue for their festival for the last decade. “All the improvements they’ve made to the park over the years just made it a no-brainer for us,” the duo wrote. “It was just a question of timing and all the pieces falling into place to finally realize it.”

Despite its auspicious location, the island has a grim history. Since the 19th Century, it has sustained—among other shady establishments—a burial ground for the poor, a psychiatric hospital, and a reform school for juvenile delinquents. Although founded in 1992, RISF finished developing the island earlier this summer. Unveiled with a ceremony on July 1st, the island now has over sixty “state-of-the-art” playing fields, a driving range, a tennis center, the Icahn Track and Field stadium, a redesigned waterfront, gardens, and pedestrian pathways. Ms. Boden also pointed out that the construction restored nine acres of wetlands.

“We want to get people who are not there just to play on the fields to come over and use the island in a new way,” Ms. Boden told The Observer.

And Mr. Bindra and Ms. Palma agree. “New York City’s parks are such a valuable resource without which Electric Zoo could not exist in its current form,” the sponsors concluded. “Our goal is to not only support the island as it grows, but to be a part of its growth and improvement.”

As we made for the footbridge back to Manhattan, The Observer glanced back over our shoulder. After surveying the rehabilitated island, the image of the space alive with thousands of flowing bodies suddenly didn’t seem too far-fetched.

He paid a now jaw-dropping $150,000 for the condo. "The irony is that originally I moved here because it was so cheap, and now it's arguably the most rapidly gentrified part of New York City," Moby told the Post. Given the area's average sales price, his apartment would probably sell for at least 15 times what the beats-master paid for it, if not more considering the roof terrace and celebrity caché.

That he hasn't already cashed in is somewhat surprising, given this downtown dean's penchant for property. He has bought and sold a number of apartments across the city over the years, including a Stuyvesant Square spread and a sprawling duplex at the El Dorado. (Moby uptown? The horror!)

This spread no doubt holds a sentimental value beyond money, as Moby has produced many of his albums here, including 1999's Play, still the bestselling dance album of all time. He has just finished work on his latest: "It's all made with old drum machines and old synthesizers, so it has kind of a broken-down quality to it." Kind of like the apartment, which was fitted out by the artist's architect friend Nick Durrie with wood beams and skylights.

Moby said he misses the days when he could walk out his door and bump into the Beastie Boys or Iggy Pop on the street, though it was only a few years ago that he stopped living wild style. Until Moby gave up drinking for David Lynch-style transcendental meditation, he used to hang at the Village's still notorious Mars Bar, where he frequently invited everyone there back to his apartment. He would find people smoking crack in the bathroom, and, at least once, when Moby was looking for a pancake fix, he discovered his skillet had been used to cook up some Special K.

"Back when I drank, I didn't have the best judgment in the world," Moby said.

mchaban [at] observer.com | @mc_nyo

When we happened upon the Mayor's youngest daughter, 27-year-old Georgina Bloomberg, we congratulated her on another formidable equestrian season -- Ms. Bloomberg took home $30,000 last month after winning the Bluegrass Festival Grand Prix in Kentucky. Did she have any time to follow the midterm elections between horse shows?

"I follow it as much as I have to, but I tend to stay out of politics as much as I possibly can," Ms. Bloomberg said. "I think as a politician's daughter, I have more of a sensitive side to it, and I sympathize a little bit more with them as people, not politicians. And it's hard to kind of watch that and see the negative ads, and things like that -- I don't just see the politicians, I see their families, and I see the way it affects their kids or their wives." Sounds reasonable to us!

In the spirit of the cause, multiple notables came prepped with their best doggie tales. American Ballet Theater principal Marcelo Gomes, who took the stage later in the evening with his dachshund, Lua, told us a slightly harrowing one: "I once pulled on my dog's tail really, really hard, and it broke. Well, it fractured," he said, which didn't seem much in keeping with the night's program. How long ago did this happen? "I was very, very young. I didn't know my strength at that moment. But it healed, thank God, and we're all very happy," Mr. Gomes said. "I was crying for about, like, a month or so." Thank goodness he's channeling his strength more productively these days.

Socialite and Interview magazine contributor Fabiola Beracasa currently owns three "death-row" dogs, whom she rescued from being euthanized at the eleventh hour. She promised to tell us a lighthearted anecdote about one in particular, Savannah, but it started out on a rather sobering note: "His temperament is, he's just the nicest dog in the world. And he had been shot in the mouth," she explained, then insisted, "This is a funny story!" And it was, eventually! Apparently Savannah needed to have a metal fixture put into his jaw for a few months to stabilize it while it healed. "So I'm walking down the street with my dog Savannah, who looks like Lady Gaga, because he's got this thing, right?" Ms. Beracasa continued.

"And I run into Terry Richardson, who I know... and he's like, 'Do you mind if I take a picture of your crazy Lady Gaga dog?' and I said sure. And then I'm flipping through French Vogue a few months later, and there's my crazy Lady Gaga dog, in French Vogue!" Ms. Beracasa laughed. "I told you it was worth it. So I run into Terry and I'm like, 'So listen. I've been trying to get into French Vogue my whole life!'"

French Vogue, listen up: it must be noted that Ms. Beracasa looked stunning in a knockout silver-spangled Valentino minidress with a bolero blazer covering her shoulders. "It's like a really strapless dress, and I believe in only showing one body part at once, at a time, you know?" Ms. Beracasa said. "A long sleeve, a short skirt, or vice versa. You know who taught me that? Margherita Missoni's a really good friend of mine, and her grandmother told her that." (Margherita's grandmother is Rosita Missoni, who co-founded the eponymous clothing line in the 1950s with her husband, Vittorio. We'd take her sartorial advice, too.)

The musician and committed animal-rights activist Moby, who emceed the event, insisted he had the best dog story of all. "When I was about ten years old, I was walking by my town dump in Darien, Connecticut... And I heard a little mew. And I looked in a box and in this box were five dead kittens who were about ten days old, and one barely-alive kitten," Moby explained. "So I picked up this barely-alive kitten, eyes closed, just mewing, and I ran home. My mom and I took it to the vet, and the vet said, 'Look, don't get attached to this cat, because he's very young, he's very sick, he won't survive.' And so we took him home, prepared for the cat to die. And our dachshund, George, became the mother to the cat and nursed the cat back to health... Where literally like, the cat would pee and poo all over itself, George would clean it up."

"So George became the cat's mom, and the cat lived to be 19 years old," he finished triumphantly. Awww.

She wore a fetching strapless dress, carried a flashdrive of music from a friend (which she threatened to use as a switchblade, or maybe a Taser), and urged guests to try the deviled eggs distributed throughout the room (like Easter eggs, sort of, she said).

When Moby arrived, he greeted her like an old pal. David Schwimmer also put in an appearance: He was overheard outside the party saying that he had only come to retrieve his girlfriend, which he swiftly did. He wore a hat pulled low, presumably to shield partygoers from the glare of his celebrity.

In general, though, the boldfaced names skewed more internet-famous than I Love the Nineties. Lockhart Steele (Curbed), Alex Balk (The Awl), and Jessica Coen (Jezebel) all came. As The Observer caught up with Crosley, ur-Gawker Elizabeth Spiers sat across the room, threatening to share embarrassing stories.

"Is this a free book party?" asked Steele, prompting a half-serious dispute with Coen over the ethics of getting friends' stuff for free. Shouldn't you be willing to support their efforts, Coen wanted to know? Steele said he just wanted a copy with Crosley's signature and her number. Crosley liked this idea: for the last book, she'd drawn cakes when giving autographs, but the recipients tended to think the pictures were little houses or something.

Drawing is not among her talents, but throwing parties is no problem. The Vintage/Anchor publicist assessed the gathering with a practiced eye.

"I underplayed the ratio a little," she said, explaining the bustling-but-not-oppressive crowd on the restaurant's second floor. If it had been someone else's party, she'd have invited 30 percent more people than she expected to actually come. This, she noted, was the same factor by which one should overstate Bookscan figures.

How did it feel to be promoting her sophomore collection?

"You don't take lots of pictures of the second baby," said Crosley.

But she swore she did not mean this in a negative way! She wasn't jaded or anything.  Besides, there are advantages to having a bestselling debut (I Was Told There'd Be Cake) under one's belt. The Times, which had "ignored" her first book, paired this one with Emily Gould's for a review in last Sunday's paper. And while others objected to the pairing, Crosley claimed not to mind--it wasn't like the paper had panned one and loved the other, after all.

Her only reservation was the large, glinting cuff bracelet she wore to the photo shoot.

"I look like I'm She-Ra, Princess of Power," Crosley said.

It was kind of confusing. What was this unassuming electronic specialist doing running around to parties with models and fashion designers attached to his arm? Surely it wasn’t just because they dug his 1999 breakthrough, Play (which sold 10 million copies, making it the best-selling electronic album of all time)? No, Moby represented something to them: Someone famous, accessible but untacky. He was a novelty.

“I had all of these strange opportunities,” Moby told The Observer in his home recording studio on the border of Little Italy recently, “to date glamorous people that I would have never been able to date before; to go to fantastic celebrity parties that I’d never been invited to before.” He removed his thick plastic glasses and sat at his kitchen table, binge-drinking tea, his signature beverage (the Lower East Side vegan restaurant he founded, Teany, was destroyed by fire last June). “I felt like a kid in a candy store, grabbing everything I could.”

With his new album, Wait for Me, Moby asserts definitively that those days are over. The huge bombast of Play has faded out, leaving dark, slow, quiet music in its wake. If there’s a pop song to be found on the album, it’s buried underneath layers of melancholy. Moby recorded all of it in his private studio, and it is his way of bowing out of the celebrity world.

“I was making a record at home for other people to listen to at home,” he said.

Inside the apartment, reminders of his supernova flash of stardom are everywhere: Gold and platinum records hung on the wall; a mantel was lined with MTV Video Music awards; stacks of old Casio synthesizers and analog drum machines lay across the floor. Moby himself was wearing wrinkled cargo pants and a white T-shirt. He’s not tall, and not too short; his shiny head contains friendly eyes that smile at you, even though his mouth never once curls up into a grin. He doesn’t look like a rock star.

“People assume that somehow fame and wealth will keep mortality at bay,” he said, scooting over to the sink to pour another cup of tea. “I often think of Nirvana. If Nirvana had remained a small, underground punk rock band, Kurt Cobain would still be alive. And he’d probably be living in Seattle, getting kind of fat and balding, be relatively happy and producing records for other people.”

But Kurt Cobain was shooting heroin long before he was famous, The Observer reminded Moby.

Still! “The more fame I had, the less happiness I had,” he said. “For me, there had to be that conscious moving away from the institutions of fame.”

It took a while. The artist’s last two albums, 2005’s Hotel and 2008’s Last Night, were filled with club-ready dreck. Moby was going through the motions and didn’t seem to have any reservations about his new role as Page Six fodder.

“I wanted to make records that would sustain the life I was living,” he said.

It was David Lynch, of all people, that inspired Moby to rethink his new life as celebrity candy. That’s right: The eccentric, pompadour-sporting director of Eraserhead is responsible for stirring this musician to record one of the most depressing albums of the decad,e in a bold attempt to drop out of the fame game. In October 2007, Moby heard Mr. Lynch speak about the creative process at the British Academy for Film and Television Arts. Mr. Lynch’s earnest presentation prompted an epiphany, Moby said: Ditch the models for the keyboards and get back to making music. So don’t expect to see him at any red-carpet events any time soon, bucko.

“I’m 44 years old. If I’m trying to be a pop star, that’s just tragic,” Moby said, and he almost smiled. Almost.

mmiller@observer.com

Today, Google has launched Favorite Places, a Google Maps feature that allows you to find celebrities' favorite spots, whether via the Web or your phone. Chefs like Danny Meyer and Masaharu Morimoto name their favorite spots to grab a bite; designers Cynthia Rowley and Isaac Mizrahi give up their most treasured boutiques. Little icons dot the maps and users can click on them for more information, while related photos of the locations line the bottom of the screen. Google users with a log-in can also make their own maps of their favorite spots with the My Maps feature to share with the rest of the Internet.

Google's new Favorite Places feature seems to be part of a recent trend in New York to blend technology, celebrities and sightseeing—like the Central Park Conservancy's celebrity-guided park tours by cell phone, or the various maps noting film locations. Google's Favorite Places was made in partnership with NYC & Company, the city's marketing and tourism organization, so some of the sites are "sponsored" by the group. It's kind of like an extension of their "Ask the Locals" section on NYCGo.com.

But the maps aren't just available in New York—there are Favorite Places features for cities from San Francisco to Boston and overseas in London, Tokyo, Madrid, Paris and beyond. Folks like cellist Yo-Yo Ma and Al Gore offer insights into their hometowns, too.

In the release, Google mentioned that local businesses can register more information, photos, and videos for free using the Google Maps Local Business Center, as part of their Local Business Center dashboard. Hmm, looks a bit like a CitySearch/Yelp mashup!

As far as Moby's love of Mars Bar, we think he's just trying to scare the tourists away by leading them to a less desirable location. But here's his excuse, according to a statement: "[T]he last remaining dive bar in the lower east side. [O]k, there are actually a bunch of dive bars in the lower east side, but mars bar has been around forever and it's eternally awful and fantastic." Fantastically awful, at least!

“It is an ocean of infinite intelligence. Creativity. Happiness known as bliss. Infinite universal love. Energy. Dynamic peace,” mused the 63-year-old filmmaker, dressed in a black suit and a yellow tie that was brighter than his signature silver pompadour, at the beginning of a star-studded concert he had organized at the famed venue. “When a human being, any human being, dives within and experiences this ocean, swims in this ocean, life gets better and better and better.”

Ohmmm!

He was referring to Transcendental Meditation, also known as TM, the trademarked meditation technique developed in the 1960s by Indian spiritual guru Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, and which Mr. Lynch, himself a meditator of 35 years, plans to teach to 1 million "at-risk youth" via his namesake foundation. The concert was a benefit for this initiative.

His co-host for the evening was Laura Dern, one of Mr. Lynch’s favorite actresses, whose head-to-toe black ensemble accentuated her shiny blonde locks and bright red lipstick.

“It’s pure bliss to be on a film with you because it’s boundary-less,” said Ms. Dern (we’re noticing a “bliss” theme here!), standing next to Mr. Lynch at stage right, “and I’m just curious if the boundary-less-ness that you bring to all of us comes from your connection to meditation.”

“You better believe it!” he replied.

If Tom Cruise is the celebrity face of Scientology, and Madonna is the celebrity face of Kabbalah, Mr. Lynch has become that for TM, which has a less cultish, although not entirely uncontroversial, reputation. And as was evidenced by Saturday’s concert--the highlight of which was a rare performance by surviving Beatles Sir Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr--he is but one on a long list of bold-faced names that use or endorse the practice. Jennifer Aniston, Yoko Ono, John McEnroe, Martin Scorsese, Kyle MacLachlin, Michael J. Fox, Matthew Broderick and Jason Bateman, though not necessarily all meditators themselves, were among the attendees.

“I’ve been meditating for 37 years,” said Jerry Seinfeld, who made a surprise appearance midway through the concert, before launching into a series of jokes about bathroom stalls and taxis.

Soon afterward, fellow comedian and 38-year TM practitioner Howard Stern took the stage.

“Mike Love of the legendary Beach Boys saw me backstage and he said to me, ‘Howard, you prove that you do not have to be a pussy to meditate!’” he said.

Other TM-ers to perform included Angelo Badalamente (to The Daily Transom’s utter excitement, he opened the concert with a flawless recital of the Twin Peaks theme song), Ben Harper (did you know he was married to Ms. Dern?), Donovan, Moby, Betty Lavette, Sheryl Crow and Eddie Vedder, who was looking very 1992 with his unbuttoned flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, blue jeans, wavy shoulder-length hair and scruffy goatee. Hip Hop mogul and philanthropist Russell Simmons addressed the audience via a taped video message, but he had appeared in person the previous afternoon at a pre-concert press conference in Radio City’s lobby.

“I operate most days from my meditation,” he said. “It gives me the ability to function in a world that is full of stress.”

The concept of TM as a celebrity cause isn’t entirely new. In fact, The Beatles were largely responsible for importing TM to the West after studying under the Maharishi in 1968 at his ashram in Rishikesh, India. The technique involves repeating a mantra with one’s eyes closed twice a day for 20 minutes.

“It was a great gift the Maharishi gave to us,” said Mr. McCartney, standing next to Mr. Starr at the press conference, and looking quite hip for his age. “It came at a time when we were looking for something to stabilize us toward the end of the crazy ‘60s. And it is a lifelong gift. It’s something you can call on at any time.”

Of course, to describe TM as a “gift” in 2009 is somewhat misleading; it costs $2,000 for an adult, or $1,000 for a full-time student, to learn the technique—not exactly the most recession-friendly investment—hence the need to raise so much money so the kids can learn it for free. (The pricey Radio City benefit generated an estimated $3 million, according to The David Lynch Foundation.)

Perhaps that's why critics have accused the TM crowd of being a bit cultish. Even Moby, a more recent TM convert, couldn’t resist making a wisecrack about it.

“Growing up, anything associated with TM and hippies scared the shit out of me,” he joked. “I thought it involved ritual animal sacrifice and moving to some country and renouncing wealth and materialism and eating bugs.”

But in the end, TM’s “simplicity” won him over.

“One of the things that makes TM so effective is that you don’t really have to do all that much,” he said,  “and as a profoundly lazy person, I appreciate that.”

While plot points are scarce, according to the Guardian (via Spin.com), the flick focuses on a band known as the Winners who are “torn between bloodsucking music execs and actual bloodsuckers.” There’s also a subplot involving the Secretaries of Steak—a meat-lovin’ punk outfit fronted by none other than animal-rights activist and vegan extraordinaire, Moby. So what does Mr. Robert Melville Hall think about playing a carnivore named Beef with a "USDA approved" tatto on his neck whose fans get off by pelting him with meat (foam rubber on set) and blood (raspberry syrup)? “I’m making a specialty of playing douche bags,” Moby tells Rollingstone.com. “I could spend the rest of my career perfecting the douche bag. It’s the journey not the destination.”