Chuck Love
Chuck Love’s day starts off with fighting parrots – a brawl the house multi-instrumentalist/producer/DJ would normally avoid if he didn’t need their squawk on his record (Yes, he truly goes there). Mr. Love then packs a suit case with his girlfriend, and the two get “Pop Love” to drive them to the airport, where they “fight like Fred and Ethyl over the treat bags Mom Love packed” and board the private jet they share with 130 other people. Touchdown. Sound-check. Hotel registration. And then, the best part: the hotel’s fuzzy white robes—which Love says is the benchmark of a “dope” spot. Fittingly, Love and his girl take a “disco nap” before rolling up to the club, where the gratuitous head-bobbing begins and doesn’t end until Love’s guitars are unplugged, the roof was raised, and subwoofers smoldering. Then, before he knows it, he’s back in the studio squabbling with the parrots again.

Love, as we’re sure you’ve gathered by now, is not a...