David Coverdale entered the pantheon of rock stardom in 1973 as singer Ian Gillan’s successor for the English group Deep Purple. In 1977, he went solo and formed his own band, Whitesnake, which ruled America a decade later with its self-titled album, selling eight million copies on the strength of hooky hits like “Here I Go Again” and “Is This Love.”

Out today is Forevermore, Whitesnake’s 11th studio platter, and the band is launching a headlining tour in May. In this exclusive interview, I spoke with the charismatic Coverdale about his experiences with band members past and present, his thoughts on becoming a U.S. citizen, and why Japanese liner notes can yield entertaining answers.

Forevermore is one hard rocking album, even more than its predecessor, Good to Be Bad. What’s in the engine room these days?

The engine room is just a fuel for life in general. I think if you put a cord in my rear end, I could light up a significant community.

Working with collaborator and guitarist Doug Aldrich, how’s the writing and producing chemistry on your second album together?

We were certainly more confident. It’s a marriage made in heaven, as I hope people can hear. There’s no antagonistic aspect or conflict of interest; we both embrace the elements that we enjoy as performers, which is hard rock, the blues, soul, and a bit of tongue-in-cheek fun.

Which songs are you looking most forward to airing live?

I think “Love Will Set You Free”; “Steal Your Heart Away”; we did “My Evil Ways,” which is probably going to have [Brian] Tichy’s monstrous two-drum solo in; “Tell Me How,” I adore. Doug, I know, wants to do “Easier Said Than Done”…I’d love us to introduce the element of doing some acoustic stuff; all the guys are playing guitar and are singers, and I think we can do some beautiful work on “Fare Thee Well,” and some earlier Whitesnake stuff in an acoustic setting would be refreshing for me.

How do you keep your voice in shape these days?

Well, it’s actually really tired with all these interviews now! [Someone] said, “Oh, my God, you had trouble in 2009 when you had to step away from the stage with [Judas] Priest.” That was a sore throat, you know? No singer wants to get a sinus infection or flu, but unfortunately, it happens. There was no surgery or medication needed. It was just a gag order for six weeks, and everything’s fine; I’m just rusty from all the interviews.

I take care of my voice; I’m working out the way I would do my body, so that stays in shape. I think anybody can hear this on the album; it’s as good as—well, I’m very happy with what I’ve achieved.

In the last decade, Whitesnake has been touring with other classic and rock and metal bands. What have some of your favorite memories been?

Without a doubt, I think an incredible collaboration was when we worked with Def Leppard. Not only did the bands get on amazingly well, [singer] Joe Elliott and I have maintained a very, very brotherly relationship, and all the crews got on well. So I think it was perfect from top to bottom, amazing, and I would work with them at the drop of a hat. We all got on famously quick then.

You became a U.S. citizen in 2007. What new things did you rediscover about America in the process that you appreciate?

There was an awful lot of stuff. Of course, I had to learn a great deal about its history, but being a history buff, anyway, as a student of history, it was fantastic. It’s a great honor for me that I can maintain my British [citizenship] as well. So half and half, I don’t know which half—maybe Manland, the theme park between my legs, is the American side.

Was there anything new that you learned?

No great surprises; it’s taken a great deal from European and ancient Greek, Roman aspects in terms of what’s expected of the citizenry and what’s expected of the government. The huge bonus for me, to be honest, is more personal: the fact that I can go through the same passport control with my wife and my son. That was always difficult to separate.

Plus you’ve been living here for a long time now.

I’ve been honored to have been a very welcomed guest since the early ’70s.

I read this in a Japanese box set’s liner notes—

(Laughs heartily.) I’ve seen some of my lyrics translated, so…

Is it true that you almost didn’t get the job in Deep Purple because you were considered too feminine-looking?

No! I don’t think so—I had to shave a terribly risqué mustache off. That’s the first time I’ve heard of that. You know, that, to me, is just silly. I don’t know where that’s from.

What jobs did you have before you—

Too feminine, are you kidding me? I’m as butch as they come. That’s very funny.

It’s an odd thing. What jobs did you have before you became a singer?

When I was very, very young, seven years old, I heard there was school where you could go to learn to draw. That was my absolute driven passion, to become an artist or a painter. So the romantic realist in me, I studied to be a graphic design artist and an art teacher. At the same time, I’ve also been singing since I was born. My mother, God bless her soul, she was with me for the first day of school—I was four or five years old. The teacher stood me up on the desk in front of the class and said, “David knows all the lyrics to all the songs in the top ten, so he’s going to sing them to you.” I think the number one song at that time was “Singing the Blues,” and nothing’s changed. But I’ve been singing for a long time, and it’s just amazing, the courage that Deep Purple showed to me, which I consider such a golden opportunity.

Besides the tunes you wrote with the band, what are some of your favorite Deep Purple songs?

I loved their In Rock album; that was my favorite. [Guitarist] Richie Blackmore actually told me the story; I said, “Wow, that was so powerful,” and he said, “Well, we’d made an album called Deep Purple with Orchestra and Rock Concerto”—do you remember that one?

Mm-hmm.

And wherever they went, the promoters would say, “Well, where the hell’s the orchestra?” And Richie said, “That’s it—if we don’t do a pure rock record, I’m outta here.” And they came together and made that astonishing album. That was my favorite Purple album, In Rock.

I wasn’t alive yet when those two came out back-to-back…

That one was interesting; it didn’t really cross the water as much as the others. But in Europe, that separated the men from the boys. It was a huge album, In Rock.

There’s been a rumbling to induct the oft-overlooked Purple into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Is that something you support?

I don’t think about it, you know? If it happens, it happens. It’s not something that I actively concern myself with. I concern myself with getting very best out of myself, my musicians, and pushing Whitesnake as far as it can go to the next level.

Like Purple, Whitesnake has a diehard, dedicated fanbase in Japan. What do you attribute this to?

We’ve always focused on the substance of the music. I’m a consumer, so when I buy an album, and it only has two or three songs on it and the rest are fillers, I’m as frustrated as other people. So other than the image aspect, which is documented through the MTV years, Whitesnake’s never compromised the musical substance that it started with, and that continues to this day. As much as in Japan, you have the most loyal, hardcore fanbase in any musical genre, [which] is rock, as long as you don’t abuse that privilege. And the other bonus is, rock fans, they want the substance of the CD in hand as opposed to the download, you know? So Whitesnake’s in a very good spot and we’re flourishing, thankfully.

Where did the name Whitesnake come from?

Uh, my penis. Speaking of that, I literally got the news this morning, Justin, that in Europe we’ve had 37 percent more advance orders than Britney Spears had on her last studio album. Where the hell they come up with that, I don’t know, but there is hope for civilization.

Are you saying there’s some kind of correlation between this and your penis?

No, no. I wish I’d called it Pork Pie, but I was born in England, extremely white, you know? Otherwise, if it had been Asia or Africa, it would have been something else. It’s actually a joke—it was a song that I had written, like a tongue-in-check song, that I had started writing. Had Deep Purple made another studio record after Come Taste the Band, “Whitesnake” would have probably been [included], but it ended up being the title of my first solo album, and ultimately, it just resonated as a group name.

Robert Plant once called you “David Cover-Version,” I believe. Have you ever had a chance to talk that out with him?

Why would you squander the opportunity to talk with me about this?

We don’t have to discuss that.

If I had sold 100 million records emulating anybody, then there’s something wrong in the universe.

I’ve got a reverse emulation one for you here. Out of curiosity, have you heard the KISS song “Never Enough” from their last album, Sonic Boom?

Probably, yeah. I’m very close with Paul [Stanley] and Gene [Simmons].

The chorus sounds a lot, and I mean a lot, like Whitesnake’s “Slide It In.”

(Laughs.) There’s a lot of stuff [that] sounds like “Slide It In.” That’s fine and dandy; there’s room for all of us.

With songs Whitesnake released in the early 1980s like “Slide It In,” Slow An’ Easy” and “Spit It Out,” were you surprised that none of those songs wound up on the PMRC’s Filthy Fifteen list?

These things just don’t occur to me. Those songs in particular, “Slide It In,” it’s a relevant lyric, but definitely tongue-in-cheek. Very tongue-in-cheek. It’s amazing; we’re blessed with like a fifty-fifty gender audience, and it’s very funny to hear the girls singing “Slide It In”—it’s always a smile-promoting experience. You know, that kind of stuff [with the PMRC], I remember seeing all that, and I don’t concern myself; it’s not important. It’s a couple of bored Washington housewives, you know, making something out to have importance that has no relevance whatsoever.

At the same time, how did Whitesnake get away with releasing the notorious Lovehunter album cover?

That was in response—in the UK, suddenly out of the blue, I was attacked for being a misogynist, which is absolutely not wrong, you know? I said at the time, “These songs are not sexist, they’re sexy.” And it just got out of hand in some elements of the media, so I thought, “Well, f**k you.” And I got an artist called Chris Achilleos who did stuff for a men’s magazine in England called Men Only, and I had him do the cover as a kind of finger to the media. And as I say, the biggest [group of] people who buy the T-shirt of that are girls, so go figure. It’s a laugh.

The record company gave you no anguish over that? Even a band like Scorpions had to censor some of its covers.

No, no. Absolutely none. It was really just flipping off critics.

Do you consider This is Spinal Tap a comedy, or is it too close for comfort?

It’s very funny. [The late rock drummer] Cozy Powell, God rest his soul, and I would just almost have trouble controlling our bladders watching that. So much of it is so very close to the truth. I actually sat in a booth at the Beverly Hills Hotel on a Sunday having brunch, and I heard Rob Reiner selling the story to some producers at the next table. It’s very, very funny to hear, and then I had the pleasure of meeting those guys when they were in character. Ozzy Osbourne, I think, told me that he thought it was the story of his life (laughs). I welcome that stuff—this is rock and roll, you know? I had my serious years with Deep Purple; I prefer having fun.

Whom do you admire among singers today?

I love Joe Elliott; he’s my brother, the Leppard guy. I love these new groups exploring more [of] the origins and the natural, organic side of music like the Avett Brothers and Mumford & Sons. I’m a huge [Bob] Dylan fan, of course. The Deadstring Brothers out of Chicago, I’m really enjoying their vocals—it’s a great guy and a girl singing. You know, I’m a song guy, as opposed to listening to singers.

Your voice is ageless, but David Coverdale himself will be turning 60 this fall…

Yes, in September. I’ll be celebrating it with some hopefully party-crazy Brazilians.

Will you be going down to Brazil?

Yeah, [Whitesnake will be] in South America. They’ve changed the dates on us, but definitely, I was working on my birthday. My agent hates me, I think. But yeah, we’re going to be with Priest down there; it’s gonna be crazy. The last time we did South America down there together, we had a nuts time.

They love their rock down there.

Oh, my God. You know what’s amazing? They don’t just sing the song with you, they sing the guitar riff.

Right, they chant it the whole time.

Yeah. For instance, “Crying in the Rain” (chants riff), it’s an astonishing experience. It’s unique to South America.

I have one more past question for you...

Certainly.

Can you tell us why everyone else from the 1987 incarnation of Whitesnake was let go after the album’s completion?

We totally would have ended up killing each other. I stand by every decision I’ve made throughout my career and my life, good or bad, up or down. It just didn’t work, you know? Musically, people connected pretty well, as you could hear on the record, but socially, it was an intense divide, which, to me, I’m not into. A lot of people fuel their relationships on an antagonistic level; that’s not remotely interesting to me, you know? I don’t want the distraction of any negative energy in my life, so if that answers it, it’s not a welcome thing in mine—see ya.

If I could ask, regarding guitarist John Sykes, why after asking him to rejoin the band did you not follow through?  

I didn’t ask him to rejoin the band….A mutual acquaintance of John and I—I’m trying to remember, this was probably 2001, 2002; I’m not sure—a mutual acquaintance said, “It’s about time you guys spoke together.” And I was working on demos with Tony Franklin and he was helping me out. We didn’t have any plans to do anything—Tony’s an immensely musical man, and I rented a house around the corner from of my home in Lake Tahoe, and we were working on demos for what was going to be a new Coverdale album. And I said, “Well, I’m open to talk. If nothing else, let’s see what happens.”

And there was no invitation, and in the end he actually went on the road with [Thin] Lizzy, so I couldn’t speak to him to say that my decision was that I felt that he’d been his own boss, and I’d been my own boss for so long that I [didn’t] think it would have been conducive to us working together. And I wished him well with what he was doing, and I do today.

The only time I’ve gone back, Justin—because I feel that my experience with everyone I’ve worked with was fulfilling up to that point when we separated—was [drummer] Tommy Aldridge. Brian Tichy was supposed to be my drummer when I revamped Whitesnake in ’03, and [bassist] Marco Mendoza said, “Tommy sends his love, and he’s there for you if you need him.” And I was actually looking for a Tommy Aldridge-style drummer, and Tommy and I had a fabulous three years before we finished that book. There wasn’t any re-invite or whatever. We did speak, and I must say that it was really nice after 18 years of ugly, ugly energy, to clear the air. But unfortunately, I don’t think the energy remained positive

So that was the first time you had reconnected with him since the ’80s?

For many, many years, yeah…you know, there are certain things that happen in your life that you regret, and I regret the unnecessary energy that developed between Robert [Plant] and I, who I admire immensely and always have, and knew very, very well—him and Bonzo [the late drummer John Bonham] were the ones I knew most out of the [Led] Zeppelin guys. But John and I obviously create great music together; we just couldn’t coexist as people.

I’m glad we could get that out there and promote the new stuff.

Give a listen to my band; I’m now pretty secure with who I’m working with. This is an orchestra to die for that I’m blessed with right now…we’ll celebrate my fourth decade in the music business together.

Have you ever heard any of the material John Sykes did with his next band, Blue Murder?

Yeah, we heard something—it was a couple of influences. It was impossible not to, because we were on the same label.

What did you think of it?

It was pretty good.

Any other messages in your inimitable fashion?

Looking forward very much to getting out there and introducing these songs from Forevermore in concert. I can’t wait!

Whitesnake kicks off its U.S. tour Wednesday, May 11 at the NYCB Theatre at Westbury in New York. For more information, dates and tickets, visit http://whitesnake.com.

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