Since his signature dance-floor anthem 'Go' debuted in 1992, Moby has consistently been one of dance music's most recognizable stars, even making the jump into pop stardom when 1999's 'Play' became a surprise multiplatinum success.

Additionally, albums such as 'Animal Rights,' which found him exploring his punk roots, and '18' have shown him to be a thought-provoking artist. His magnum opus, 1995's 'Everything Is Wrong,' is a sublime work that will have you dancing at moments and then nearly moved to tears at the lush, orchestral gorgeousness at other times.

Moby's latest, 'Where It's At,' hearkens back to 'Everything Is Wrong,' creating a rich world of musical moods and styles. Yet, as Moby shares with Spinner in an incredibly revealing chat, he's not kidding when he says he doesn't expect anyone to listen to the album.

As he talks about the pluses and minuses of fame and success -- with the benefits being playing alongside his musical heroes David Bowie, New Order and Lou Reed -- it's clear no one is more surprised by all this than the man born Richard Melville Hall.

Who's on that list of the people you admire that people might be surprised about?

I love Neil Diamond, and part of it is a very genuine love and there is also a degree of nostalgic irony. Someone I have an almost non-ironic love for -- it's one of those things, maybe, I shouldn't admit this, but I really love Rod Stewart. Like when he was in the Faces, and all his early solo stuff. That voice, 'cause I've always wanted to be a singer. When I was young, I would listen to Beatles records and sing along and I had myself convinced that I would be a great singer. Then I tried out for school choir and I was one of the three people rejected. A class of 60 people, 57 were accepted into the choir, three people were rejected, and I was one of them. So I've always been in awe of people who just have not only amazing voices but amazing, idiosyncratic, really distinctive voices, like Rod Stewart.

Rod Stewart isn't such a bad one. Why should you have kept that to yourself?

I think I have interview Tourette's, like you put a microphone in my hand and all of a sudden I'm saying, out of nowhere, bizarre things about Scientologists and Tom Cruise. Maybe it's like the signal passing through the microphone short circuits my brain and all of a sudden I have to say the most inappropriate thing I can think of. And afterwards I'm like, "Why? Haven't I learned my lesson? Like, haven't I pissed off enough people?" I think I need a minder or, like, a chemical nanny or something.

You recently played with Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr. Do you still get a sense of amazement about something like that?

Without question, because I define myself as being an obsessive fan. There were certain musicians like John Lydon, David Bowie, Ian Curtis and Ian McCulloch who I just loved. I revered them. I wanted to dress like them, sound like them, find out everything about them, buy their posters and records. I was an obsessive fan, and one of the strangest things about having my own career as a musician is I've been able to interact with my heroes, and it's so disconcerting. When I was growing up, I never expected to have a career as a musician. I thought that I would make music in my bedroom or my basement that no one would listen to. Musical careers were for the exalted ones, the David Bowies of the world. And I felt like my lot in life was to be a perpetual fan. And then I sang a Joy Division song with New Order; I played 'Me and Bobby McGee' with Kris Kristofferson, 'Walk on the Wild Side' with Lou Reed and traded verses. I played 'Whole Lotta Love' with Slash and we traded guitar solos, and I know it sounds like I'm being immodest and bragging, but I'm more just trying to say it's almost like there's a shift in the space-time continuum and this is a reality that was never supposed to happen, because I was never supposed to meet my heroes, I was never supposed to make music with them. I was just supposed to sort of observe from afar and buy their records.

When was the first time the opposite happened and someone came up to you that had that same sort of hero worship you had for others?

When I first started making dance music in about '90, '91, and I don't know what this says for me and my sort of unresolved psychological issues, but a woman came up to me and said, "Oh, I really like your records." My instinct was to try and convince her she was wrong. I was like, "You must be mistaken." As a musician, I make music that no one cares about, and even to this day I've been making records for 20 years, it's still incredibly disconcerting to me when someone tells me that they like me or they like my music, you know. Hopefully, a few more years of therapy, I'll have it all worked out.

What does your therapist say about it?

That emotional habits founded in childhood are really hard to get rid of as an adult.

Have you stopped trying to convince people that they're wrong?

There are some musicians who expect fame, and there are some musicians who expect success, and there are some musicians who when they put out a record they expect people to listen to it, and whatever success I've had is an anomaly -- and when I put out a record like this new album 'Wait for Me,' I put it out and I don't expect anyone to listen to it.

Was the success of 'Play' difficult then?

I started putting out records in my name in '90 or '91, then from '91 to '99 some of my records were successful, some weren't successful, and it was always like the unsuccessful ones made me a lot more comfortable. The successful ones made me a little nervous, and then when 'Play' came out it was such a bizarre thing 'cause at that point I was kind of a has-been. I made this weird record in my bedroom. I was signed to a small independent label, and I certainly didn't expect it to be successful, and the success of 'Play' just grew and grew, and one of the ways I dealt with it, I just drank a lot. And by staying drunk for a few years, it made the attention a lot more tolerable, and I'm not complaining. There truly are fewer things less annoying than a public figure complaining about the perils of public figuredom. But the attention that comes with the degree of success, I can't say that I like it all that much; but then, the flip side of that, the paradox is when I get no attention, I get really anxious. So attention makes me nervous, lack of attention makes me nervous. What do you do? Go with Leonard Cohen to Mt. Baldy for 10 years.

Do you feel like though having gone through a level of celebrity it was much easier to give it up because you realize the idiocy of it?

It's more subjective, in a way, 'cause when 'Play' became successful, I found myself getting a little too involved with the institutions of fame -- like going to red carpet events and celebrity parties because I couldn't believe I was being invited to these things. So I went and drank and did drugs and it was fun, but from my experience it was all like junk food. Celebrities might be OK, but not when they're getting a lot of attention because, for example, when my friends when go to a dinner party, they're judged on how much they contribute at that dinner party. Meaning they're judged if they're funny, if they're erudite, if they're respectful, and celebrities feel like just showing up is enough, and so you go to these celebrity parties and it's a bunch of people who think that just showing up has made it a special event, so it's kind of tedious, and the conversations with celebrities – it's so tautological. Like you just keep repeating the same thing over, "What are you working on? So, where are you staying? So where are you going for vacation?" So it just gets really repetitive and I just wish I was at my friend's house playing scrabble and watching 'The Simpsons.' That ultimately seems a lot more fun, healthier, sustainable.

Was there anybody who really guided you or at least you looked to as like, "All right, well, now I know how to sort of deal with the success and keep going"?

There are a couple ways to learn. One is learning from people who are doing things right, the other is learning from people who seem to be doing things wrong. So standing back and observing public figures who are desperately clawing for more fame, more attention, more drugs, more sex and more everything, that desperation leads people to make bad decisions. It led me to make a lot of bad decisions, and it's really unattractive. So, sometimes, I wasn't so good at seeing my own desperation and sometimes I wasn't so good at seeing my own bad actions, my bad judgments, but I could see it in other people and realize I was doing the same thing and it made it a little easier, like being a drunk. If I'm out and it's four o'clock in the morning, and I'm really drunk, I'm thinking to myself, "I'm so witty and full of insights." And the truth is I'm just an idiot.

Talk a little about working with David Lynch, being inspired by him and then having him direct the 'Shot in the Back of the Head' video.

David Lynch is probably my favorite American filmmaker. Honestly, I think everything he's done has been pretty remarkable. [Of] all the musicians I mentioned who were my heroes, David Lynch is sort of above all of them, and there's a danger, some of my heroes when I've met them, it's actually compromised my ability to go back and listen to their records. So now I'm a little weary of meeting my heroes 'cause I don't want to screw up my fandom. But I DJ'd at his wedding, that was my wedding gift to him. He's such a kind, gracious, generous man it's actually made me like his movies more. I understand them less because his movies do have quite a lot of darkness in them, and he's such a happy person.

When you hear the finished version of 'Wait for Me,' what do you take from it?

When I make records, I do the engineering, production, songwriting, and playing the instruments, so a lot of the time when I listen to the record I'm evaluating it in all those different ways and it's this sort of dichotomy between fault and praise. So sometimes simultaneously I can be listening to something, criticizing part of it but also giving myself a little credit for other parts of it. I think it's actually quite a nice album, I'm really proud of the way I produced it, and I'm going to sound like Grandpa Simpson, but I got tired of all these modern records where everything is in your face and loud. What's happened in the last 20 years is when people mix records, they mix records for radio, and that means there's no subtlety, no quiet bits, even if it's a ballad, it's a loud ballad, and so when I recorded and mixed this record I wanted it to have dynamics. I wanted it to have space and atmosphere, and I didn't want it all squashed and put in a box. I wanted it to feel in a weird way like the first Jefferson Airplane album felt.