On Tuesday I became a sputtering fan boy as I got to interview one of my musical heroes, Greg Ginn, for next Thursday’s Live in the Clubs story.

Ginn founded the legendarily abrasive, hardcore punk outfit Black Flag in the late ’70s. Along with the Germs, Black Flag initially epitomized the loud, hard, fast aesthetic of U.S. punk rock in the ’80s with a string of classic EPs and the 1981 full-length debut, “Damaged,” which also introduced the world to the juggernaut known as Henry Rollins. Later on, the group slowed down the pace, adding ever-more provocative elements of jazz, metal and even classical on their subsequent albums.

Although Rollins often steals the spotlight, Ginn was the real mastermind behind one of the most influential U.S. punk bands, writing most of the band’s songs and remaining the only consistent member throughout the group’s nearly decade-long existence. He’s bringing two new instrumental projects — Jambang and The Taylor Texas Corrugators — to Valentine’s in Albany on Tuesday, March 17. Check out the story next week.

I first heard of Black Flag through reading old interviews with Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain, who frequently mentioned the band as an influence. When I was a junior in high school, the drummer in my punk rock band at the time loaned me a copy of the band’s second EP, the five-song “Jealous Again.” The CD didn’t leave my player for close to half a year.

What really drew me in was Ginn’s guitar — the crushing, unbelievably brutal walls of distortion was the most aggressive, compelling thing I had heard at that point in my life. But it was the subtler nuances of his playing that really hooked me — the way the sloppily fired-off fills and leads in the title track sounded as if they were barely contained by the rhythm section, yet managed to evoke jazz players far more than they did typical rock ’n’ roll guitar gods. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard before, and I spent many a night at home with my guitar and amp trying to find Ginn’s punishing and yet surprisingly fluid, dynamic guitar tone.

You can imagine how giddy I felt when I found out he was playing locally, and that I would get to interview him. Just seeing his name pop up in my inbox at work was a cheap thrill of sorts — I idolized this man (clearly, I still idolize this man).

You’d think by now I’d be used to interviewing artists that I’m a fan of, but honestly, that giddiness doesn’t really ever go away. Last year when I interviewed Lou Barlow, bass player for Dinosaur Jr., which I’ve mentioned in this blog before, Brian the sweaty-palmed, nervous fan boy appeared again. When Alice Cooper played Proctors last October and I wrote a preview, it was the same situation. Or when I spoke with Arlo Guthrie for the third time last November. Or when I interviewed bassist Billy Cox, who played with Jimi Hendrix in Band of Gypsys, last October.

Hero worship, I’d venture, has been instrumental to the history of rock music. Without it, The Beatles would never have been inspired to pick up their instruments and try to emulate their heroes in the first wave of rock ’n’ roll. Artists emulate other artists, whether it’s music, visual art, film or writing (Lester Bangs, Hunter S. Thompson and Everett True are some of my favorite rock journalists, and without them I would never have gotten into this line of work).

So honestly, I hope that nervous feeling I get whenever I interview someone I’m a fan of never goes away. To me, it means that I still love what I do — and I’d argue that’s the most important thing one can have in this world.