DS Interview: Sammy Kay on the magical road to The Kilograms’ debut full-length, “Beliefs And Thieves”

The last time we caught up with Sammy Kay – like for real caught up, interview style, for the website – was a couple of years back. It was about his then-upcoming EP, Inanna. It was a half-dozen folk-inspired mostly acoustic tracks that grew out of a project to write sonnets. Twelve-to-sixteen lines, no repeating […]

The last time we caught up with Sammy Kay – like for real caught up, interview style, for the website – was a couple of years back. It was about his then-upcoming EP, Inanna. It was a half-dozen folk-inspired mostly acoustic tracks that grew out of a project to write sonnets. Twelve-to-sixteen lines, no repeating choruses, character-driven thought experiments. Backed by the likes of John Calvin Abney and Corey Tramontelli and produced by frequent collaborator J Duckworth, it was another journey down a road he’d been traveling for some time. “In my head, the last couple of years, I’ve been trying to chase fucking Woody Guthrie or Bob Dylan,” explained Kay when we caught up again last week about his latest project’s newest release. The running joke for a while was that Kay, who grew up in punk rock and ska-inspired bands primarily in the NY/NJ area before trading in his Tele for a Harmony Buck Owens acoustic, would only pick up an electric again as a mid-life crisis. But Kay is now 35 years old and, as he put it in a manner that is so quintessentially Kay, “the world doesn’t need another fucking Woody Guthrie or Bob Dylan.” Instead, Kay would come to realize; quickly – organically – magically; is that the world does need, a new project. A supergroup in the realest sense of the word. A band that will take queues from The Clash – both sonically and realistically. A band called The Kilograms.

Featuring Kay and punk rock legend Joe Gittleman (co-founder of Avoid One Thing and, you know, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones), the project initially started a little over a year ago as a one-off collaboration for the Black Sand Relief compilation to benefit a mutual friend, Michelle Ska, who lost everything in the Maui fires. “We got pulled into helping some friends do this comp just as like…I’m going to sound like a businessman…’consultants’,” explains Kay. “We were consulting with some buds on how to wrangle some bands for this thing for Michelle and we both were supposed to do some good.

In addition to their consulting roles for the compilation (which includes tracks from Catbite and Westbound Train and Spring Heeled Jack and The Pilfers and The Slackers and a bunch more second- and third-wave faves), the duo teamed up for the track “Who Am I.” As mentioned above, they of course named their collaboration The Kilograms (Get it? Kay and Gittleman? Kg? Kilogram? Get it?). And what started as a one-time thing very quickly sparked in both a newer and deeper creative streak in the two longtime songwriters. Kay – originally an East Coaster who, after a few stints in California, has called the greater Cincinnati area home for the last handful of years – looped frequent collaborator and Cincy native J Duckworth (Newport Secret Six) into the fold and the two began woodshedding ideas, trading them back and forth with Gittleman, who was back home in the northeast. “I don’t know if it was the sabbatical or free time or whatever, but Joe just was ripping all summer,” Kay laughs. “There was a point where I told Joe to stop sending me songs because we were both so excited and I couldn’t keep up with his output!

The Kilograms: L-R Kay, McDermott, Gorsline, Duckworth & Gittleman. Credit: James Walker.
Solo Sammy picture in the cover credit: Kim Moenich

The creative output alone meant that the project was destined to graduate from a writing exercise to a live performing one. Craig Gorsline, an old-time collaborator of Kay’s from the Sammy Kay and the Fast Four days, hopped in the proverbial van on keys. For the first handful of dates, Dan Alfonsi from Flatfoot 56 manned the drumkit, keeping the seat warm for the veteran Michael McDermott (ex-Bouncing Souls) to finish a summer run providing the backbeat in the legendary Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. Together, the band ripped through close to two dozen shows in the back half of the year, including a prime spot alongside Big D & The Kids Table at the latter’s annual Halloween show in their hometown of Boston.

In between shows, the band continued to write and record. The initial EP in February 2024 was followed by another EP in September. There was also plenty of work for their own outside projects in the queue. “The core of the Kilograms, right? All the members, we put out three fucking full lengths” last summer, explains Kay excitedly. “June, July, August – Newport Secret Six record (Rising Tide), my record (July 1960) and Joe’s record (Hold Up) this summer. On top of a 12-inch, on top of a 7-inch, on top of a comp, on top of a couple of digital singles that I did while working on a full length.”

Oh, about that full-length. The band continued to write and record ideas in their respective areas, trading tracks back and forth until they had enough for a legitimate full-length record. But it wasn’t quite right, yet. “We made the whole record remotely and it was OK. It was just fine,” explains Kay. “And then we had a couple of days off between some shows and it was like, well, let’s go to Pete’s. Let’s spend three days and set up a drum kit and a guitar and a bass amp. And me, Joe and McDermott ripped, I think we did 14 songs…” As is probably obvious, the “Pete” in question is the one-and-only Pete Steinkopf, who in addition to playing guitar for the iconic Bouncing Souls for thirty-five years, has been producing records at Little Eden Studio in Asbury Park for close to two decades. Wonderful records by the likes of The Loved Ones and Dave Hause and obviously the Souls and Space Cadet and, of course, Sammy Kay. “Me and Pete have been going for like twelve years now? This will be the fifth full-length record I’ve done with Pete, plus a bunch of other stuff and demos and a few splits that never came out.

While Kay is certainly no stranger to the unique setting that is Little Eden – still owned by longtime Souls manager Kate Hiltz – it’s the first time he’s recorded there without being a local. “I’ve always made a record in my hometown or in my region,” Kay states. “(This time), we stayed at Kate’s upstairs, in the bunkhouse and it was just real nice to be able to like wake up, walk to Frank’s, walk to (Cafe) Volan, have a couple of smokes on the beach, walk back to Little Eden and just plug in the guitars, you know?

Beliefs & Theives artwork by Joe Maiocco

The result of those sessions is Beliefs And Thieves, the band’s upcoming full-length debut. Due out in April on Rad Girlfriend Records and the band’s own Weights And Measures imprint, the album is ten tracks that run the full gamut of sounds that you might expect from a band that includes a Mighty Mighty Bosstone and a Bouncing Soul and, well, and Sammy and J and Craig. “I’m always leaning towards The Clash,” says Kay. “I think that if it was just a ska band, I would have been gone already. Like I would have done a 7-inch and the EP and said “okay, that was fun. We don’t need to do this.” Indeed, there are full Clash catalog references aplenty on Beliefs And Thieves. Case in point, on the song “Hard Lines.” “Hard Lines” was a completely different song that I ended up rewriting and we rearranged it in the studio. I got to say “trust me.” Sometimes when you say “trust me,” it works,” he declares rather emphatically. “Joe had a groove and it was OK, and I was like, “let’s lean Sandinista Clash, like “Junco Partner.” Just trust me.” And we did. And it’s really fucking cool. It’s really groovy.”

That trust is at the core of the relationship between the band’s core members (seven if you count Pete and Paul Kolderie, who mixed the record as he has with countless other brilliant releases and dozens if you count the band’s extended families, who’ve also become close in the year-or-so that the band has existed). “We’re all aligned in the sense of doing whatever we need to do as long as we leave the light on; as long as we leave the room a little brighter than we found it,” says Kay. “For the five of us to cannonball and just try and start a new project, and just be able to put out a seven-inch, let alone a seven-inch AND a fucking 12-inch EP AND a full length in a calendar year, and play twenty shows, that’s a fucking win.

Check out the lead single, “Beliefs And Thieves,” and all of the available pre-order options, and keep on scrolling to check out our extensive Q&A with Kay, which goes in to great detail on the band’s process. There’s a lot about the growing Kilograms family (go ahead and maybe throw a few dollars in the pot and help Sammy’s partner Liz in her grueling battle with uterine cancer, yeah?) and an awful lot about what it’s like to be in a room writing music with not one but two punk rock legends. Here’s a hint from Kay himself: “There’s Gittleman and McDermott. Like, that shit’s a masterclass.

(*Editor’s note: The conversation below has been edited and condensed for content and clarity. Yes, really.)

Dying Scene (Jay Stone): You’ve been releasing records for a long time now on your own. Does it feel different being a Kilograms full length?

Sammy Kay: Um, no. I just had someone ask me how the record was coming. I just got the master in, and they were like “are you stoked?” I’m like, “yeah, I’ll listen to it once.” And then I’ll make sure it’s good. I listen to it in the headphones, I’ll listen to it on the stereo in the house. I’ll listen to it in the car. And then when the test presses come, I’ll listen to it on like the junk record player, my record player. and then I’ll go to Jay’s. Jay (Duckworth, producer and fellow Kilogram) has like a nice system, you know? And if the test sounds good on all three, then we’re good. And then I don’t. I’ll listen to whatever song we never learn when it’s time to play a show.

Yeah, that makes sense.

I know already off the bat, like one song will never get played live. Or probably two. Like we’ll learn them, but they’ll never rotate in. There’s a little too much going on for that arrangement you know? But I’m also not mad about that either.

Are you at the point now where you’ll vary songs based on what the crowd is or what kind of lineup you’re on? Like if you’re on a ska show vs. a Dropkick show?

Yeah, absolutely. It seems like we’re about 20 shows deep now. We’re starting to figure out the right blocks, and we figured out the right blocks pretty quick. Figuring out where (the songs) live, you know? Like we just flipped a song that has been song five in the set to now be the second-to-last song. And it’s like, “oh yeah, that sits real good there and sets up the last song or the last two songs real well.” I’m just excited for us to learn all of them proper and start being one of those bands…None of us want to play the same set every day.

Yeah, right. 

Your first block and your last block is usually always the same, but to be able to just totally flip-flop the middle is what I’m eager for, you know?

Totally. You recorded this with Pete, yeah? 

We recorded this with Pete Steinkopf. The legend.

All together in the same room. Obviously we’ve talked quite a bit or texted quite a bit, so I sort of forget what you’ve talked about in interviews and what I just know, so some of this might be redundant to shit you’ve talked about. But was that really sort of around the first time that you all were all together? 

In a studio, yeah. It was the first run of shows that McDermott was around for. We did this run last May, and then McDermott was out with Joan Jett all summer and he flew in and we started doing some shows. And we essentially made the record…this is technically the third time I’ve made this record. 

I will say some of these songs sound like, wait, I’ve heard these, right?Wait, I don’t remember if I’ve heard this.

So we made the whole record remotely, and it was OK. It was just fine.So here’s how the Kilograms work. When we started, we did “Who Am I?” and then all of a sudden, me and Joe had nine songs right away. And then Jay threw a couple in the hat. I threw a bunch in the hat. Some things got removed. Joe was throwing a song in the hat every week that was done. And we were recording and then we kind of found ourselves with a record that was just OK. And no slight to us, it just needed to get done again. We started playing the songs. We found different little drum nuances or pattern changes or tempo changes. And it was like, “let’s do this right.” We had a couple of days off between some shows and it was like, “well, let’s go to Pete’s. Let’s spend three days and set up a drum kit and a guitar and a bass amp.” And me, Joe and McDermott ripped, I think we did 14 songs…We just hunkered down for three days, did drums, bass, guitar. We threw out all the guitar. It was just scratch just to get the bass locked in with Pete’s beautiful preamps. And then we went home and then me and Jay and Craig hunkered down for about a month, working three days a week and just built the songs. 

So that wasn’t necessarily writing new material at that point. That was like rounding out the sound of the songs that existed or writing new?

We were still writing. There are like two songs we wrote in the studio because We hashed out in the room, “Beliefs and Thieves,” “Saddest Songs.” “Fireworks” was written pretty much on the fly. I had it in my notebook, but there wasn’t a demo besides just me yelling at my phone. “Lorelei,” and “Ya Ya,” we had demos done for, like ready mix things. “Lie To Me,” there was a working demo that was almost there that we hashed out. “Hard Lines” was a completely different song that I ended up rewriting and we rearranged it in the studio. I got to say “trust me.” Sometimes when you say “trust me,” it works. And Joe had a groove and it was OK, and I was like, “let’s lean Sandinista Clash, like “Junco Partner.” Just trust me.” And we did. And it’s really fucking cool. It’s really groovy. And then I ended up rewriting the lyrics post-leaving because the words just weren’t lining up with the new groove. So that wasn’t on the first round. “Hoodie Song” has been floating since like day two, since Jay really showed up and became a Kilogram. But like probably seven of the 11 songs are pretty new. We had already kind of cherry-picked the bangers. “America In Black and White” was written the same time. Those were all that initial batch. Like everything that’s out now, plus like “Lorelei.” So when we recorded, we knew we could get five songs done in an afternoon because we’ve been playing, and then we had two days to get weird. “Battles” was a song that’s been around for a while, but we’ve done I’ve three or four different variations of “Battles” since it showed up. Like, different drums. We tried a couple different ways. But having Pete being able to do that with…for me to be able to go back and work with Pete after five years…

Yeah, when was the last time previously? Did he do Civil/War

Yes, he did Civil/War. Civil/War would be the last time I saw Pete in a room. And (this time) having Joe there with Pete and their long, long friendship and McDermott back in Little Eden where he would hide out (back in the day) I guess…it was just magic. Like, Little Eden is always magical, but it was just fucking magical

I was going to say; all of you have been around for a long time, but that sort of amalgamation of all of you together and that location and Pete and like that seems like it must have felt special. I mean, it felt special to me and I’m like three levels removed from that. 

And the coolest part was I’ve never like flown somewhere (to make a record).  I’ve always made a record in my hometown or in my region. We stayed at the studio. We stayed at Kate’s like upstairs and in the bunkhouse and it was just real nice to be able to like wake up, walk to Frank’s, walk to (Cafe) Volan, have a couple of smokes on the beach, walk back to Little Eden and just plug in the guitars, you know? Like, “all right, cool, you guys are going to get lunch, I’m going to take a shower, then we’ll get back at it.” But also be away from life and home and kind of the like, “well, shit, like, all right, guys, I’m going to bail out for half a decade (*both laugh*) or I got to walk the dog, or I have to go to work, you know what I mean?  It was real, real nice just to lock in and be there.  

And I mean, aside from Pete’s, but that’s nobody’s home turf. So you’re all able to just kind of shut everything else off and work on this.

Yeah. And I think that was the magic of like being able to cut whatever, 13, 14 songs in three days and like writing and learning things on the fly. 

It seems like this came together really quick. The whole band, I was trying to think back about, like, when you sort of told me that it might become a thing because it was sort of the joke, whether online or through text or whatever, that like that that mid-30s ska band thing, like, it’s like…

Like, it’s my midlife crisis. 

Yeah, right. And that was sort of the joke, like, oh, I’m never going to play an electric guitar again or whatever. And then this kind of happened. 

I have a midlife crisis tour van! I own a fucking piece of shit, 20-year-old fucking van with a tow hitch and a fucking broken TV in it. You know…Joe called me two Thanksgivings ago…so like 14 months ago. 

So I was trying to think about this timeline, that show you played in Malden with Amy Griffin and whoever else. But Joe was there. 

That was like the first time Joe came and hung out with me.

I remember talking to my brother after that once this band actually started, I was like, “I have to check with Sammy but I feel like I feel like we were there when this thing like happened. Like, I feel like we were sort of tangentially in the room.

I’ve known Joe for a while in passing, and I’d always ping him and be like, “hey, man, like, let’s think about this.” It was always like an industry favor, like, “hey, man, like any chance you could link me with somebody at Side One Dummy?” Like, “I have this record. Do you have a label that you think might be into it? Or do you have a good publicist?” And then while we were doing July 1960, I was like, “what do you think of these songs? They’re like sonnets? I know you’re a songs guy.” And we started really rapping. And he was like, at one point, I wanted him to produce that record because he produced the first Chuck record. Los Feliz is a Gittleman production. And he had a big part in the next record, too. And those records… I mean “The Boat” is “THE BOAT”… the boat is the boat. I feel like every interview, it all goes to Chuck Ragan. (*both laugh*) But I wrote him about like coming to Boston and wanting to go to Wooly Mammoth Studios, which is like, we’re the dude that engineered the Replacements records. I was like “let’s go hang out and make a Replacements record. And he was like, “no.” He was like, “I would love to. I’ve been making my wife Angie live on my schedule for like 30 years now or 40 years. Like, if you book the time and I happen to be there…but I can’t promise it.” But then we played that show in Malden. He came down for the weekend and he went to see Amy and went to see me. And we hung out and bullshitted. And he had some really, really sweet, nice things to say. It was big hugs and it was it was fucking cool. And then we got roped into helping some friends do this comp just as like…I’m going to sound like a businessman…”consultants.” (*both laugh*) We were consulting with some buds on how to wrangle some bands for this thing for Michelle and we both were supposed to do some good. So he wrote me, he just posted on Instagram like a screen grab, like, “hey, can you help me finish this demo? And we’ll just be like Sammy and Joe” and “I was like, yeah, sure!” And I called Jay (Duckworth). “Jay, Gittleman from the Bosstones wants to do this thing. What are you doing tomorrow?” He’s like nothing! Let’s buy smokes and tacos…

Yeah, right. 

You know, and then it just kind of spiraled out. 

So when did you feel like this isn’t just like a fun little project, and this is a real band now. Is that when Jay or McDermott get involved or…?

Detroit. We played Detroit. We played Cincinnati and it was the first show. I was like, “oh, shit…ee just played 40 minutes with the music and we said, ‘Hi, ‘we’re the Kilograms!” And that was great. And then we played Detroit the next night and it was off the fucking chain. And it was like, “oh, yeah, this is the thing.” We did those shows just to see if we could do it if we wanted to do it. We had Supernova booked. And then McDermott was out with Joan Jett, so Danny from Flatfoot filled in on drums. That’s when Craig came into it. We did those shows and me and Joe felt something magical, something fierce. And then it was like, “let’s do this.” We knew there was like…magic. Like, when you announce a record and it sells out eight hours later, and (people) have never heard more than one song, there’s some kind of excitement or magic, at least for us. Like this is some cathartic shit. This is a means to create with folks that like I’m grateful for. I mean, I’m grateful for everybody I get to create with. Like I love Corey. I love Todd. I love John Calvin. Right? Mitch and Will, all the dudes, whether it’s like the Sammy punk rock band or the (Seasonal) Depression, like the folk thing. But to be able to like…dude, there was a point where I told Joe to stop sending me songs (*both laugh*) because we were both so excited and I couldn’t keep up with his output. He’s been on sabbatical. He just went back to school to teach again, so he had just been like sitting in the woods writing songs. And it’s been…like we could go and make – on paper – another full length tomorrow. There are enough demos for a second record. You give us two weeks, we can knock it out. It’s really beautiful and cathartic. And Liz came with me on the last run of shows and so did Joe’s wife and the two of them were real cute because we never met Joe’s wife until the other day. And the two of them were like…you know, Liz has gone to see us two or three times, and Joe’s wife hadn’t seen it. And they were in the room together laughing like “we can’t really be mad at these guys for like the amount of time they put in.” 

Yeah, right.

It feels there’s something special here, at least for me and Joe and McDermott. McDermott is like…I’ll be like calling and bothering him about something like and he’s like “you know, I’m in this band, it’s really good. I have to practice the drums. Get off the fucking phone!” (*both laugh*). Even Jay is like one of my best friends. But even Jay gets like I’ve never seen Jay. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled this much playing music like on stage. I’m a stern motherfucker. I am like hating being on tour, always. Playing shows is my least favorite thing about the industry. I’m sorry, the 40 minutes I’m on stage telling stories and doing things (is the best). But everything that leads up to it.

The other 23 hours and 20 minutes. 

Yeah. I’m 35. I should be out of this game. I should have been out of this game. Like buying a van and getting in the van is a young man’s sport. And my sport these days is framing fucking bathrooms, man, like…

It’s tangible, though. Like prior to that show with Big D here, I don’t think I had talked to McDermott or Joe two decades anyway, maybe longer. And it’s tangible, the sort of joy that they have in this band, too. And even Joe said that directly. I don’t think it’s telling stories out of school, but because obviously he put out his record last year and it’s great and it’s a Joe Gittleman record. But we sort of talked about it a little bit just that night. And he was like, “I don’t really want to do an awful lot else with it for now because I really like this band! Like I’m having too much fun doing this.

Yeah, we legitimately opted to do a co-release on the record with Josh and Rad Girlfriend with the agreement that we are going to have our little label. We called it Weights and Measures. Myself, Joe, Jay, Craig, Dermo, whatever we want to do, we have the means to release. And have a conjoined mailing list and just have a little imprint that we can do whatever the fuck we want. Because at the end of the day, we’re just making music. And even if you look at the Gittleman record like this, I’m on a couple of songs, McDermott’s on a couple of songs. Jay engineered some stuff for some of it. Like we’re there, you know? You know, I engineered… engineer is a loose term, I hit record on a tape machine and line up a tape machine on Jay’s record. Me and Jay have collectively have released – between the Newport Secret Six and the Sammy whatever, 40 songs since I moved to Cincinnati. 

That’s wild.

Like the core of the Kilograms, right? All the members, we put out three fucking full-lengths this summer. June, July, August. Newport Secret Six, my record, and Joe’s record. On top of a 12-inch, on top of a 7-inch, on top of a comp, on top of a couple of digital singles that I did while working on a full length. And there’s more done that didn’t make the record or that needs to get mixed. The output is the magical part of this band.

Did you ever have a conversation about what the band was going to sound like stylistically or what you were going to write about lyrically? I don’t know if you guys necessarily sing the songs that you write lyrically, but some of this sounds a little more like you said, sort of Clash-like, outward-facing, like social commentary versus the solo stuff. Did you ever actually have a conversation about what it’s going to be like, “what are we going to sound like?”

The only conversation we really had was that we wanted to have fun. In my head, the last couple of years, I’ve been trying to chase fucking Woody Guthrie or Bob Dylan and the world doesn’t need another fucking Woody Guthrie or Bob Dylan. They’re a dime a dozen. And I personally feel like my one thing was just, I want to take notes from The Clash and ultimately their full discography, all band members, all bands, right? I want to take from Big Audio Dynamite, Latino Rockabilly War, The Mescaleros. And like my two cuts on the record, all of the shit that I got to do on the record, all I really wanted to do was have Craig playing organ and me laying on a floor spinning delay pedals and reverbs and Mellotrons reverse delayed with like the weird shit. Like, I want to go and be like sneaking Cumbia into punky reggae. I talked to McDermott the other day, we both really love this band Soft Kill. I stumbled on them about the time McDermott got off the road with Joan Jett at the end of the summer and jumped in the band. And I listened to it a lot. We’ve been having discussions about how we can sneak 808s and fucking drum machines under his shit now. That’s the next move. Like, “how do we get a sample? Do you have a sample pad? Can we start doing 808 shit?” The only agreement we really had was that we were smiling and having fun, and if we weren’t smiling and having fun, we were going to change that really quick. I’m always leaning towards The Clash. I think that if it was just a ska band, I would have been gone already. Like I would have done a 7-inch and the EP and said “okay, that was fun. We don’t need to do this.” But the fact they support me opening my mouth every night and shouting about things that are important in my life. I have zero censorship. We censored one line in “America In Black And White.” Joe said “you should have it be this,” and we changed it and we finished it and we immediately regretted the censor. It was “do we say ‘from Palestine to Mexico’ or do we say ‘from East Berlin’?” in regards to building walls? In regards to genocide? That’s the only time that any of us have said “well, do you really want to say that?” After we heard the master, we said “yeah, we should have said Palestine.” They let me shout about trans youth and about affordable healthcare and about how Luigi is not a fucking terrorist and the hills that I want to die on with equal thoughts and equal sentiments. We’re all aligned in the sense of doing whatever we need to do as long as we leave the light on. As long as we leave the room a little brighter than we found it. As long as we are trying to help build an inclusive community for all. That’s what human nature should be, right? 

That really gets to the core of what this scene has been about and should be about. Whether you look at The Clash or you look at Joe’s old band. Obviously I’m in my mid-40s and I’m from the Boston area, and as someone who grew up wanting to be a bass player, Joe Gittleman was THE GUY. And the Anti Racist Action stuff and the Food Not Bombs stuff that used to be so present at those shows…that was the thing. When they talk about “what radicalized you…”

Dude, Let’s Face It was my political awakening within records.

Question The Answers for me, but yeah.

As I got older I realized a lot of those songs were about addiction and recovery.

The scene got weird for a while and there’s been some negative element in and out, but I think it’s important to replant that flag every once in a while about this is why you’re here. This is why we’re here. This is why any of this shit matters. 

Exactly. At the end of the day…at our shows, I’ve got a microphone. And I’ve got 45 fucking minutes. And we’re going to be reminding you that this is a community. And that community is important. And whatever my rants and rambles might be that day, every show we’ve played, a couple people come up to me and say “thanks for saying those things.” I got a text right before we started from the kid’s old fifth-grade teacher. They and their family came to see us at 9:30 two weeks ago, and was like “hey, what you said on stage really affected my nephew in a good way, and they’re thinking about things a little differently now. 

So I’ve been told to ask about the song “Lorelei” because I live in a house of Gilmore Girls fans, and so I jokingly have to ask, is that written by like Christopher’s perspective or Luke’s perspective? 

(*both laugh*) Um, my favorite thing about Joe Gittelman and Joe Gittelman’s writing is that these people exist. I haven’t met Lorelei, but I met Lorelei’s dad, who’s an old-school Bosstones guy. And in recent show folklore, I got to meet Josie Bee, who is the namesake in “Glimmer” on Joe’s record. Chad Price is that way too. They don’t change names if they’re writing about somebody. I think in Lorelei’s case – and apologies if I’m speaking outta hand – but he just loved the name and wrote it down. I’ve talked to both (Joe and Chad) about it and I started doing the same thing. Like if I, if there’s a name – like Jim on 1960 is a friend of mine. I started doing the same thing. If I’m going to write about a story or that involves you, I’m going to reference you so you know I appreciate you

I’m not just going to call you Mary, like a guy from Jersey.

And I did that for fucking a decade, right? And now, it’s all like, if you were important to me that I want to tell a story or our story, I’m going to use it, you know? I think that’s honest and it’s fucking cool. Like, I mean I was stoked to meet Josie Bee. Like I was stoked to meet Lorelei’s dad, you know? So the Lorelei story, and this might not be a hundred percent true, the show I played in Malden, two days later was the Bad Time tour and Lorelei loves Catbite and somehow Lorelei jumped up and sang with Catbite. Joe was there, and Joe saw his old friend, and the friend was like “Oh, that’s my kid!” Lorelei, I guess, is in a band and I’m assuming they’re, you know, 16, 17, but, uh, Lorelei has a version of “Lorelei” too. I haven’t heard it yet, but it’s done, and I guess Joe was like, “let’s put out ours and then you can put out yours.” 

It is a good name. I mean, even for like songwriting, and especially for a bright sort of upbeat song like that. 

Yeah. Banger. Super fun to play. Love that song.  It’s later on the record, track eight maybe? 

It’s nine in the list that I have. 

Yeah, that, “Hoodie” and “Old Dog” at the end. 

What’s the actual release timeline? 

April 4th.

Quick turnaround for vinyl nowadays? Have things gotten back to normal? 

Things are back to normal. Cutting takes about four weeks. Then it takes like two weeks to get test presses. And then it’s once the test presses go and you’re clear, it’s pretty quick. Most places are like about 10 weeks if you’re doing it in the States. There’s a little press in Northern Kentucky, right outside of Louisville that Josh likes that I’ve been using. He did the seven-inch. They’re doing the full length and they have a pretty quick turnaround. The cutting is the hardest part from what I understand. Once you start, once you get your plates made, you can knock out a thousand records in a day. It’s just getting the plates made, you know? Because there’s only so many guys that are cutting. There’s so many wonderful, like three or four men, small businesses, putting records down in the States that even with merch, I’m trying real hard to keep everything like… I don’t want to do die-cut pins because they’re all getting outsourced. It’s all brokers. And the only guys that were doing it, I won’t use because they did some fucked up shit with the union and like, once their crews unionized, they fired them all. So like, that’s why I don’t have die-cut pins. I haven’t found a guy that’s doing them in the States that’s solid. Our merch is, is all, you know… the cotton might be made outside of the States, but we’re using sweatshop-free certified companies. We’re getting some bandanas made, like I found a guy that’s doing them in New Jersey and not in wherever, you know? There’s power in the union. There’s power in the fucking workforce, you know? That’s important. These guys trying to do these little presses and put records out, good for them, you know? I will support you as much as I can. 

Artwork is already done? Joe Maiocco I’m assuming?

Oh yeah. Joe Maiocco all day. He was the secret fifth Beatle of so many bands. James Walker did some stuff too. I love James Walker. But Joe did the full layout, inserts, whole nine. All the merch. Our buddy Josh (Jurk), who sings in School Drugs, did a shirt designed for Rad Girlfriend for us. 

That’s a rad band.  I’m not a hardcore kid, but that’s a rad band.

Oh, dude. I’ve known Josh since I was like 11 years old or something like that. We go back a very, very long time. Josh is the reason why I got a job at the (Asbury) Lanes. 

Really? 

Yeah. I would like cover for Josh when he had to go work at the Pony. I initially started filling in for Josh at Snack World at the Lanes. Josh is multi-talented and he’s always been that way. He’s like a great drummer, great guitar player, great songwriter, great graphic designer, great human being. But, uh, yeah, Joe did the art. It’s all done. I’m in shipping hell, you know, rates, figuring out rates and trying to figure out the projected rates are for three months from now. I’m excited. I just saw Joe texting me that “we already won!” Like Paul Kolderie mixed the record. He’s got more fucking Grammys nominations than I have teeth in my mouth.

I didn’t know that!

Oh yeah. Paul Kolderie is the only person that checked every box in my book. He produced and mixed all the Uncle Tupelo records. He also did like Devil’s Night Out and Let’s Face It and all those golden Bosstones records. He also fucking produced the Radiohead’s Creep

Really? 

Yeah, all the Pixies stuff. Hole’s Celebrity Skin? He fucking produced and mixed that shit. Massive catalog. And he did like the Toots and the Maytals record. He did like the third Bedouin Soundclash record, the “Walls Fall Down” one. Like okay, he can do ska, he can do punk, he can do shoegaze, he can do Americana, he can do weird. And I don’t really know about Grammys, but he’s definitely got more gold records than I have teeth in my mouth, you know? Which has been real epic because I’ve never worked with somebody like that. The closest I’ve worked with anybody like that is Jon Graber, who, you know, produced a NOFX record. He did a couple Fat Wreck records. He’s done a lot, but nothing of that caliber, you know? He didn’t do Kid A. And no disrespect to Jon. Jon taught me how to write songs. I thought I knew. And then I hung out with Jon for a little bit and my world got overturned, right? In the Sammy catalog, right? “Better/Worse” and “Methamphetamines” are Jon Graber’s production. That’s when the world opened up. Like, “oh, it doesn’t have to be electric guitars and drums and bass. Let’s put a marching snare and a fucking horn section on strings.” But me, Jay, Paul Kolderie, Joe, Dermo…we won. We made a cool record that we’re real proud of. So nothing else really fucking matters. I guess if we break even, then we’re happy. You know, we have to make back the investment on the press. That’s fucking fun. I was going to say, like, yeah, I hope people like it. I mean, sure, I do care, but I don’t care. We got to win. Gittleman sent me a cool guy sunglasses emoji three times and said, “yeah, this record’s pretty good. And then he said, “you know, we won, bud. We did the thing. And I was like, all right, cool. Cool guy emojis, sunglasses back, bud. 

It’s good that you feel that way before people have even heard it, right? Before people can even pre-order it. Because it’s authentic internally.

Yeah, we already put this out. It exists. We won. 

Whatever it does, it does. But the fact that you feel like it’s a win already is awesome. 

Dude, the win already is the fact that I’m the youngest and I’m 35, right? Craig’s 37. Jay’s 40. Dermo and Gittleman are pushing 60, right? (*both laugh*) Dude, the win is that somebody like myself or Jay or Craig, we’ve never been in a bus. Like, Jay’s claim to fame is he opened for fucking Weezer at a casino in northern Kentucky 25 years ago, right? Like, lovingly, you know? And Craig and me did the Fast Four, you know, like, with Tim and Ben and Chris from Catbite. Like, the Fast Four was the three of them and Craig, pretty much. Like, we were happy and content, but the win is that, like, Dermo and fucking Joe were in a fucking van, loading in, with the utmost respect and they’re stoked. Like, dude, starting a band is hard. Writing a record is hard, even for the best. Doing the fucking thing and committing, cannonballing a new product is not an easy thing. And essentially, like, with love and admiration to Joe, and even myself, like, starting over, you know? I’ve never been—I haven’t been in a band that wasn’t “Sammy and the…” in the better part of 20 years, 15 years. For the five of us to cannonball and just try and start a new project, and just to be able to put out a seven-inch, let alone a seven-inch AND a fucking 12-inch EP and a full-length in a calendar year, and play 20 shows, that’s a fucking win. 

I feel like, particularly because the way that you’re doing it is not— 

And we don’t even live in the same state!

Well, that’s what I mean, right. Right, that like, you weren’t in the same room writing together. You weren’t in the same room jamming ideas back and forth to each other. And that seems like a thing that none of you had done independently before, so now you’re all trying to figure it out on the fly. 

Dude, and on top of it, like, my childhood memory is listening to Let’s Face It with my dad, right? And the first time I saw The Bouncing Souls happened to be McDermott’s first show. 

Oh, wow.

In a fucking skate park. And McDermott shows up, and the first show he plays with us is in a fucking skate park. Like, all of these little things are just fucking magical. And it’s just a fucking win. You and I have talked enough, on record and off record, that you know I don’t give a fuck. I don’t need to be doing this. Like, most days I don’t want to be doing this. Sorry, I always want to be doing this, but most days it’s a struggle just being 35, Liz being sick, having an 11-year-old in the house, navigating all that and having a deaf dog. Making ends meet, like, trying to cover fucking cancer meds. Like, that shit’s hard enough. I’m just stoked that, like, we have this little crew, down to the spouses. All of the spouses are friends, you know? Like Jay…it’s not ever just Jay, it’s Jay and Mel Fox. Always. Like, the kid doesn’t want to see Jay, they want to see Mel. When we go to a show or go get tacos every once in a while – just to have this kind of circle or this new little family, and to have this beautiful bond so quick…there’s something cathartic about doing this. Like, I love music again. I love it. I love electric guitars. I love delay pedals. I love screaming into a crowd. And now they’re starting to scream back and that’s really cool. I’m 35, I’ve been playing punk rock music in New Jersey since 2003. I had never played the Stone Pony, and I had never played with the Bouncing Souls. Just getting that call was huge, you know? Getting to do Big D on home turf in Boston? We have another Boston show coming up in March. We’re playing at the venue attached to fucking Fenway Park with the fucking Dropkick Murphys, and our first Boston show was at the venue attached to the Garden with Big D. Like, who the fuck can say that?

Out of the gate, too!

Out of the gate! Again, I’m 35. I’m no spring chicken.

And you’re the baby!

Yeah, I’m the baby. But if we’re talking baseball, I’m like coming back off of ACL surgery. (*both laugh*) I’m like Joey Votto right now – well, I’m not the greatest – but, in my head, I’m on the farewell tour. Like, I’ve played four shows as Sammy Kay in the last 18 months. Maybe five shows. And two of those, I got asked to play the day of because somebody had to drop off. I’m not fielding shows, I’m not actively chasing that. I put out a record, and bless Sell The Heart, I was like “I don’t wanna play shows” and they were like “that’s fine, the record is good enough, let’s break even and call it a day.” I’ll play shows on it eventually, but right now I don’t want to. I’m loving playing guitar, and creating music, and it doesn’t feel like work or a chore. And it did. Even with 1960, I went to Jay’s twice a week, religiously, and the second we finished that, it turned into Kilograms world and I was going there religiously and working and working and working. And now that things are done, it’s like “holy shit…this rules.” I’m in a band with Gittleman and McDermott and one of my oldest bandmates – me and him swore we were never going to get in a van together again; not in a bad way, just like “we’re not doing this anymore” – and Jay, who’s been not my longest collaborator, but me and Jay have probably done as much music together as me and Pete have. Me and Pete have been going for like twelve years now? This will be the fifth full-length record I’ve done with Pete, plus a bunch of other stuff and demos and a few splits that never came out. But me and Jay have probably cranked out as much music as me and Pete have, but in only like two-and-a-half years. And like, writing with Joe, is fucking wild. There’s this kind of wonderful respect for what each other does, and I think we’ve finally figured it out. Like, “Lorelei” is all Joe. I might have helped change a couple lines, and that was just guidance. And vice versa, like “Old Dog.” Or he guided “Beliefs And Thieves.” I had a lot of that in a notebook in different phases and I smushed it all together. But I didn’t write a lick of music on that song. He sent me a song that was called like “No Good Managers” and I was like “I don’t know about those words, can I try?” And I had the line “anarchy at the Flying J” in my notebook for years, and I knew I wanted to make fun of Morrissey and I knew I wanted to make a statement about the upcoming administration. And I had “I try and I try my best but I still just stand conceited/nobody wins when we all just stand defeated” line.

Yeah, that sounds like a Sammy line.

That’s been in my notebook since the day Trump got elected. I’ve been trying to write that song for a long time. There’s like ten versions of that song that all had “viva Los Reno” as the hook, and then I wrote down “beliefs and thieves,” and once I had that, it all poured out. But Joe was setting me up. Like “Faith And Love” he had this chorus, and he was like “go do the thing.” And my thing was to tell the story. It’s beautiful, because I think he’s understanding how I write a little more and setting me up even better. Like in “Faith And Love” – “a little faith, a little love, I’m just another kid from a long long line of breakdowns” … that’s such a Sammy line!

Oh absolutely.

I didn’t write that! (*both laugh*) He just handed me that and said “do the thing.” Like “innocense and shambles, you’re hanging by a thread / thoughts of ‘Hallelujah’ is the chorus in my head.” That’s some Sammy shit right there! I didn’t write that! “Fireworks” is another example. “Fireworks” was this whole song except for the pre-chorus. Like, “every whisper said just a little too loud each and every night.” And it was like the chorus. And I was like, “no, that’s not the chorus, that’s gotta be the pre-chorus.” You can set it up to be something and he’s like, go with it, you know? Just the grace of being able to co-write and everything’s on the table. Like, “yeah, fuck with what I gotta say,” you know? And vice versa. It’s real magical. A lot of the record, man, like “Hardlines.” “Hardlines” is a song called “Born to Run.” By me. “Hardlines” was this whole, like, the big ending, the “one more road to roam,” that was the whole song pretty much repeated. And there was some, like, doubles. And then we recorded it, we got the groove, we did it. I did the overdubs and the vocals weren’t laying. I was like, “yo, can I just try something?” And that just happened. “Born to Run” became, like, the verses, the “is it okay, is it alright.” And then, like, there was another song on an earlier day for the record that got split up over like six songs. Like, the third verse of “Hardlines” is the second verse of that song. The “rosary feelings” line. And the outro of “Old Dog” is the third verse of the old song. And it just got spread out. There’s a riff that came from it that got moved to something else. It’s really beautiful because everything’s fluid with what I’m saying. It’s like, “oh, that didn’t work, but that riff ruled, so let’s remember that, you know?”

Is that stuff you were doing when you were sending ideas back and forth, or is that, like, when you’re finally in a room together in the studio or whatever? 

Sending back and forth, for the most part. Like, “Faith and Love” was done. We had the arrangement and we had GarageBand drums on it, you know? Like, we had the tempo set and we knew the gist of the song. “Battles” was like that. “Battles,” when we hit the studio, was like that. I think there’s three different, like, Jay iterations of it, you know? But for the most part, like, “Beliefs And Thieves,” like, the riff is there. Everything was almost note for note, the music.  I don’t know if it was the sabbatical or free time or whatever, but Joe just was ripping all summer. And, like I said earlier, there’s probably another six Joe songs that have, with maybe an hour’s worth of work each, could be a full another record. 

Have you talked to him about, like, what was his frame of reference with or his, I guess, level of knowledge of your music prior to this whole thing starting? I mean, did he have ideas like, “hey, that song or that particular album, let’s do something like that.” That seems like a huge leap of faith for somebody like Joe.

I think it was just a massive leap of faith for both of us. I’ve never really written with anybody. I knew he loved me. Like, we had played together a couple times. But I don’t know if he owned the records. I think it was just like, “oh, it’s Sammy. He’s writing a lot, I’m writing a lot.” You know, we had gotten a bunch of shows with friends of his. So I don’t know if Lenny (Lashley) had been like, “oh, Joe, do you know Sammy?” Or Big D. Like I’ve opened up for them for fucking almost 20 years now, you know? But, yeah, I’m not really sure how much of what I was doing came in. I don’t think it really mattered. 

It feels like it was just destined to work. And I don’t know if that’s like New Agey or whatever, but it feels like it was just destined to work.

Yeah. Liz and Angie were saying that, like…there’s a picture of me and Joe that Liz or somebody took in the backstage of The Pony of us, like, after the set, sitting with our legs crossed, looking like we’ve been friends for 30 years, you know, like 20 years, like old friends.

Yeah!

That’s like the really beautiful, magical thing about this band is that, like, we all, like, locked in. Even Wes, who you met in Boston…Wes is now tour managing. 

That’s great. 

Because I got a lot on my plate and just trying to relieve a little stress for me. He got in the van just to fill in for fucking three shows and McDermott was like, “that’s a tour manager. He’s coming everywhere with us.”

That’s awesome.

Like, when you fucking find your people. Building a band or being in a band is no different than finding your wife. Like, you’re in. You know when you find your people, you find your claim.

Yeah, right.

I’ve said it a dozen times. There’s something fucking magical about this that, like, no matter what happens, we win. We did something really cool. We all are on the same page, like, doing the fucking thing. We’re doing something. We got a hill that we’re standing on together and, like, unified. If one person doesn’t want to do anything, we don’t fight it. 

Right.

If it doesn’t make sense, let’s not do it. You know, you can challenge it. Like, I’ve said, “trust me” a couple of times. Jay said “trust me” on some mixes. Joe said “trust me”. Like, Dermo said “trust me.” But, like, if someone say “trust me,” you trust him and you see it through. You stand by your fucking crew. You know, you stand by and say, “all right, let’s fucking do this.” You know, even if it’s, like, dumb shit, like, “I want to do a shirt color that’s this color. I don’t know if it’ll sell, but, like, let’s try it.” And it works. It works, you know? You just gotta fucking do the thing. And it’s real great when there’s a crew that’s ready to go down with the shit, doing the same fucking thing, you know? 

I’m glad you did it. It’s not just because I like the music and I like you and the guys, like, separately and collectively. But I’m glad you did it. Like, this project makes me happy for you, for the band, for the scene. Like, I’m glad you guys did this and are doing this. I’m glad you are doing it. 

And selfishly, like, I love McDermot’s drumming in the Souls. I love it. I love it. And it’s nice to see Dermo, like, shredding on the drums, playing ska-punk and punk.  And, dude, like, I’m sure Avoid One Thing will do another record or would have done another. I don’t know. Like, I’m just stoked that, like, there’s Gittleman music in the world. 

Absolutely.

There’s Gittleman and McDermott. Like, that shit’s a masterclass. We don’t rehearse often. We usually rehearse for, like, two hours the night before we go play shows. But just sitting in that rehearsal, watching the two of them walk in and go. Like, first song is like, “all right, cool, we’re playing music.” Second song is like, “all right, there’s some cobwebs.” Third song is, they just become this well-oiled machine. And it’s just a fucking masterclass. Watching two people legitimately listen to each other while they’re playing and being able to work off of each other without fucking looking at each other, without cueing each other, just by hearing, like, “oh, Joe hit the A string, he’s about to hit a fucking shredder.” And Dermo will lay back and then immediately come back with a shred. Like, like a call and response. Or, you know, watching Jay, like…you know it’s starting to go when he starts spinning. 

Yeah, right, right, right. 

And God, I hate using the word frontman, because there’s not really frontman in this band. But as the guy that yells a lot, having the confidence with that rhythm section and with two old, old friends. The stage is split, right? I got two guys that I’ve been in the trenches with for a long time, and two guys that have rightfully earned their place in American history. Being able to just do what I like to think I’m okay at doing, and never have to worry is just fucking epic. At the end of the day, I think I’m the worst musician in that band. I’m the worst player, I’m the worst at music theory, I’m the worst at a lot of things in that band. But for some reason that shit doesn’t matter. You know? 

Right. 

Just because I have such a sturdy foundation to stand next to, you know? I’ll say it again, man. It’s just fucking magical. It’s a really beautiful. And if this shit lasts for a year, that’s cool. We got a year, you know? If we get another record out of this, fuck yeah. And if we don’t, like, that’s cool too. We did something cool. We did something that we’re fucking proud of. That we feel like we won. And that I, as both a fan of everybody in this band and their respective projects… The kids’ still got something to say. And I’m hoping the kids also want to hear what we got to say. 

I mean, I have no concept of what people like and what they don’t, clearly. But I think people will dig it. I mean, Joe fans in and of themselves will dig it. And then, like, obviously, you and the rest of the guys expose that to a wider audience. But, like, Joe’s obviously got Joe fans. They’re gonna love it. I’m happy for you guys, man. I’m proud of you guys.

Nora Googled Joe, and was like, you understand you’re in a band with a guy that created a genre? Yeah?” And I was like, “I’m real grateful for that every day.” You know, that’s a cool fucking thing, man. Like, to be able to create with him and then create, like, the palm of my hand is the Bouncing Souls logo. (*both laugh*) You know, like, Derm did some solid work with them for a number of years, you know? It’s a pretty beautiful thing. It is a pretty fucking beautiful thing. Which is why I think I’m loving slinging a hammer as much as I am, because I’m creating. I’m really enjoying, like, staring at a deck or, like, I just saw a room that I framed it out and, like, demoed the whole thing; like, I took it down, reframed it, like, and there’s a bathroom sitting there. It’s like, that’s a finished product, you know? It’s a cool thing. Just to have something, you know?

Yeah, to have a tangible thing that, like, you created, whether you did it yourself or you helped other people and you created it together. There’s nothing else like that, I think.

There’s nothing else like that. That’s the ticket.

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DS Book Club: Chris MacDonald’s “Days And Days – A Story About Sunderland’s Leatherface And The Ties That Bind”

I have a confession to make. Despite being in the age bracket that I think people refer to as “of a certain age” – read as: closer to 50 than 40; closer to 60 than 20 – I kinda missed Leatherface the first time around (1988 – 1993). In fact, I’m reasonably certain that I […]

I have a confession to make.

Despite being in the age bracket that I think people refer to as “of a certain age” – read as: closer to 50 than 40; closer to 60 than 20 – I kinda missed Leatherface the first time around (1988 – 1993). In fact, I’m reasonably certain that I not only “discovered” Leatherface sometime after I started writing for Dying Scene in 2011, which was not long before they disbanded A) a second time and B) for good. And if I’m being COMPLETELY honest, I’m also relatively sure that I first dipped my toe in the venerable waters after first diving into Frankie Stubbs catalog after getting to write a handful of stories about his Little Rocket Records releases and tour plans and all that. It was then and only then that I learned that this band that I knew was held in such high regard by bands whom I held in such high regard – bands like Hot Water Music and Samiam and Gaslight Anthem – was held in such regard for a reason. The band hits like a sledgehammer. They’re also a classic case of “why wasn’t this band intergalactically massive?” except that in hindsight, they were probably too “alternative” for mainstream punk and too punk rock for mainstream alternative and Frankie’s heartfelt lyrics and gruff, vaguely Lemmy Kilmister-esque vocals probably were just a little too unique to propel the band into the stratosphere they rightly belonged in, meaning they were destined to be a linchpin band in the scene. As MacDonald points out, “Leatherface is a band that was destined for something greater than their cult status.”

But wait, this isn’t a review of Leatherface, the band. Instead it’s a review of Chris MacDonald’s wonderful and unique and new and probably long-overdue book Days And Days: A Story About Sunderland’s Leatherface And The Ties That Bind. The Ontario-based punk rocker and tattoo artist takes a compelling approach to chronicling the life and times of your favorite band’s favorite band. It would have been well within his right to start at the beginning and tell the respective stories of Stubbs and Hammond and Crighton and Lainey and The Eagle and Philliskirk and Burdon and the remainder of the crew that filled out the respective lineups and how they cut their respective teeth in Sunderland and beyond and that would have been wonderful. It would have been equally within his right to compile a series of stories from the likes of the Hot Water Musics and the D4s and Samiams and the laundry list of artists whom the Sunderland legends have influenced in myriad ways over the decades. In fact, MacDonald does a commendable job of doing both of those things simultaneously.

What sets Days And Days apart from your traditional band biography book, however, is the personal context that MacDonald adds to the story. Woven throughout the stories about the band’s history and influence are stories of MacDonald’s own history, particularly the mid-to-late 90s, which was a time period that saw the band itself initially split up and reunite half a decade later after Crighton’s death. Like many of us who are “of a certain age” and had punk rock delivered unto in the early 1990s, MacDonald fell fast and hard and the music matched his energy. His initial ‘discovery’ of the Leatherface in particular – also after their initial hiatus – was not unlike the experiences that many of us had for bands that became OUR bands. It was an introduction not just to a band and a sound and a poetry that was like no other, but a stronger connection to a community at large; the beginning of an understanding of the ways that many of us relate to and communicate with one another.

The other central thread in the book is an epic journey that our storyteller and his friend and fellow punk rock aficionado Jason (not me) embarked on a quarter-century ago. Over the course of seven weeks in the summer of 1999, the two went on an ambitious journey from London to Dublin. By way of most any mode of transportation you can imagine and with little in the way of a formal plan in the days before widespread cell phone and internet access, the duo wound through places Leeds and Manchester and of course Sunderland and Edinburgh and Glasgow and Belfast and Donegal. There were several pivotal Leatherface-involved moments along the journey that I won’t spoil for you here, but suffice it to say that the trip would test not only their individual mettle and the bonds of their friendship, but like the process of quenching and tempering steel that took place in the gritty ship-building towns like Sunderland, would prove to strengthen their identities and their connection to the scene at large.

The book itself is quite a bit of a journey to embark on. Most of the individual chapters are brief and the individual threads are woven back and forth throughout the tapestry, and if you’re not paying attention, you might get yourself tied in knots trying to remember which timeline we’re on. The venture is incredibly worthwhile though. If you’re a fan of Leatherface (or Franke Stubbs solo I suppose) the band history as ‘peasants in paradise’ is riveting. If you’re just a fan of the scene in a broader sense, you can insert your favorite pivotal band in Leatherface’s place and no doubt identify with the fandom aspects and appreciate the level of import that the music builds in your life. And frankly, if you’re a fan of travel stories – albeit ones written twenty-five years after their journey – it’s a compelling tale of struggle and the increasing knowledge of the self that said struggle can build in us as humans.

MacDonald’s book is available at all the normal booksellers. Obviously buy from a local place if you can. As an added bonus, you can also catch Frankie Stubbs and Graeme Philliskirk together again in Roach Squad, alongside Sim Robson and The Murderburgers’ Alex Keane and the one-and-only Hugo Mudie. They put out a few tracks last month on Little Rocket Records (obviously) and they rule.

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DS Interview: Chuck Ragan on the eight year journey to “Love And Lore”

Imagine it’s early 2016 and you’re Chuck Ragan. You’ve just put out your latest studio record, a unique release called The Flame In The Flood. It not only serves as the soundtrack to the 2017 video game of the same name, but it’s also your fifth solo record in less than ten years, and you […]

Imagine it’s early 2016 and you’re Chuck Ragan. You’ve just put out your latest studio record, a unique release called The Flame In The Flood. It not only serves as the soundtrack to the 2017 video game of the same name, but it’s also your fifth solo record in less than ten years, and you got to make it with some of your buds like Jon Gaunt and Joe Ginsberg and Todd Beene in the shed/studio on your property in Northern California. You’ve also got a wife and a one-year-old at home, and your main musical squeeze, Hot Water Music, is getting busy on what will – by my math – turn into their eighth studio record, Light It Up (and pulling together what will turn into the Keep It Together compilation double album). Because of the thematic nature of The Flame In The Flood, you’ve still got some other thoughts and ideas and new music of your own that you’re woodshedding, so you keep sending ideas to your conspirators and keep stockpiling music for the next, more traditional solo record.

But life has a way of making other plans. In addition to normal family matters and balancing his fishing expedition business, the Light It Up tour gets an interesting wrinkle when your brother-in-arms, co-frontman Chris Wollard, has to step back from the touring life to help his mental health find equilibrium, so you weave a new spark plug, The FlatlinersChris Cresswell, into the fold. There’s a follow-up HWM EP, Shake Up The Shadows, which is released in time for the band’s 25th anniversary, so of course there are all of those festivities. You finally book some solo time in the studio for early 2020 and a global plague breaks out. Somehow, you manage to stay at least virtually connected with the Hot Water crew and producer Brian McTernan enough to put out a new record, Feel The Void, in 2022, touring on that album when it seems right to do so. Then you FINALLY get to start recording your new solo record, only you realize you’re right at about 30 years of Hot Water Music and so there’s ANOTHER new Hot Water album, Vows, and 30th anniversary tour to pull off, so you push the new record back even more.

And that’s just a fraction of the things that could have derailed the project entirely…day jobs and family matters and shall we say “acts of god” have a funny way of throwing monkey wrenches into your good intentions. But it’s also a testament to the labor of love that is Love And Lore. Throughout the extended run-up, Ragan would send ideas to frequent collaborator Beene to fill out or rework or, sometimes, just go wild with them. The pair finally got together in the studio with Gainesville’s Ryan Williams, Hot Water’s live sound person and frequent audio recording engineer, and a cast of characters that includes George Rebelo on drums, Spencer Duncan on bass, Jon Gaunt on fiddle (obviously) and guest vocal appearances from Chris Cresswell, John Paul White and the wonderful Paige Overton. I hesitate to call the final product the crown jewel of Ragan’s solo work because I feel like that implies it’ll be his final work, and he is very much in fact still always writing new music as a means of connection and expression and therapy. But I do mean to imply that it’s great. Familiar and fun, yet some sounds we’ve never really heard from a Ragan solo record before. More rock-and-roll. More attention to the full-band sound, rather than songs grounded in just Chuck and an acoustic.

We caught up with Ragan via Zoom from a backstage green room in Germany, where Hot Water had just finished soundchecking for the Hanover stop on their 30th anniversary tour. We talked at length about the trials and tribulations of making the record, and the conscious decision to allow the music to flow in new directions. We talked a lot about the difference in songwriting for Hot Water versus writing for a solo record. We talked about the impact of turning 50 at the same time the band turned 30 and what those legacies mean. And of course there are some teases for tour plans that’ll keep him busy in 2025 and beyond. We should have talked about how cool it is that he and his HWM brothers got awarded keys to their collective hometown of Gainesville, Florida, last month, but I ran out of time. Anyway, keep reading down below. And make sure you pick up Love And Lore. You’ll be glad you did.

(*NOTE: The conversation below is edited and condensed for content and clarity*)

Dying Scene (Jay Stone): Thanks for doing this. Especially given time zones and daylight savings time and being on the road in a different country…this is awesome. 

Chuck Ragan: Excellent. Well thank you for having me, man. Stoked. 

Me too. It’s been a while. I think the last time you and I talked was like Hot Water Music’s 25th anniversary, and here we are at like the 30th, which obviously we’ll talk about your record, but congrats on the 30th anniversary of Hot Water and on turning 50 last week. Those are two pretty awesome milestones, man. 

Thank you, bud!

When you line the math up, I don’t know why I never really considered it, before. But I said, “wow, like 30 years of Hot Water and turning 50 means that that like you guys were 19, 20 when Hot Water Music started.” And it’s really bizarre to think about it in those terms that like, yeah, as sort of monumental as it has become…you guys were kids!

I think if I remember right, George is the oldest. And then me. And then Wollard and then Jason. So if I remember right, we were all like 18, 19. Jason was 18. Yeah, I believe so. 18, 19 and 20. Sure enough. 

And obviously that makes sense. But it’s bananas to think about 30 years down the road … If you’re 19-year-old Chuck Ragan, right, could he ever foresee a day where Hot Water Music is still alive 30 years from now? And frankly, that you’re still alive 30 years down the road? 

No, no way. I mean, in those days,o ur mentality was so different, you know? We didn’t even come close to looking past the age of 22, much, you know, 30 years older. (*both laugh*) And yeah, you know, as far as the band goes, we were always…I’ve talked about this before…we were always a very much short-term-goal oriented band being kids. We just didn’t have the thought process to think that far ahead. So everything was definitely, you know, the short-term goals of let’s write three songs, you know. And then we would just put our heads down and work to achieve it. Then it was make a demo tape and figure out what we’re going to call ourselves. And then it was play a show. Then it was play the Hardback, you know. And then it just kept going like, oh, let’s try and do a tour. We never thought that we would end up playing thousands of shows and countless tours and or even coming overseas.

Right. Just to think 30 years ago, like 30 years down the road, you’d be having a Zoom conversation from Germany with someone like me. The amount of things that had to change in that time. 

Sure enough. Yeah. You know, a lot of sacrifices. And over the years and which, you know, I think anyone has to make in any line of work, especially if it’s an independent type of work or you’re some type of artist, musician, a contractor, any type of tradesman, you know? If you’re out there hunting and looking for your own security and you definitely have many, many moments and months of that feast or famine, where you’re wondering how the hell you’re going to keep the lights on, how you’re going to feed yourself. And then especially when family comes into play, you know, you tend to sometimes have to make a lot of sacrifices to continue whatever that is, whatever that you’re grinding for, you know?

And you keep making (those sacrifices). And so that’ll transition us nicely into talking about this little guy (*holds up Love And Lore vinyl like he’s a late-night talk show host*). What a great record. Love and Lore, it’s the new record. It’s on Rise Records, right? Yeah, I have that right. What a great record and what a labor of love it seems like it must have been, because the last time you and I talked about a Chuck Ragan record was 10 years ago, which is bizarre. Was there a time where you didn’t think it either would or should happen, to have the next Chuck Regan record come out? 

I mean, I kind of…I never have any idea when the next thing is going to happen. You know, I feel like I’ve kind of… I stopped chasing stuff a long time ago in the sense that I feel like I don’t I don’t have (to do this). I’m not doing this because I have to do it. I’m doing it because I love it. And at the end of the day, first and foremost, it’s something I need to do. It’s a part of my therapy, a part of my own healing process and reflection and understanding. And I mean, you’re you’re holding one of my journals, right? 

Yeah, right. 

That’s what it is to me. I would like to think we’ll always be proud of what we’re doing. And we do enjoy making records and having projects and playing with amazing people. But to me, the closure aspect of creating something from ideas and emotions and, you know, scribbling stuff down on papers and matchbooks and random thoughts and ideas and whatnot and coming up with parts and collaborating with friends. And then when you transition into a studio and start to materialize these ideas and lay them down, record them onto something in a way where you’re chiseling that stuff into stone. And you get to a point where you’re like, “that’s all I got. That’s as good as I can make it. That feels right to me. I am now leaving it alone.” And from there, it’s taken and physically stamped, pressed into wax that you are holding there. And when I get that at home and I pull that out and put it on my record player and pour a glass of bourbon and sit back and play it more often than not, in all honesty, it’s like, often the first and last time I ever play that record.

I’m sure, yeah.

And it’s very much like kind of picking up an old journal, you know, and reading through it, closing that book and sticking it on the shelf and moving on to the next. 

Yeah, and the amount of time that it takes for vinyl to be pressed nowadays must play into that too. Obviously, you recorded this album, what, essentially a year and a half ago at this point? Or at least started to? Is that right? 

(*laughs*) I mean, the timeline on this record is kind of insane. (*both laugh*) The idea of even making this thing began in 2016, you know, and there were already a handful of songs in the works before that, or at least like bits and bobs. 

Is that around Flame in the Flood time? Like, was it sort of an extension of that or not an extension of that, but same sort of writing? 

Yeah, some of the demos. And I mean, that’s how my writing has always gone is, you know, there may be a song on a record we put out today that began 15, 20 years ago, you know? I just have tons of archives and old demos and parts and, you know, a little crummy recording where I’m just singing gibberish and maybe a couple lines that I wrote down and it’s one part or maybe a verse and a chorus and that’s it. And, you know, there’s stuff like that laying around and it’s become a lot easier over the years with these with phones and whatnot to just grab it and lay down an idea and you archive all this stuff. And then I’ll sit down when I make the time to actually write and work on songs and look at stuff. And if I don’t have something on my mind right then and there that just kind of drives me to grab a guitar and sit down and just get something off my chest – which happens often too – but sometimes if I get stumped, I’ll scroll through all these archives. I’m like, “what’s that thing? What’s that thing?” And every once in a while, something will jump out at me that either charges me up, makes me feel something or seems perfectly relevant to focus on in that moment, where I sit back and go, “oh, wow. OK.” And then kind of sit back, decipher it, figure out where I’m at with it. And sometimes it rolls smooth and sometimes I’m beating my head against the wall, you know?

How do you narrow it down? I mean, if you’ve got that many ideas going over the years, if you’ve got parts of 10, 20, 50 different songs going, how do you narrow it down? And it’s like, OK, let’s actually put our like focus on making a record and then figure out which 10 or 12 of these go together. That’s got to be daunting. 

Yeah. Usually for me, like my rule of thumb for that has it’s been this way for quite a few years. However many songs are going on or are on that record, I want to go into the studio or at least in a project mindset with twice as many. Like I want to I want double the you know, if there’s 12 songs where I want to go in with 24, 25 ideas, right? Often it’s a hell of a lot easier when you when you’re working with people you respect and that you you move with, you get along with, musically like-minded folks. You know, sometimes those projects move faster like that and kind of determining what it is. But to me, I always looked at, you know, creating songs moreso in a way of discovering them rather than me creating them or me writing them, if that makes sense. It may sound weird. 

Yeah, sure. 

I feel like they’re all there. They’re already all there. All these topics that we’ve all sang about, that everybody sings about, every writer writes about or filmmaker…like it’s all the same stories, all the same topics. So all these stories are there. They’ve been there. You know, we have our own perspective of what that is. But essentially the bare bones of, you know, the story of love and conflict or war…it’s all the same. I’m not creating any notes, right? Any chords, right? They’ve been created, all the beats and the rhythms, like everything’s there. And so to me, I feel like it’s my process is more so doing my best to open my mind as much as possible to see the path, you know, to see where it’s meant to be, see where it’s supposed to be. It’s already there, I just have to connect the dots. 

How fleshed out are all these ideas when you go into the studio? I mean, I think Todd Beene is all over this record and obviously everybody loves Todd Beene and you’ve worked with him forever. But yeah, is he sort of all over this record? And I feel like it’s in a different way than he has been before. 

Yeah, yeah. 

How fleshed out was that idea going into the studio? Did you write together before or do you just kind of let him go be Todd Beene? 

And yeah, for Todd, Todd’s brilliant. And I would love to have him even moreso a part of everything that I do in the writing processes and everything. I just think he’s wonderful and he’s brilliant. A lot of these songs, like I said, I mean, many of them were worked out pretty good, some of them or at least a quarter of them, you know, in the very, very beginning and would slowly kind of add another to the batch. I was sending Todd demos, you know, back in…Yeah, back in twenty-sixteen, twenty-seven, that early. You know, and it wasn’t until twenty eighteen because we signed that I signed this contract in twenty-sixteen with Rise. 

Oh, jeez. 

Yeah! At the time I was working directly with Craig Ericson and (Sean) Heydorn over there, some great folks at Rise, but mostly just communicated with Craig. And I told him Hot Water was fairly busy at that time. And man, I have no idea when I’m going to even finish songs, much less make this record. And he was real mellow and like he’s like, “oh, man, anytime you want, could be a year, five years, I don’t care. Do it when it feels good.” And so that immediately took the pressure off. Maybe made me a little lazy about it.

Maybe took too much pressure off. (*both laugh*)

Yeah, right. Right. And, you know, at the same time, I had a baby, I had a two-year-old, you know? And so home life was way different when it came to actually working on songs and music. And it was, you know, and sleeping and everything changed when kids came in the picture. It wasn’t until 2018 that I got in touch with Todd and was like, “hey, man, I really want you involved in this record.” Because Ryan Williams, myself and Todd Beene did the Flame in the Flood out in my shed on my property, in the shed studio. And it was just such a great experience. I just wanted to do that again, you know. And so we started sending him demos and he would lay stuff down. He would work on stuff. We’d talk about structure. He’s very much, you know, involved early on. Some of them were pretty fleshed out where at least there was here’s the verse in the chorus and another verse and a bridge and whatnot. And, you know, but Todd is completely brilliant and I trust him so much when it comes to, you know, arranging. I love his taste in music. I love his ideas. And this one, I just I kind of wanted him to go nuts. And I think he did, too. He took the session to his place. And, you know, once he gets in his wild of electric guitars and pedal steels and everything in his home studio, there’s no telling what’s going to come out of there, you know. 

But it’s great that you give him the freedom to do that. You could go in saying, “I just want to pedal steel for this third” or whatever. But you trust in him to be able to say, look, do what you’re going to do because it’s going to be awesome…

A hundred percent. I mean, I definitely have my opinions and I like, you know..

It’s still your name on it.

Yeah, like “I need this one stripped down,” you know? “Let’s just kitchen sink it, you know, have some fun.”

Yeah. Yeah. 

So but yeah, it was a hell of a process, man. We got serious in 2018 for a minute and started, you know, had some demo sessions in Florida, actually got into the studio, started laying stuff down. And then the plan was to really hone it through in 2019 and get into the studio early 2020. And we were scheduled to be in the studio in April of ‘20. 

And what’s going on that month? (*both laugh*)

Yeah. World shutdown. Monkeywrench in the gears. I just had to do whatever I could do to provide for the family. And then, you know, fast forward again, we were in you know, twenty twenty-two and finally got another session on the books and that had to move for some reason. It just seemed like this record for the longest time was…just if anything could go wrong, it was just going wrong. Or not even going wrong, just just kind of putting the brakes on us. Ryan Williams, him and his wife had a beautiful baby while we were actually in the studio. 

Oh, wow!

Yeah. He one day literally was like, oh, oh, oh, I guys, I got to go! (*both laugh*) And we were like “you go, we’ll lock up, man!” 

Yeah, right. That’s wild! 

That was the end of the session! Luckily, I had finished all of my vocals and guitar. I’d finished all of my stuff. Todd Beene then had to take the session up to his place and while he was there, a tree fell on his house. So that put brakes on him there.

Of course it did, yeah. 

You know, relationship madness, like just you name it, it just kind of kept coming. And then when we were finally ready, it got way too close to this whole Hot Water Music 30 year campaign. So then it was us who decided, all right, now that we’re done. Let’s just sit on it! (*both laugh*) 

Right. Right. Sure. It’s been this long. 

Put it out later.

Yeah, I feel like as you know, life exists on social media. So I feel like in watching through social media, I remember you and Todd and a few other people posting stuff from the studio, probably late 22, early 23, something like that. And as a fan of yours, like solo parallel to your work in Hot Water, I thought “oh good! It’s been seven years since the last Chuck record, this is awesome!” And then another whole Hot Water album came out. Obviously, Vows came out this year, so I’m like, what the fuck? Like, where’s the Chuck record? (*both laugh*) Do you think the album would have come out differently…would it sound differently or be themed differently if none of that stuff happened and if you had actually recorded it in, let’s say, 2019? 

A hundred percent. There’s no telling what it would have been, you know? I think I think there because, you know, a lot of my songs, the majority of our music, my stuff, Hot Water music, you know…even though they stem from dark places at times like there’s always got to be some hope. There’s got to be a glimmer of hope. There’s got to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Like that’s a crucial element in making music for me because I’m doing it to heal.

Right. 

That’s the reason. And I’m doing it for myself and my friends and my community, right? And like so it being a healing process, you know, some of these songs, like tend to come from, you know, places that aren’t all that pleasant at times. it  can be a dark place. And, you know, there was I mean, there was some uncertainty. There was some darkness kind of between that, you know, from the time you’re talking about, if we were to do it in 2019 to, you know, 2023, a lot a lot of darkness around. Whether we like it or not, if you’re creating anything, you know, or expressing anything, you know, whatever is happening around you within your life, within your community, your neighborhood, your society, in the world, like it’s going to come out if you’re, you know, just reflecting and just trying, you know, doing your best to stay genuine to yourself and the work that you’re doing, it’s going to leech out, you know. Yeah, for sure. I think who knows what it would have been, you know, I don’t know. 

You’ve talked before, obviously, your songwriting is very personal and you’ve certainly shared stories like with the Wayfarers. I’m a proud early member of the Wayfarers Club. And so you’ve obviously talked about personal stories that go into the Hot Water songs like “Remedy,” for example. And so your Hot Water writing has always been personal, but it feels like your solo work is like differently personal, if that makes sense. It might all still come from darkness, but it seems a little more like actually focused on the light and focused on sort of the family aspect of things more specifically than Hot Water. Hot Water might be like a little more general, the concepts. And it seems like…is that a conscious thing that like if it’s a Chuck Regan record, it might be a little more like explicitly personal? Or do you even think about it on those two terms? 

That’s a really good question, you know. To me, usually it’s kind of one in the same writing often at the time that I’m writing. The last thing I’m thinking about is this is one of my songs and this is a Hot Water song. 

Interesting. 

Until I play it, because the majority of the writing that I’m doing, I’m playing on a Martin, you know, unless it’s time to work on Hot Water stuff. And, you know, I’m communicating with the gents and we’re just like, yeah, we need to plug a guitar in, And I am like writing for Hot Water music, you know, playing like I would just beat the hell out of the thing, you know. But usually a lot of like a lot of our songs that ended up like “Much Love” or “Habitual” or, you know, a lot of these songs, these were old demos on an acoustic guitar sitting on the porch from, I don’t know, 10, 15 years ago, somewhere. And, you know, back then I had I had no idea, you know, that this is going to end up on a Hot Water music record in 2024. 

Yeah, right.

So, yeah, I don’t know. That’s a great question. I think that when it comes down to really honing the stuff, music definitely kind of evolves as I’m working on these demos and there’s definitely moments where I’m like, yeah, that that definitely would fit in the Hot Water catalog more so than than my stuff.

Is that more true musically or lyrically? Or both? 

Probably musically. Yeah, I would say.

So, for the lyrics, I mean, obviously you might have a line or part of a verse or a chorus or whatever that stand-alone that you build off of. But do the lyrics sort of come last in a case like that? But you don’t write lyrics differently for Chuck Reagan versus for Hot Water, I guess?

That happens a couple of different ways. Sometimes I’ll just go on a tangent, you know, and write like I’m writing poetry, more or less. You know, and sometimes it’s a mess. It’s run-on sentences and it’s like just dumping, getting stuff off of my chest. And who knows, you know, I can’t say I would say, you know, for the most part, lyrics get honed at the end. You know, often demoing this stuff, we’ll sing just straight gibberish. Like I was saying about discovering the songs, like, I think the story is already there. You know, the note, everything’s already there. And there’s an energy and an emotion and a feeling that gets us started in the first place. And it’ll come out in a melody. It’ll come out either in a guitar melody, a vocal melody or both kind of combined. And to me, it’s important to, like, tap into that energy right then and there, whether I have words for it or not. Some of the time I don’t! I mean, I’ll hit record sometimes and, you know, make sure nobody is around (*both laugh*) and just start howling at the moon, you know?

Right, right!

You know, the Wayfarer folks have probably heard, you know, some of this and this isn’t stuff that I would normally play for anyone, you know? It took quite a few conversations between us before we kind of let some of that out in the Wayfarers club, because, you know, it’s just so exposing, you know? And just knowing or not knowing, I guess, how crazy it may sound.

Yeah, yeah! (*both laugh*)

I mean, I listen back to it sometimes I’m like, oh, my God, I’m out of my mind. I’m just tunnel vision, in some kind of vortex. But it’s important to tap into those energies when they come to us, at least for me. I think a lot of songwriters do things differently, but for me, as a way to just get stuff off my chest, that’s how I’ll do it. And every once in a while – and I’d have to think longer on why it possibly works this way – but every now and then I’ll just be dumping and a phrase will come out or a word will come out, and many, many times – more often than not, it dictats the path or the meaning of the song. I think it’s something subliminal that I need to get off of my chest but I don’t know how to do it. IT’s like, you know what you need to say, you know what you have to get out, but you haven’t been able to articulate it. Like your wheels are turning faster than your mouth can speak. 

In regards to your solo music – since you never really know when you’re playing it live what format it’ll take: it could be you, it could be you and Todd, or there was a time when it was you and Jon (Gaunt) and Joe (Ginsberg) and maybe (David) Hidalgo. Obviously you know when you write a Hot Water song, if you ever play ti live, that’s pretty much what it’s going to sound like and all those same guys will be there playing their parts. But when you’re writing a song like “Wild In Our Ways,” which is an awesome full band song and could be such a Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers track, but are you conscious when you’re writing it that “this is going to sound different when I’m playing it live”?

Um…I don’t worry about that stuff now as much as I did at one time. I have at moments had that mentality, because the majority of the time I’m going to be playing by myself or with Jon or with Todd, so I’ve definitely had those moments. When we were doing Covering Ground, Joe and Jon and I, we were mostly just playing as a three-piece. It made sense to add Chris Thorne on there and Todd on there in little bits, but the bones of the record I needed to be – all the drums on the record were very stripped down and sparse, and that was intentional. But at some point, I started to realize that I may never play a show for these songs. So it became “why not let the song tell us what it needs?” If we’re feeling it and if the vibe is right and we want to throw drums or keys or you name it on there, let’s just have fun and make the best recording that we possibly can. That’s the vibe. That’s the mentality. And then hopefully it’s a song that can still stand up on its own when you strip all of that stuff away if you need to.

And I’m sure that if most of that material starts with just you and a Martin writing, it’ll end up translating pretty well as just you and a Martin playing if it needs to. 

Yes, absolutely!

I know you’ve got European solo dates coming up next year, is there a plan to do things here in the States next year too?

Yeah, absolutely Jay. We’re going to be announcing a ton of stuff. We have US dates, some Canada dates. We’ll be getting out and about. 

You and Todd, or you and Todd and others, or is that an “all will be revealed” situation?

It’s going to vary from tour to tour. So much of it has to do with logistics and budget and a lot of different factors. We’re going to have fun whichever way we do it.

Have you brought Mr. Grady Joseph out on tour with you at all? I know he’s obviously seen you play, but have you brought him out on the road and let him experience other parts of the country like that and watch how you work and travel now?

Yeah, he’s been to a few places and he’s had fun. If we’re ever playing, that dude is on stage singing and dancing and he’s bringing it. Recently Hot Water played San Francisco followed by Sacramento, and my family came out, and he road on the tour bus from San Francisco to Sacramento and slept in a bunk. And maybe it was just because I was a lot more sensitive because I had my kiddo with me, but I was like “man, we are loud!” (*both laugh*) After a show when everybody is back on the bus and before everybody goes to bed, man, that volume goes up! (*both laugh*) He was trying to sleep and he was like “it’s too loud!!” so I had to put ear muffs on him so he could get some sleep. But we had a ball. He loves it. When he’s there, he’s a band member and we love having him. He has the heart for it.

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DS Interview: Smoking Popes’ Josh Caterer on thirty years of “Born To Quit,” their longest tour in decades, and more!

If you’ve even casually perused the Dying Scene archives at any point over the last fifteen years, you’re no doubt more than a little bit aware of the significance of 1994 in the annals of history. As a cultural touchstone (or more accurately a punk rock subcultural touchstone), it’s probably second only to 1976. While […]

If you’ve even casually perused the Dying Scene archives at any point over the last fifteen years, you’re no doubt more than a little bit aware of the significance of 1994 in the annals of history. As a cultural touchstone (or more accurately a punk rock subcultural touchstone), it’s probably second only to 1976. While the latter saw bands like Ramones and Sex Pistols open the door for bands like The Clash and the scenes in the Lower East Side and London and eventually LA; the former blew the roof off the building, with bands like Green Day and The Offspring changing the sound of what qualified as ‘popular’ music and allowing the Rancids and the NOFXs and the Bad Religions of the world to not only create decades-long careers for themselves but to create exposure for another tier bands who have truly provided the life’s blood to the scene in perpetuity.

Enter Smoking Popes. The Chicago-based foursome centered around the trio of Caterer brothers (the golden-voiced Josh on vocals and guitar with brothers Eli and Matt on guitar and bass, respectively) and Mike Felumlee on drums released their sophomore record, Born To Quit, on their hometown’s Johann’s Face Records into the maelstrom that was 1994. Thanks to the modest radio success of lead single “Need You Around,” the album was picked up by Columbia Records and rereleased the following July, spawning even more modest success, the release of the now-classic “Rubella” as a single, and the use of a bunch of album tracks in movies like Tommy Boy and Angus and Boys.

This year, the Popes marked thirty years of Born To Quit with a celebratory reissue of sorts. I say “of sorts” because this isn’t your basic “remastered” or “remixed” or “repackaged with bonus content from the archives” edition. Instead, since control of the original record still lies in the corporate clutches of Capitol Records, the Popes decided to take a page from the Taylor Swift playbook and rerecord the album for release on a new label, Ryan Young of Off With Their HeadsAnxious & Angry. Earlier this year, the band gathered at Bombsight Recording Studio in Bloomington, Illinois, to update and redo the record. Rather than rework each song track by track or turn it into an acoustic record or something of the like, the band actually compiled a studio audience of a few dozen people, hit the “Record” button, and pulled it off live on the floor, sans overdubs or modern studio magic.

Because the original was largely recorded live on the floor in studio three decades ago, the two releases have a largely similar feel. The new one sounds a tad crisper and cleaner, but it’s still punchy and raw in all the right places. Plus, it features a cameo from the one-and-only Deanna Belos (Sincere Engingeer) on “Gotta Know Right Now,” whose vocal take in the second verse and chorus give the song an interesting wrinkle of immediacy. Despite being recorded live in front of a studio audience (unlike Josh Caterer’s two quarantine-era solo live albums, each recorded effectively in empty bars), the lack of banter or improvisational moments still create the feel that you’re listening to a studio record and not a traditional live album.

Always one of our favorite music scene folks to chat with – you can still see our (*both laugh*) Quarantine Chat episodes here and here – we caught up with Popes’ frontman Josh Caterer via Zoom from a hotel room in Worcester, Massachusetts, before the sold-out Boston stop on the band’s lengthy – and now completed – US tour opening for The Get Up Kids (editor’s note: here’s what the aforementioned show looked like!). We spoke at length about the recording – and re-recording – processes behind Born To Quit, embarking on their longest tour in decades, navigating what it means to be a working punk rock band circa 2024, and, perhaps, a sneak peak at what the band has in store for next year…tours? Music? Find out below!!

The following interview has been edited and condensed for content and clarity. Cover photo credit: Chris Tracy

Dying Scene (Jay Stone): Thank you for doing this. It’s been a while.

Josh Caterer: Yeah, and it worked out today, time-wise, because it’s a day off for us. And so we drove from Asbury Park. We’re playing in Boston tomorrow.

You certainly are. I’ll be there. 

Oh, good, good, good. But we’re staying in a place that I’m told is pronounced Wor-ster. 

Worcester.

Worcester.

Worcester, yes. 

But it’s spelled Worchester. 

Yeah, like Worcestershire sauce.

So there are syllables in there that you just ignore. 

Yes, it’s very Massachusetts. 

Who has time for three syllables when you can just use two instead? 

Yeah, and then you actually got to cut the R off the end, so it’s Woostah 

Woostah!

Yeah, Worcester… W-O-O-S-T-A-H…Worcester.

But so yeah, we checked in here a little while ago and just kind of chilling for the evening. Perfect time to do an interview. 

How’s tour going so far? It seems like a long one for you guys comparatively, at least since COVID. 

It is, especially if you include the two weeks in Europe that we did starting at the end of July. We were over there for two weeks, home for 10 days. Then we started the Get Up Kids tour, the first leg of which was three and a half weeks, home for 10 days again, and then started the second leg. So it all feels like one big tour. And it’s pretty cool. It’s been going great, but it feels long. It’s long enough to where we feel like we just live out here now. 

Does it feel like the old days in some speaking? Granted, touring has changed a lot since like 94, but…

Yeah, I mean, we have not done this much touring in this short amount of time since the 90s. So, yeah, it’s old days for us. But better. 

I was going to say, how has that part changed in 30 years? 

Back then, there was a lot of substance abuse and general destructive behavior going on. So we weren’t really enjoying it…we thought we were enjoying life, but in reality, we weren’t enjoying life as much as we are now. 

Who’s in the touring lineup now? Is it the three brothers, Caterer and Mike in this edition or is it you and Mike? 

My brothers are not touring right now because they both have little kids. So it’s me and Mike. And then on guitar, we have Jack Sibilski who plays in a band called Telethon. 

Sure. 

So we’re kind of borrowing him. And then on bass, we have Reuben Baird, who’s been playing with us on the road for a few years now, because even before they had kids, my brother Matt decided that he didn’t want to tour anymore. Like basically, he got married. He wasn’t in being away from home. So we started asking Reuben to fill in and he’s officially our tour bass player. 

I feel like I have seen Reuben live. I feel like one of, I can’t remember the last time you were in Boston or where the last time I saw you was because I’ve sort of seen you all over, but I feel like Reuben was there last time.

Yeah, he’s been with us for, I wish I knew the exact number of years, but I don’t. But it’s funny because on the road, people will give Jack kind of a hard time for being obviously the new guy, the fill-in guy. People come up to him and ask him, where’s Eli? What are you doing here? But nobody says anything to Reuben because he looks like a Caterer. He’s got the Caterer hairstyle for sure. (*both laugh*)

You know, I feel like that actually sounds familiar now from the last time I saw you. I know that that’s not Matt, but maybe that’s like the cousin.

Yeah, maybe they put Matt into some sort of a stretching (machine), put him on the rack. (*both laugh*) 

So let’s talk about Born to Quit, the live session. So when we have talked the last couple of times, we’re about live albums that you did solo, essentially in front of nobody during COVID.

So this was a chance to do a live album with the actual four, the three Caterers and Mike who were on the original album, but with a little bit of a studio audience. We had about, I think there were 60 people in there. 

It’s at a studio studio, right? It wasn’t at like a live performance venue.

Yeah, it’s at a recording studio where we recorded most of our new album that’s coming out next year. A beautiful studio called Bombsite in Bloomington, Illinois, which is pretty close to where Mike lives. And so, you know, the idea was to kind of do, in essence, a “Taylor’s Version” of Born to Quit. But then that evolved into, well, let’s get some people in there and do like a small studio audience. So it’s sort of a live album, but because it’s in a recording studio, it has the production quality of a studio album. It’s sort of the best of both worlds, I think. And, you know, we got to do like most of what ended up on the album was just a single take of things. But there were three or four songs that we did a second take of because we felt like there was a little something wonky in there that we could do better. But as Mike pointed out after, we ended up, even in those cases, using the first take for most of those. And there were no actual overdubs. I know like a lot of times on a live album, the live will be in air quotes and all the vocals have been re-sung and the guitar solos have been redone. But now this is actually as it happened, warts and all. And it was pretty cool because the crowd that had assembled there were people who were really passionate about that album and many of whom had like flown in from different parts of the country. There was even a dude from Ireland there. 

Wow!

And so it just felt really special. It felt to everyone, including us, like we were kind of showing some reverence for the material and trying to do it tastefully and sort of not change it too much. There are a couple of moments where we veer from the original arrangement. For example, we did a duet. We did “Gotta Know Right Now” as a duet with Deanna from Sincere Engineer

The wonderful Deanna Belos.

Yeah, she’s just great. So we had her sing the third verse, but we had to change the key. So we had to like modulate coming out of the guitar solo from D to G. And so that kind of changes the flavor of the song.

But to have her vocal on it, it brings a whole new element to the song. It’s pretty great. 

Yeah!

And she sort of gets after it, too. She’s capable of doing harmonies, but she really made that gritty, I think. That’s an interesting element to add to that song.

If we had kept it in my key and that was her original suggestion, just like leave it where it is and I’ll just sing in your key. But it would have been really low for her. And so she wouldn’t have been pushing her voice up to where it really sounds great. You know, when she kind of starts getting screamy and her voice shreds a little bit, it’s really awesome. So we wanted that to happen. 

Sort of changes the context of the lyric a little bit, too. Like people say, “it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it.” There’s a certain sort of like delicacy and earnestness to the way that you sing it. But then when she sings it, it’s like grabbing you by the throat. It’s like, hey! This is time sensitive! I need to know right fucking now!

Yeah. She brings a kind of a manic quality to it. 

Right. It’s great. Sort of a two-part question, but a lot of those songs that you have played, you’ve played for quite a while and they have been sort of staples in the set. Are there songs that sort of grew as you played them live over the course of the last 30 years that you had to sort of cut things out of to make them more like the studio record, like extended solos that you might do during “Rubella” or something like that? Are there songs that sort of you had to morph back into the original because of the way that they’ve changed in the live setting over 30 years? 

No, we weren’t thinking in those terms. Like a song like you mentioned, “Rubella.” We’ve always played, we have not changed the structure of that over the years. And so Eli is doing the leads that lead into every verse. And I think he kind of improvises a little bit, but they’re fairly similar to the original. And I think some of Mike’s drum fills are different than the original recording. And I’m not sure about the tempo. He might play it faster now, but it’s not significantly different. Same with “Midnight Moon.” I mean, I think the two songs on this album that are different, like noticeably different than the original studio versions are “Gotta Know Right Now” and “On The Shoulder.” And usually when we play “Gotta Know Right Now” and Deanna is not with us, we do stretch out the solo and make it this kind of call-and-response guitar solo thing. And then I’ll kind of like sing other things over that part of the song and just kind of just have fun with it. But yeah, we didn’t do that. But we weren’t getting it back to the original. We were doing a completely different thing. But then with “On The Shoulder,” we haven’t played that song much over the years. It’s not a regular part of a live set. So it was cool. And it has been cool since we re-recorded the album to start bringing that back into our set. That’s one of the songs that since we haven’t played it that much, it still kind of feels fresh to us. And there were a couple of songs on the album that are like that, like “Can’t Help The Teardrops From Getting Cried.” 

I love that song, but yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever heard it live.

I think we played it three or four times in front of an audience. And now I’m not even sure why. I think we had an idea that it just wasn’t going to go over well with audiences or it didn’t rock enough or something. But now that we’re playing it again, it’s like, “oh, this is really fun! This feels good to play!” Especially the guitar in there is fun. So it’s good to dust off some of those. And it’s like, “hey, old friend, welcome back into the fold.” 

Yeah. And it does, I mean, it sounds like a live album, but then so I’ve gone back and listened to the original. Obviously, we’re in an age where people don’t listen to albums straight through as much anymore. And much to my chagrin, I’m as guilty of that as anybody. But I’ve been going through and comparing and contrasting the original album with the live session. And A, it’s been really fun. But B, it sort of made me wonder how much of the original was recorded live in studio? Meaning like, how was the original tracked? Because there are parts of it where it almost sounds feel-wise similar, like you record it live and then maybe just overdub the vocals.

That is typically our approach to recording is that all the rhythm tracks are recorded simultaneously. So all the drums, bass and rhythm guitars on that album were recorded at once without really any fixes or overdubs or anything. And then we would go back in and I would do my vocal take and any guitar solos. And I feel like we only ever did a few takes of any song. We’ve never been a band that’s going to do 10, 15, 20 takes of a song. 

Yeah.

You know, we go in and we’ll do two or three takes. And if you do three takes of a song and it’s not feeling good, you’re not going to get it by doing more takes. Take a break.

Yeah, right. 

You know, go and have a burrito and come back to it later because it’s not clicking. 

And you weren’t writing in the studio, right? Everything had been written ahead of time and worked out ahead of time. So when you go in, it’s like hit record and go. 

So all the arrangements were already set by the time we went in. We couldn’t afford to write things in the studio. Back then we were saving up money from our little minimum wage jobs until we had enough for a studio session. So we didn’t have time to mess around and go in and record two or three songs and mix them all in one 12-hour session. 

Oh, wow.

Which is a fun way to do it. And one thing I do remember, though, is that on the song “Gotta Know Right Now,” on the original studio version, I went back and redid my vocal takes or did what was supposed to be a real vocal take. But I remember Phil Bonnet just kept saying, “I don’t know, guys, I really like that scratch vocal track. There was just something about it. And I think you should consider using that, even if it wasn’t EQ’d properly and it’s a little bit distorted.” So you can hear that, especially on the higher notes, like, “I gotta know RIGHT now!” It’s a little distorted and that wasn’t me roasting my voice. That was like overloading the track because it wasn’t EQ’d properly. 

Oh, wow. I’m going to have to go back and listen for that again. Something I’ve probably heard a thousand times, but not realizing what it was. 

Well, yeah, I know that was a Phil thing. He was amazing to work with because he was always more interested in how something felt than perfect. So on our recordings with him, there are these mistakes that we left in that just had a certain, they brought a certain character to it that he always really liked. But then when we got around to doing Destination Failure, working with Jerry Finn, who I have no complaints about because he was a genius in his own right. But he was much more meticulous about making things perfect. And if one of the strings on one of our guitars was slightly out of tune, he would stop the song, go over there and we’d have to plug into this huge chromatic tuner that was mounted into the wall and get our things had to be perfect. 

That’s awesome. The way you record now, is it sort of an amalgamation of the way that you’ve recorded on those early records or have you just sort of figured out your own way of doing things now? 

Yeah, it’s just a continuation of the way that we were doing Born to Quit, really, especially on this album that we just finished recording that’s coming up here. Because we’ve recorded this one like two songs at a time. And so it has taken us a really long time to make this record. I think, you know, Born to Quit only took us maybe, I don’t know how many months, it says so on the album, but maybe six months or so to start to finish. But this new album, it has taken us well over a year, just because we’d go in and record two songs. And then I would keep writing and we would get together very occasionally to work on arrangements. And then maybe three or four months later, we’d go in and record two more songs. So the process is just stretched out. But it’s basically like the same approach that we had on Born to Quit, where just all the basic tracks, rhythm tracks, are live simultaneous, and I overdub my vocals. I think the difference now is that we tend to put more layers of things on our music, especially with Eli in the studio. He is very creative and nuanced and will get ideas about little atmospheric things that can be added to the track. And so on our last couple of albums, he’s been really inspired about that and done some great guitar work that I don’t think we were capable of when we made Born to Quit

Yeah, he used to post stuff like that. I feel like pre having a little one, he used to post a lot of stuff like that on his Instagram, a lot of like atmospheric things he was sort of creating, just not folks related, just like stuff he would put together in a studio or in his house.

Yeah, he’s great at that. 

I forgot about that until you just mentioned it. 

Yeah. And I’m always delighted when he brings some of that to the Popes recording sessions. 

You put this live session out on Anxious and Angry, and I know that Ryan is a very big Popes fan and has been forever. Who approached whom about doing that? Because he doesn’t necessarily put out a lot of records as anxious, like he does a lot of merchandise and things, but he doesn’t necessarily put out a lot of records as Anxious and Angry.

Right. Well, he not only does our merch, but he just has a close working relationship with our drummer, Mike. Those two guys are really good friends. And so I don’t know who approached whom, but somewhere in their relationship, they were talking at one point and got the idea that we would do our album on Anxious and Angry, which seems great to me. Ryan’s been great to work with. And we’ve played some shows with Off With Their Heads. And not only are they a great band, but they’re cool people to be around. So I’m all for exploring that. I’m not sure that that means that we’re necessarily done putting things out on Asian Man Records. We’ll probably release, hopefully, more stuff on Asian Man in the future. It just sort of depends on what we’re doing. 

I was going to say, are you allowed to spill the beans about where next year’s new album is going to come out or is that to be revealed? 

Oh, I think I should wait on anything else about that. (*both laugh*)

I really dig the live records that you were doing during COVID from the sort of empty bars and that whole atmosphere. But I like this new version of Born To Quit. It’s an album I’ve listened to, like I said, a thousand times. And it’s enough like the original that it’s not like bands obviously will do complete reimaginings of records and strip them down. That has its place, but I don’t necessarily want that. 

These are songs I’ve sung a thousand times. “Need You Around” wouldn’t sound the same. And that was part of the discussion, too. We knew we wanted to do something for the 30th anniversary and that it would be too much of a pain to try to license the album from Capitol / Universal.

Do they still have it? 

They still have it. We get it back in a few years, but we don’t have it back yet. And so we needed to create a different version of it. And early in the discussion, we were thinking of doing the old acoustic version, which I mean, there are a lot of pretty cool examples of that. First that comes to mind is Superchunk did an acoustic one of their albums recently, and that’s cool. I know Bayside has done that. A lot of bands have done that and we considered it. But I don’t know, just the more we thought about it, the more it seemed like at least my feeling about it was that a couple of the songs, particularly “Need You Around,” is so dependent on the drum beat that any attempt to soften that or diminish that is just going to defang the song. And so it needed to be a full volume rock and roll version of it. And so that’s why we ended up doing it the way that we did. 

Yeah, and I feel like it sort of changes when bands do that. It sort of changes the way that you tour about an album, because if people get into the acoustic versions, then they’re going to want to hear you play the acoustic versions. But if you go out with Get Up Kids and they’re not doing an acoustic set, then it seems sort of weird to have an opening Smoking Pope set with a mini acoustic set in the middle. To me, it messes with the flow of it. Not that it’s inherently bad.

It just sort of changes the whole approach, I would imagine, to how you perform those songs. Yeah, I agree. 

Not inherently bad.

Right. And I feel like a lot of what we’re doing live as a band depends on there being a certain energy and a certain momentum to the set as much as I love doing acoustic shows, those are those are a different thing than going Smoking Popes live.

Yeah, I think increasingly, like every time I see Smoking Popes, I’m like, you know what? That band rocks. And that increase, that amplifies itself over the years too. Sometimes obviously bands will lose a step or three with age and with a lot of miles on their tires, but every time I see the Popes, I come away thinking “they just keep getting better, and they just keep rocking harder.” More shreddy guitar solos! It’s awesome. The pendulum usually swings the other way so I’m glad it isn’t.

I’m glad it isn’t too. Maybe eventually it’ll have to swing the other way because we physically won’t be able to rock as hard as we do now,

See but I think with your voice especially, you can still “rock” for longer than some people. You don’t have a screamer’s voice. Bands like Strung Out or whatever have put out acoustic record and Jason has put out side projects because he’s like “I can’t scream when I’m 60 the way I can when I’m 30 or 40.” I feel like as long as the voice is in place, the rest of the music is going to be there.

Thankfully I have a singing style that doesn’t overly strain my voice and it doesn’t shred my vocal chords. I don’t smoke anymore, I don’t even drink anymore, so that effect that alcohol can have on the voice, from the acids or whatever

Whiskey and cigarettes sound great on a voice but they do shorten the shelf life a little…

But then you end up sounding like Bob Dylan (*both laugh*)

Yes! And as much as I like and respect Bob Dylan…I’m sort of glad I haven’t seen him recently.

Yeah, I’m a huge fan, how could you not have tremendous respect for him? But his voice has been shot for a couple decades at this point!

Whereas Neil Young, who’s basically a contemporary…his voice has been shot since the beginning so it didn’t matter.

Exactly! It’s only as shot now as it was before! (*both laugh*)

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DS Photo Gallery: Big D and the Kids Table, Thumper, The Kilograms and Folly celebrate Halloween at Boston’s Big Night Live

It was a bit of an early Turn-Back-The-Clock night at Boston’s Big Night Live last Saturday as long-running ska punk favorites Big D and the Kids Table resurrected their epic Halloween show tradition at Boston’s Big Night Live. Joining them for the festivities were a couple of regionally iconic bands – Thumper and Folly – […]

It was a bit of an early Turn-Back-The-Clock night at Boston’s Big Night Live last Saturday as long-running ska punk favorites Big D and the Kids Table resurrected their epic Halloween show tradition at Boston’s Big Night Live. Joining them for the festivities were a couple of regionally iconic bands – Thumper and Folly – and a relatively new supergroup (The Kilograms), a sort of Voltron made up of some longtime scene heavyweights – Sammy Kay, Joe Gittleman, Michael McDermott and J Duckworth. Despite being a four-band bill (seriously…a four-band bill? In this economy?) the 5:00pm doors, speedy changeovers and hard 9:30 curfew meant this was a perfect show for “The Olds” such as myself.

Hailing from the wilds of northern New Jersey, hardcore/ska crossover band Folly kicked off the evening’s festivities in blistering fashion. Accompanied by a nearly seizure-inducing endless strobe-lit stage show (that did wonders for a rank amateur photographer such as myself), the five-piece blazed through a half-hour set that set the stage for what was to come. The band got back together a couple years ago, nearly a quarter-century after their original run began, and while they might be older and wiser, they haven’t lost much of a step in their ferocity.

Next up was The Kilograms. Now I would be lying if I said this wasn’t the set that I was most interested in catching. While the collective number of shows that the band’s members have played in their previous endeavors numbers well into the thousands, this event marked not only the fifteenth show in the band’s history together but their first-ever show in Boston, which is obviously the place where Joe Gittleman earned his status as a genre-defining scene pioneer. I’ve been hip to the project – which came together fairly organically and almost entirely existed in the virtual world of Al Gore’s Internet before finally playing a show together back in May – since essentially the beginning, so it was great to finally see them together in the same room. Outfitted as the Gallagher brother’s New Jersey nephew, Kay takes center stage, although he and Gittleman and Duckworth take turns sharing vocal duties, at least when the latter isn’t spinning like a top at stage right. McDermott, who I hadn’t seen play in the almost dozen years since he left the Souls, kept the beat as steady as ever, letting the three-headed monster out front bob and weave and create their blend of rocksteady ska. Special shoutout to Craig Gorsline on the keys, providing layers of texture and filling out the rocksteady live sound. Extra special shoutout for the reworked version of the classic “Lean on Sheena” which Gittleman wrote and performed with Avoid One Thing and McDermott brought to the Souls, yet when they combine, it’s for a new, fresh version that only vaguely resembles the versions you’re used to hearing. Stay tuned for more from The ‘Grams soon, but for now you can listen on bandcamp.

Thumper was up next, and I’ll admit that I was almost as stoked to see Thumper as I was to see the Kilograms. I fell in love with Thumper in the mid-1990s, during the peak of what I guess we’re still calling ska’s third wave. They weren’t your average ska-core band, with a two-tone-meets-thrash-metal-infused sound and sense of humor and intelligence that were all their own. The last time I’d seen Thumper was coincidentally with Big D and the Kids Table at Tune Inn (R.I.P.) in New Haven, CT, on Valentine’s Day 1998. I don’t know if I knew at the time it would be my last Thumper show for many years – the band broke up later that year and I never made it to the scattered reunion shows they’ve done – so it was a welcome treat to see them dust off the cobwebs and jump on this bill. “Burn Baby Burn” and “Holy Roller” and “Backstabber” still go as hard as ever (especially the latter, which featured Folly returning to the stage for a big group throwdown).

And finally the witching hour – in this case around 8:00pm – was upon us, and it was Big D and the Kids Table’s turn to entertain the masses. Not only were the band celebrating Halloween as per usual, but they were also celebrating the 25 years of their 1999 Asian Man Records full-length debut Good Luck. It may be a bit of recency bias to say this, but though I’ve lost track of how many different live incarnations of Big D I’ve seen since 1997, this one – centered as always around the energetic bordering on theatrical David McWane – might be the tightest. The band blistered through Good Luck in what seemed like record time, perhaps due to the hard curfew. With a lot of my ska-core listening days behind me, I guess I’d forgotten how fun that record was, as it’s been overshadowed by Strictly Rude and Fluent In Stroll in recent times. If you’re like me, you can relish in those old days by watching the Good Luck tour documentary that finally found its way to YouTube after a quarter-century. Those memories seem like both just yesterday and like two lifetimes ago.

Check out more shots from each band’s sets below!

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DS Show Review and Gallery: The Get Up Kids and Smoking Popes headline a sold-out Big Night Live (Boston, MA)

I have a confession to make. It’s not something I’m proud of, necessarily, but that’s just the nature of confessions I suppose. In spite of being an individual of a certain age (45) who has been going to punk rock shows since the mid-1990s and was a fan of the Vagrant Records catalog from pretty […]

I have a confession to make. It’s not something I’m proud of, necessarily, but that’s just the nature of confessions I suppose. In spite of being an individual of a certain age (45) who has been going to punk rock shows since the mid-1990s and was a fan of the Vagrant Records catalog from pretty much the beginning (or at least since that Boxer record) and who doesn’t see the word “emo” as a particularly negative word (and knows it existed before whenever Gen Z thinks it started), I had never seen The Get Up Kids live until 2024. Matt Pryor solo? Sure. New Amsterdams? Yup. Even James Dewees/Reggie And The Full Effect. But for whatever reason, never The Get Up Kids. I’ve long-since had my elder (geriatric?!) emo card revoked, but as of this week, I can officially apply for reinstatement, because, at long last, I finally saw The Get Up Kids!

The Kansas City-based quintet brought their Something To Write Home About 25th-anniversary tour to Boston for a raucous, sold-oud soiree at Big Night Live, a venue I’ve spent many words kvetching about on these here pages. And while many of my complaints are still valid (it’s too weirdly shaped and oversized and chaotically lit and limited-in-sight-lines for a punk rock show), I have to say that it was by far the best show I’ve seen at that venue. When I say it was sold out, I mean it was sold out sold out; each and every nook and cranny of the six (I think) different sitting/standing levels was occupied. A merch line snaked around to the back of the building for what seemed like hours before and after TGUK’s set. (Side note: a sold-out Get Up Kids show at Big Night Live and a sold-out Sabrina Carpenter show at the adjacent TD Garden made for about as enjoyable a people-watching experience as you’ll find).

From the opening notes of set – and STWHA opener “Holiday,” the crowd kicked into full-throated singalong mode and never really let up for the duration of the evening. As is par for the proverbial course in album anniversary shows, the band ripped through a main set that consisted of Something To Write Home About from start to finish, essentially uninterrupted. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how well some of the mid/late 90s Vagrant records hold up, particularly by comparison, and Something To Write Home About is a prime example, its dozen songs still containing a sort of gravity and earnestness that have allowed it to age gracefully in the quarter century since its release. The call-and-response section of “The Company Dime” is of particular interest now that those of us who were around twenty when the album came out have two-and-a-half decades of day job doldrums under our belts.

After a brief intermission, the band returned to the stage with fervor, kicking things off with the acoustic-led “Campfire Kansas” and rousing renditions of “One Year Later” and “Stay Gold, Ponyboy.” It’s probably hard on an album anniversary tour to put together a larger, career-spanning setlist for the rest of your allotted stage time, and that was certainly true on this night, as only Four Minute Mile, On A Wire and Red Letter Day (the latter of which also turned 25 this year) were represented in the nine post Something… tracks that closed the show, meaning the “newest” song played was still more than two decades old. That didn’t seem to matter much to the jam-packed crowd, who sang along like it was the twentieth century through Mass Pike and the confetti cannon-accompanied “Don’t Hate Me” which brought the night to a fitting conclusion.

The almighty Smoking Popes kicked off the evening’s festivities, and don’t worry, I’m not THAT much of a square – I’ve seen the Popes a bunch of times over the years. The touring lineup has changed a little bit: two-thirds of the Brothers Caterer have stepped back from tour life in recent years, so golden voiced frontman Josh and longtime drummer Mike Felumlee are joined by Reuben Baird on bass and Telethon‘s Jack Sibilski on guitar. The result is a live band that absolutely shreds. Not that Matt and Eli Caterer wouldn’t be up to the task by any stretch, but 2024 has found the current touring Popes iteration has logged more shows in a year than any Popes lineup since the Clinton Administration, so they’re about as locked in as it gets. Their set kicked off with “Midnight Moon,” the song that also kicks off Born To Quit, an album that’s also celebrating an anniversary this year, albeit a thirtieth anniversary. (Yes, that’s right…Born To Quit is thirty. More on that in a couple days, and also, better make sure your AARP benefits are up to date, gang.) BTQ and Destination Failure tracks made up the bulk of the band’s dozen-song set. Sadly, personal favorite Into The Agony was represented only by “Amanda, My Love,” but them’s the breaks when you’re in an opening slot I suppose. At least we got “Let’s Hear It For Love” and “Madison” and a brand new song called “Golden Moment” – more on that one to come! Caterer’s voice – arguably the best in punk rock over the last few decades – still goes down as smooth as ever, and it was fun watching he and Sibilski take turns shredding lead guitar riffs.

The Get Up Kids / Smoking Popes nationwide adventure winds itself down tonight in Chicago. TGUK will be at the Best Friends Forever Fest in Vegas this weekend, while the Popes will take some well-deserved time off the road for a little bit but stay tuned for a few fun announcements on that front, and check out more photos from the show below!

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NEW MUSIC: Ways Away drop video for new track, “I Should Have Brought A Gun”

One of yours truly’s favorite bands to have materialized over the last few years is the California-based supergroup Ways Away, and yes I know the term “supergroup” gets thrown around liberally at times but seriously, it’s Jesse Barnett from Stick To Your Guns and Sergie Loobkoff from Samiam and Knapsack and Jared Shavelson from Paint […]

One of yours truly’s favorite bands to have materialized over the last few years is the California-based supergroup Ways Away, and yes I know the term “supergroup” gets thrown around liberally at times but seriously, it’s Jesse Barnett from Stick To Your Guns and Sergie Loobkoff from Samiam and Knapsack and Jared Shavelson from Paint It Black and BoySetsFire and Joyce Manor (and Seal) and Chad Darby from Samiam and The Ship Thieves, so what the heck else are we supposed to call it?!

ANYWAY, the band dropped a video for a brand new track, “I Should Have Brought A Gun.” As of now, it’s a stand-alone track, but word on the street is there’s more new music coming down the ‘pike, so stay tuned. Check the video out below, and if it’s your first time checking out Ways Away, familiarize yourself with their back catalog here. It’s great.


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DS Show Gallery: The Gaslight Anthem’s History Books tour rocks Boston’s MGM Fenway with help from Pinkshift and Joyce Manor

The Gaslight Anthem finally brought their History Books album tour through Boston, Massachusetts on August 18, 2024. Joyce Manor and Pinkshift were in tow for what turned into a tight, no-nonsense rock-and-roll soiree at the cavernous MGM Music Hall at Fenway.  Baltimore’s Pinkshift kicked off the evening, by my math, a couple of minutes early. […]

The Gaslight Anthem finally brought their History Books album tour through Boston, Massachusetts on August 18, 2024. Joyce Manor and Pinkshift were in tow for what turned into a tight, no-nonsense rock-and-roll soiree at the cavernous MGM Music Hall at Fenway. 


Baltimore’s Pinkshift kicked off the evening, by my math, a couple of minutes early. I’ve made repeat mentions on these pages about how the MGM is a massive facility, but it’s not to be understated, particularly for an opening band who’s playing at a comparatively early time on a Sunday night as the crowd is filling in. Not to project, but I can imagine that might be a daunting task. That said, this marks the second time that I’ve seen a “smaller” band grab this sort of opportunity by the throat and make it their own on this very stage (the first was Grumpster opening for Jawbreaker/Joyce Manor a year ago). If you’re later to the game than I was, the core trio – Ashrita Kumar on vocals, Paul Vallejo on guitar and Myron Houngbedji on drums – formed in the halls of the prestigious Johns Hopkins University – and put their respective careers/educations on hold to make a go of the band thing. The older I get, the more infrequently I see bands for the first time whom I think feel “important.” Pinkshift feels important. With a live sound filled out by Kirby the Immortal1 on bass and Michael Stabekis on guitar, the band plowed through a 35-ish minute set that included “nothing (in my head)” and “Trust Fall” and of course their breakthrough single “i’m gonna tell my therapist on you”. Super fun stage presence, emotional and cathartic vocals, powerful – nay, punishing – hooks. What a trip.

The one-and-only Joyce Manor provided direct support on this Gaslight run. Much like they did at the aforementioned Jawbreaker show a year ago at the same venue, Joyce Manor not only came ready to play but brought a had a sizeable portion of the crowd singing along with every word from the anthemic opening notes of “Heart Tattoo” that set the tone for the rest of the set. From there, the quintet (core trio of Barry Johnson, Chase Knobbe and Matt Ebert joined by Neil Berthier on acoustic guitar and Jared Shavelson on drums for this run) blitzed through nearly two dozen songs over the course of a tight forty-five-minute set. The set was heavy on tracks from the band’s ten-year-old full-length Never Hungover Again, including the above-mentioned opener, and closer “Catalina Fight Song.” Other highlights included “House Warning Party” and “Beach Community” and of course “Constant Headache.”


At promptly 9:00pm and accompanied by the dulcet tones of Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Want To Have Fun,” the Gaslight Anthem strode to the stage and immediately broke into the familiar buildup that is the intro to “American Slang.” From my vantage point in the photo pit, it sounded as though the band ground the gears of the ol’ big rig a little bit before finally getting up to cruising speed, although I’ve gone back and watched a few of the videos floating around YouTube and it seems like that might be more a result of a reverb issue at the front of the house than anything else, as they sounded dynamite from further out in the crowd. Crowd-favorite singalong “45” followed, a one-two punch that did a more than exceptional job of picking up the gauntlet that had been thrown down by Pinkshift and Joyce Manor. The last of the “photo pit three” that started the set was “We Came To Dance” from 2007’s Sink Or Swim, a song I hadn’t seen the band perform since pre-hiatus, so probably nine or ten years ago.


The setlist that followed, I have to say, was pretty great. The four History Books tracks – “I Live In The Room Above Her,” “Michigan 1975,” “The Weatherman” and “Positive Charge” fit in nicely with the comparatively deeper cuts. Much of the back catalog was well represented – although the only Get Hurt song to make an appearance was “Helter Skeleton,” a fact I thought was a little interesting given that we were just a couple days past the tenth anniversary of what is a desert island for yours truly. But I digress. Other highlights from the main set were “Bring It On” and “1930” and the Boston Bruins’ radio anthem “The Patient Ferris Wheel” and the left-right combo of “High Lonesome” and “Here’s Looking At You, Kid.” (Side note: if you haven’t read our recent interview with Benny Horowitz which talks about weaving the new tracks into a setlist of staples and also hints at the epic show closer, what are you waiting for?)


The band sounded pretty finely tuned; dare I say as good as ever. Frontman Brian Fallon’s voice had a little more growl in it than normal, a byproduct of the road (and being only 48 hours removed from a massive sold-out show on their home turf at the Stone Pony), and he was noticeably much less chatty than as has become standard. Less chatty, but no less having fun, and he frequently wore a wide smile across his face and seems genuinely happy to still be doing this with the same guys – Alex Rosamilia (not to get all “Fashion Police, but who was not only not wearing a hoodie but was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and playing a Gibson Flying V and looked like rock and roll personified), and Benny Horowitz and Alex Levine and of course the mighty Ian Perkins and the more recent touring addition of Brian Haring –  again nearly two decades down the road. Karina Rykman, who appears on the studio version of Gaslight’s cover of Billie Eilish’s “ocean eyes” joined the band on second bass (“two bass players for the price of one!) and vocals on that song and stayed out on stage in the same role for the remainder of the set. And what a remainder of the set it was: “ocean eyes” into “Mae” into “Great Expectations” into normal closer “The ‘59 Sound,” a foursome that was worth the price of admission in and of itself. But it was capped off by a return to the stage from Pinkshift, who joined Karina and the rest of the Gaslight crew for a rousing rendition of the Nirvana classic “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” It’s a song that has a different sort of cathartic energy than it did thirty years ago, less of a dangerous catharsis and more of a “hey, we’re still here and still kicking and still a vital force” catharsis.




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DS Exclusive: Philly’s Cloakz unveil debut full-length album, “Control Program”

Happy debut LP release day, Cloakz! The Philadelphia-based indie rockers (that’s them up above – say hi Cloakz!) are unleashing their new record, Control Program, on Mint 400 Records today! Debut full-length records are always meaningful moments in time; here’s how Cloakz’ ringleader Zac Ciancaglini explains the origins of Control Program: “The initial songwriting seeds […]

Happy debut LP release day, Cloakz!

The Philadelphia-based indie rockers (that’s them up above – say hi Cloakz!) are unleashing their new record, Control Program, on Mint 400 Records today! Debut full-length records are always meaningful moments in time; here’s how Cloakz’ ringleader Zac Ciancaglini explains the origins of Control Program:

The initial songwriting seeds and ideas started coming together for me right after my first kid was born in 2020, not long after COVID shut the world down and just fully wiped out anything that felt familiar or secure…I kept finding myself thinking, ‘Can someone please just build a goddamn program that can run everything for me?’

If you’re in or around the City of Brotherly Love, you can catch the album release show at Johnny Brenda’s this Sunday, August 25th. The rest of you can stream that jawn down below!

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DS Interview: Catching up with Gaslight Anthem’s Benny Horowitz about remixing “History Books,” touring in the age of cell phones, spending three decades in the music scene and much more!

Once upon a time, there was a relatively predictable template that bands would adhere to fairly strictly in the life cycle of an album. There were exceptions to the rule for sure, but it generally went something like: write, record, do press, play live; write, record, do press, play live; lather, rinse, repeat ad infinitum […]

Once upon a time, there was a relatively predictable template that bands would adhere to fairly strictly in the life cycle of an album. There were exceptions to the rule for sure, but it generally went something like: write, record, do press, play live; write, record, do press, play live; lather, rinse, repeat ad infinitum if you’re lucky. That cycle could span anywhere from, say, nine months (Ramones releasing S/T, Leave Home, Rocket To Russia and Road To Ruin between April ‘76 and September ‘78 for example) to, say, two years (Ramones releasing Halfway to Sanity, Brain Drain, Mondo Bizarro, Acid Eaters and Adios Amigos between September ‘87 and July ‘95 for example). 

For myriad complex reasons including but certainly not limited to production delays, the changing habits of the music consumer, the proliferation of cell phone-carrying showgoers and their corresponding social media accounts, the cycle has become much more of a fluid situation. Case in point: The Gaslight Anthem toured the US fairly extensively during the Spring of 2023, essentially serving as a second leg of their reunion tour that kicked off the year prior. October 2023 brought with it History Books, the band’s first new studio album since 2014’s brilliant Get Hurt. That was followed, at least initially, by radio silence from a US touring perspective, until the official kickoff of the US History Books tour in Denver a couple of weeks ago. Tour kickoff coincided with a pair of uncommon moves in this day and age; the digital-only release of a remixed version of History Books, and Dying Scene catching up with Gaslight Anthem’s affable timekeeper Benny Horowitz.

Let’s start at the end and work backwards, specifically with the reissue of the band’s sixth studio album, History Books, officially referred to on digital platforms as History Books: Expanded Edition. The new version includes the four-song EP Short Stories that the band put out a few months back (which features a stellar version of Billie Eilish’s “Ocean Eyes”) and a new version of “Little Fires” that features the one-and-only Bully. But the real meat and potatoes is an entirely remixed version of the original album. If you’re like me, you saw the initial announcement about the Expanded Edition and thought “well, huh, that’s weird, I really like the original record, so I’m not sure why they’d remix it.” (Side note: based on Reddit comments, many of you are not, as it turns out, like me in that regard.) But if you’re still like me, you put the Expanded Edition on in your headphones and from the opening moments of “Spider Bites” on, you thought “ohhhhhh I get it now.” And that’s exactly by design. 

The only way it was going to come out,” Horowitz explains, “is if we heard it and kind of had the same reaction you did, which was like “oh okay, this sounds different and pretty good, and it’s kind of making certain things pop in a certain way, and things we weren’t hearing before kind of pop out.” That’s not to say the original mix – which still sounds great on vinyl – has fallen out of favor with the band. Far from it. “We were going for something. Us and Peter (Katis, producer) were going for something that I think we achieved, and I think it’s vibey as fuck and super cool.” Still, that doesn’t mean they couldn’t approach some of the feedback they heard with open ears. “People were like “I like these songs, but it just doesn’t sound like Gaslight,” says Horowitz. “The thing that I didn’t kind of realize – and even as a music fan I empathize with more now – it’s just like there’s a consistency in production and sound for a band. And it’s not just the songs but you kind of expect a band you like to sound a certain way to a point, you know?” 

I suppose it’s worth reiterating that the album is not remastered, as is often the case with reissues, anniversary editions, etc. It is, in fact, entirely remixed and yes that’s an important distinction and if you’re a Luddite like me, Benny does a good job of explaining that distinction in the Q&A down below. The band decided to give the original stems to the History Books tracks to Chris Dugan for a fresh set of ears, though that still wasn’t a guarantee that the results would be different enough to release into the wild. It was a bit of a risky proposition. “I don’t like making decisions in this business without historical precedent, and there was not a lot of historical precedent for this. Not a lot of bands have done it,” he explains. “We didn’t know if it was going to be good or bad,” says Horowitz. It wasn’t like a certainty that we were going to hear it and be like “this has to come out.” So I think on our level – on a creative level – it was fun hearing it like that…I think it sounds cool.

The Gaslight Anthem (L-R: Alex Rosamilia, Brian Fallon, Benny Horowitz, Alex Levine). Photo credit: Kelsey Ayres

So armed with a retooled version of History Books under their collective belts, the band partook on their first US album release tour in a decade. If you’re headed out to any of the shows – (like Boston – come say hi!) you’ll hear a high-voltage, two-hour set chock full of songs from across the six-plus album catalog. “We try not to harass the crowd by doing more than like three or four (new songs) in one set,” Horowitz laughs. “I’m not far off from being just a normal ass music fan, and I remember what it’s like going to shows of a band you really like. Maybe or maybe not you love the new record but you don’t want to hear like eight of them.” Who knows, you might even catch the band taking a hard left and opening a set with a cover of “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” as they did in Dallas a few nights back. “That’s either really funny and bold or just, like, stupid,” he exclaims. “It was the one time I was like “you know what? I don’t get to say this too often but I’ve been practicing my whole life for this moment!” I learned this song when I was like 12 fucking years old!”

It was a moment that, like so many others in a live setting circa 2024, was captured on an infinite number of smartphones and uploaded far and wide within minutes. Hell, it’s why I knew about it the night it happened despite living 1800 miles away, thanks to a certain Andy Diamond and his Church Street Choir. The times, they have a-changed. “That is an exact case of like out of nowhere faces turn into phones, you know what I mean?” he asks. “I look out and all I see is, like, a sea of flashlights and phones now instead of faces. I’m not saying it’s like bad or good, I’m not going to be the old Luddite on here, but it is different.” Gone are the days when a band could work out unfinished versions of new songs live on stage, sometimes resulting in tracks that either never appear in final form, or end up radically different than they started by the time there’s an “official” version.

Since they’re a band that was born in the age of cell phones, it’s a phenomenon that Gaslight haven’t dealt with extensively “I think by the time we really started gaining any like real interest in this industry, where people would actually like give a shit about us having a new song, it had already co-opted into “phone time.” Still, it’s not exactly a foreign concept to the New Jersey quartet. “I remember we kind of had a lesson actually in this where we played a song – the earliest version of the song “Biloxi Parish” – we played on an Australian tour before we put out Handwritten, and then the song wound up on YouTube and was up there for quite a while by the time we got around to actually doing the record. And a lot of people like you know the changes we decided to make on that song were resented by the people who had already listened to YouTube.

While the shows have certainly grown in scale in all the possible ways since a young Benny Horowitz was booking shows in northern New Jersey Elks Lodges (editors note: there’s a sweet anecdote about young Benny at the end of the Q&A below, but you’ll have to keep reading to get to it) thirty years ago, but that doesn’t mean they don’t carry the same weight. It’s just most of us on our side of the barricade are all older, heavier, less limber, and sometimes have to work in the morning. “I’ve actually had to train myself to not judge a show’s quality on that inert physical quality of a show,” he laughs. “Because they’re not necessarily the same thing anymore. A good show – especially in the US or England – kind of used to be dictated by how many people are going nuts…if you happened to get into us when you were like 25, you’re in your mid-40s these days. You might have retired moshing and crowd-surfing by now!

Check out where you can find Gaslight on the road in the States the rest of this year (including not one but two dates on their home turf in Asbury Park). And keep scrolling to check out History Books: Expanded Edition and our full Q&A with the great Benny Horowitz. Maybe check out his awesome podcast, Going Off Track, while you’re at it.


The Q & A below has been edited and condensed for the sake of content and clarity. We pick up our conversation partway through, after some trading of snack time and parenting style stories…

Jay Stone (Dying Scene): Anyway, so thanks for doing this. We have chatted a few times in passing at shows over the last 10 or 12 years, but never done the actual interview thing, so I appreciate this. 

Benny Horowitz (Gaslight Anthem, etc) Oh it’s sick. I’m always reading Dying Scene periodically.  It’s cool. 

It always floors me when people say that. Because I like to live in a bubble and not pretend it’s as big a deal as some people think it is. So it always warms my heart when people say that they have actually read it before. It means we’re not doing it for nothing. 

Oh yeah, as an underground heavy music fan, it’s one of the stops, for sure. 

So long story short, the site crashed entirely for a few years. And so since having it rebuilt we’ve tried to do a lot less in the way of just regurgitating press releases and stuff like that. And more on focusing on original content and actually talking to people, taking pictures at shows, publicizing smaller bands, stuff like that. We’re trying. 

That’s great. And it’s smart too. I mean just this day and age you gotta own some of your own content or else you’re fucked. (*both laugh*) Like all the photos and all that. That’s the only way to drive it at this point. AI is going to take the other job of regurgitating press releases. (*both laugh*) I’m pretty sure AI is actually writing press releases already! Press releases have always kind of sounded like AI in a way, right?

Yeah. I quite literally got one this morning…not to go off track…I quite literally got one this morning with the band’s name spelled wrong.

Noooo,  really? Oh no!

I’ve seen it happen periodically but I quite literally saw it today. And it seemed like maybe somebody was dictating because it was a funky-spelled name. It seems like somebody was dictating and then didn’t check. And I went oh no. That’s horrible.

That’s horrible! That’s proofreading 101. (*both laugh)

Although it got me to notice the email I guess.

Yeah that’s true. (*both laugh*) 

ANYWAY, we will talk a bit about History Books because I think that the album and the History Books tour were the prompt for this, but in sort of checking the calendar I realized that this week is anniversary week for both Get Hurt which was 10 years yesterday and I think 59 Sound is 16 years old this weekend. Which to me is amazing because I keep track of anniversaries like that. That’s how my brain works. Is that a thing that you guys are mindful of? Or the longer that you’ve been a band, does it become like every day at some point is an anniversary of something, so does that stuff does not mean the same thing as it used to? 

Yes and yes honestly. We heard about Get Hurt being 10 years and that was one of those dates that was a little jarring to us. We’re like “wow really? 10???” But the ones like 59 Sound being 16, I have no idea because if we played that game…we have six records now, so, you know, at some point every year each record turns something and it does get a little much. I think it works the same way as birthdays now. It’s like if it’s not based on like 10, 15, 20, you know one of the major marker kind of things, then probably we don’t pay too much attention to it.

Like when something is like “oh it’s like eight years old”…Like I’m 43 now right? With kids. I don’t expect to get another real birthday party until I’m like 50. (*both laugh*) And I think records kind of work the same way.  Like you hit 10, you hit 20, 25, you know, you start doing something. 

I feel like with 59 Sound, I noticed because it’s one of those albums to me. But also like my kid was born in 2008 so my kid is 16. That record and that second Loved Ones record, Build & Burn, they both came out in 2008. And so to me like those lined up with when my kid was born.

So that one has always stuck with me because that album will always be as old as my kid was. Plus those two records, Get Hurt and 59 Sound are probably desert island records for me. Like if you only got to bring five records to the desert island, I think two of them are Gaslight Anthem and they’re those records. 

And we also opened for The Loved Ones on the Build & Burn tour. It’s kinda funny.

Oh, I remember. And it’s wild to think that was that long ago and the arcs you’ve taken since 

So anyway, back on track. Where are you today? You’re in Atlanta, yeah? 

Yeah, I’m in the back of our truck right now in Atlanta, Georgia. The only quiet place, because there’s a soundcheck going on inside.

These are the first real US dates since History Books came out right? Because there was the tour before the album came out, but I feel like in my brain – which is half mush at this point – but that there wasn’t an awful lot of touring here after the album came out. So is this really kind of the first run that a lot of these songs have had for US audiences anyway? 

Yeah for the most part it is. You know it was kind of a bizarre thing the way the album rolled out and the fact that we didn’t have a tour when it did come out. You know that seems like kind of music industry 101. So it wasn’t the best way to do this. But yeah technically this is. We’ve been to Europe twice since it’s been out. But haven’t done a proper US run yet. 

I’m assuming that most of the songs translate pretty well? What’s the sort of feedback you get now that people have had a chance to sort of hear them live or check them out on YouTube if they haven’t gone on to shows or whatever yet? How do the new songs translate live? What gets the kids sort of as excited as the old days? 

Well to say “as excited as the old days” you know…Speaking of all these dates, you know, if you happened to get into us when you were like 25, you’re in your mid-40s these days… 

Yeah, I’m 44. 

Yeah, you might have retired moshing and crowd-surfing by now. (*both laugh*) So by default I’ve actually had to train myself to not judge a show’s quality on that like inert physical quality of a show. Because they’re not necessarily the same thing anymore. Like, a good show –  especially in the US or England – kind of used to be dictated by how many people are going nuts. You know as time goes on and maybe even songs like start taking on some new shapes, it’s not necessarily the way to gauge it anymore. I mean it’s always an interesting thing playing songs off a new record, because you know you write them you play them together and then you record them and certain things flush out in certain ways. When you start playing them live again, it is literally the first time you’re playing these versions of these songs. And when you start translating it to live some stuff works some stuff doesn’t work, and you kind of have to adapt some things. It takes a little time sometimes to settle in and know what that’s like.

We’ve been actively (playing) “Positive Charge” most nights, “Weatherman” most nights, “Michigan 1975” most nights. And then you know “History Books” and “Spider Bites” and “Live in the Room Above” are all peppered in. We try not to harass the crowd by doing more than like three or four in one set. (*both laugh*) You know like I’m not far off from being just a normal ass music fan, and I remember what it’s like going to shows of a band you really like. Maybe or maybe not you love the new record but you don’t want to hear like eight of them. That’s just crazy. So we do try to limit it and still kind of represent every record too in each setlist.

Did you play any of the History Books songs live on that US tour before the album came out,  whenever it was, like a year ago I guess?

I think we had like the ones… you know the way this weird industry works now, they like start rolling out songs in the record much prior to the record coming out and all that stuff. So I do believe we were definitely playing “Positive Charge” I think, because that was definitely out. And maybe “History Books” too. So you know those songs that were actually released as like singles we could play. But we couldn’t play any of the album tracks yet.

Is that different?  Do you miss the days of being able to play things before people had sort of heard it? Or has YouTube and TikTok or however people consume music nowadays has that sort of ruined that “we’re going to test music out live” thing? I mean thinking back to the music of when I was growing up. That was the way that you found out about new music is you heard like maybe a bootleg. Like, I was a big Pearl Jam fan as a kid, so you would hear all the working versions of like random songs that would end up coming out two or three albums later sometimes. Do you miss sort of like being able to do that? Or is that not really even a thing anymore? 

I do miss it. I mean I think by the time we really started gaining any real interest in this industry, where people would actually like give a shit about us having a new song, it had already co-opted into “phone time.” I remember we kind of had a lesson actually in this where we played a song – the earliest version of the song “Biloxi Parish” – we played on an Australian tour before we put out Handwritten, and then the song wound up on YouTube and was up there for quite a while by the time we got around to actually doing the record. And a lot of people like you know the changes we decided to make on that song were resented by the people who had already listened to YouTube a lot. And fans can fall victim to the same thing that artists can. Like, demo-itis is an extremely real thing, and once you just get used to hearing something a certain way, anything else is going to fall short. You know like you just fall in love with some weird version of it for whatever reason, and any other version of it is going to be lesser, you know?

So yeah I think it is totally taken out of the pantheon now essentially, unless you have a song that’s just like so worked out already, that you know 100,000% there’s not going to be any changes or anything. But I think that’s the whole point of testing it out live and doing the thing is like seeing how it sounds and seeing how it goes. So yeah I think the long-winded answer to that is yes, I think that concept is basically totally dead now. 

I feel like and I can’t remember specific Gaslight examples, but I know that like Tim Barry for example, there’s a few Tim Barry songs like “Walk 500 Miles.” There’s like a live bootleg that came out, I don’t know seven or eight years ago now, that because of the way that song got performed on that bootleg, that’s the way people started to hear it and then do that call and response thing that isn’t in the original song. So that now the live version is different than it used to be just based on like a one-off live recording that happened to circulate at the right time. It’s really sort of interesting when that works

I know it’s kind of cool. I also think someone would probably start giving you shit too for, like, you know…it is something that after that “Biloxi” experience, it’s not something we tinker around with anymore. For now! It’ll be a cool way to do it again, I hope.

Yeah, and EVERYBODY does have their phones out. 

So it’s just a matter of the second we do anything even remotely like that…I see it, you know? I look out in the crowd a lot when I play I kind of see what’s going on. And if we play a song we haven’t played in a long time or a cover or something like that that people weren’t expecting, I mean…

Or you open a set with “Smells Like Teen Spirit” for example.

Exactly! And that is an exact case of like out of nowhere faces turn into fucking phones, you know what I mean? I look out and all I see is, like, a sea of flashlights and phones now instead of faces. I’m not saying it’s bad or good, I’m not going to be the old Luddite on here, but it is different. 

There’s probably multiple videos of that going around from wherever, I guess it was Dallas the other night, and I watched one and I sent it to my wife. I was like “holy shit look what they opened the set with! That’s wild!” And she said “yeah look, once you can see that that’s what’s happening, you can see from the audience perspective all the phones going up too.” So it’s interesting to hear you say like that’s obviously what you see because you can see it on the video too. 

Well I realized too…that version in Dallas was literally the third time we’d ever played that song as a unit. Like, we just thought about doing it, we ran it a couple of times in soundcheck and we’re like “fuck it let’s play it!” We were like “yo, it would be funny to open with it!”

Oh, it was amazing!

And we’re like, you know people are going to think we’re just doing like the intro for fun, we got to do just the whole fucking thing. But there was actually a bit of a backstory to that because one time we played a very, very ridiculously corny radio festival in Dallas, I believe at the MLS stadium. It was just one of those really strange, awkward radio events with other bands that you would never play with and stuff.  And in order to have some fun and not hate our lives that day we played a cover set. We just played like six cover songs we knew in the 25 minutes we had. So there was kind of like a ‘spirit of Dallas’ thing going on, where if we’re going to do that, we’re going to do it in Dallas I guess. 

Yeah and I think that’s still a way to hold on to like the old-school punk rock sort of sentimentality too. I think that’s fun.

Yeah I mean that’s it. That’s the conversation I had with Brian beforehand. I’m like “well, is it fun to play?” We’re like “yeah.” And I’m like “well let’s have fun and play it!” It wasn’t about “let’s try to cook the audience” or something like that, it was just kind of a whim.  I had another funny element of that too. I do get some general anxiety and jitters before I play shows. I still get it. And I had a bunch that night because I was like “Jesus we’ve played this song fucking twice, and we’re coming out with one of the greatest songs in rock and roll history. That’s either really funny and bold or just, like, stupid.” And then it was the one time I was like “you know what? I don’t get to say this too often but I’ve been practicing my whole life for this moment!” (*both laugh*) I learned this song when I was like 12 fucking years old.  I’ve known it and periodically played it from then till now. So it’s like if there’s any song I could walk up and actually get through and know all the changes and the parts, that’s one of them for sure. 

That’s what I was going to say, between the I guess five of you including Ian, you’ve probably played that song 7,000 times over the last 30 years. Maybe not together

Yeah, just with someone or on your own or something.

I’ve probably played it a thousand times on my couch just for the hell of it. 

But that can be dangerous too because sometimes when you play a song a million times, you completely lose sense of the fact that you’re playing it wrong. You’re just like doing something like close to it, and like you said in this fucking internet age, I’m not trying to fuck up “Smells Like Teen Spirit” drum parts. (*both laugh*) That’ll get called out. It’s like “oh he’s not doing the double hits in this thing” or something. 

Especially to open a set too, because I feel like you would know if you got a part wrong or if you flipped something around or whatever, and I feel like that would just like rent space if you let it. \

Yeah, yeah! I mean that’s why it’s bold, because it can definitely go wrong. Pretty easily!

Well good on you guys for doing it. That made my day or week or whatever. (*both laugh*) So, History Books, now that you’re on the road for it, it did just get sort of are we calling it a reissue or extended-release or whatever. But the newly remastered version is out now. And that feels like a thing that I didn’t realize…like I’ve liked the album from first listen, I thought it was great (and I reviewed it here) and I was super glad that you guys are back and made it. And I said oh I don’t really feel like they need to remaster that album, it seems fine. And then I listened to (the new version) once, and I was like “oh, I get it!” Granted I’m a complete Luddite when it comes to like music technology and barely know what mastering is, particularly as compared to mixing and whatever. But where did that idea come from? And was that something you talked about doing before? 

No, no. And to be clear, it’s not a remaster, it is remixed.

Oh okay. See, I told you I don’t understand the difference!

Yeah, so mastering is what happens at the very end of a record. Like, a record is mixed, and mastering kind of puts an overall compression on it. It like takes all the instruments essentially and is supposed to put them together into one thing in a relatable package while keeping everything separate but compressing it into an audio-friendly type of thing. It also works with sequencing. Like mastering will be, okay “two seconds between each song” and things like that. But the actual mixing mixing is done prior to that. So when you see the old reissues and stuff that are remastered, they’re kind of just tweaking sounds but they’re probably not changing volumes and stuff on the original mixes. So we actually gave the original stems of the songs and the mixes to a different mixing engineer, and we didn’t know if it was going to be good or bad. Like, it wasn’t like a certainty that we were going to hear it and be like “this has to come out.” The only way it was going to come out is if we heard it and kind of had the same reaction you did, which was like “oh okay, this sounds different and pretty good, and it’s kind of making certain things pop in a certain way, and things we weren’t hearing before kind of pop out.” So I think on our level – on a creative level – it was fun hearing it like that. And then you know I think, you know, one of the things was like the original way it was mixed was not a mistake, you know? Like we were going for something. Us and Peter (Katis, producer of History Books) were going for something that I think we achieved, and I think it’s vibey as fuck and super cool. The thing that I didn’t kind of realize, and even as a music fan I empathize with more now, it’s just like there’s a consistency in production and sound for a band. And it’s not just the songs but you kind of expect a band you like to sound a certain way to a point, you know? And I think that’s where it kind of really was bumming out fans. People were like “I like these songs but it just doesn’t sound like Gaslight.” That seemed to be kind of the effect of it. And when we had somebody awesome take a look at it and heard it, it was like “all right like let’s put this out.”

You know, we won’t change the vinyl; we’ll keep that like that nice, original thing we were going for, but now there’s this kind of polished digital version. It was crucial to me that people who already bought the record didn’t have to buy it again. You know, like some of the logistical stuff. And then also just like adding some elements to it just to make it worth people’s time, like you know adding the like the EP at the end of it and the thing we did with Bully. You know just so it’s like “oh okay, there’s something different here to listen to.” And then we just went for it. It was a strange thing because I had a hard time finding like…I don’t like making decisions in this business without historical precedent, and there was not a lot of historical precedent for this. Not a lot of bands have done it, so I was like “I don’t know if this is gonna be a terrible idea or a good idea.” But I think it sounds cool. You know let’s go for it. And I don’t read too much of the Internet but it seems fairly positive.

Yeah the people on Reddit and whatever seem to like it. Not that I am a big Reddit person but I tend to follow along and they tend to like it. 

I read everything from Reddit. I check it every day and I base my mental well-being on whatever I read. (*both laugh*) 

That’s a terrible decision. (*both laugh*) Yeah the people seem to like it.  And you’re right, there aren’t I don’t think of many examples of bands doing it this early, or this close to the release of an album. We were talking about before like a “20th anniversary, we remixed a record.” Like Pearl Jam did with Ten and a couple other records. 

Yeah, we try to not be afraid you know?

Yeah right! Okay, one more! So I’m gonna steal one of your own questions. I happened to be listening back to a Going Off Track episode that you did with Dave Hause because Dave’s been a buddy of mine forever, and you asked him something about –  I’m paraphrasing a little – but would 15-year-old you like 45-year-old you. And talking about the sort of ethos and the mentality and where he ended up (in his career). And I was sort of thinking about that in the context of like 15-year-old Benny booking shows in basements in Jersey and whatever, and now like – I’m in the Boston area and this weekend you’re at MGM and you get to play like essentially the back door of Fenway Park.  And so would 15-year-old Benny think that stuff like that, or playing the Winter Classic and whatever is cool, or would 15-year-old Benny be like “fuck that guy”?.

You know it’s one of those things, I think, that’s almost like hard to come to terms with.

And I’m kind of thinking about it as you ask it. And it’s hard to frame now, because of the fact that like I’m an adult who tries to be easy on myself, you know, especially if there’s space in the game. But if I’m completely honest with who I remember that 15-year-old to be, he was a pretty sweet kid. He had a good heart. He was nice to people. But he hated fucking bands that got too big. (*both laugh*) So, I don’t know man. I think the 15-year-old version of me would have probably had a “fuck Gaslight” period. Especially if I started on like Sink Or Swim or something. I probably would have had, you know, almost just that punk rock way of like. “Oh everyone likes The 59 Sound, I’m going to go like something else. Because too many people like this fucking record. Too many people are hyping it up for me to like this.” And that’s kind of the way I was if I’m honest.

Sure! Like a lot of us!

So yeah,  I think 15-year-old me probably would have thought I was a bit of a fucking herb.

But it’s also got to be pretty cool. I mean maybe Fenway isn’t Yankee Stadium to you...

Yeah, see I do also remember that kid as reasonable and sweet, so I think if I like got his ear for about half an hour, I’d be able to explain it in a way that he’d be like “Oh all right, I got you.” But right off the bat? Yeah no totally “fuck Gaslight”. (*both laugh*)

I appreciate your honesty. I do. 

Yeah. No problem…just having a stark look at my own childhood. (*both laugh*)

Right! I’ve looked in that mirror many a time. 

I was doing fucking Elks Lodge shows. I mean the kind of shit I thought was corporate then, was literally like baseline industry standard. 

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