Dave Hause has had a good summer. 

Since he’s been off the road for the bulk of the calendar’s warmest quarter, one could argue that by some metrics, it’s been a comparatively quiet summer given his normal line of work. That said, the California transplant has been busy at home with his twin boys – Harrison and Smith – doing all of the things that you do as a dad of kids who are about to enter first grade. Days filled with music and superheroes and lamenting the pending fall of democracy (in an age-appropriate way, naturally) and, if you’re a punk rock dad of a certain age, teaching them skateboarding. There are a lot of lessons to be taught – and learned – when trying to tutor the younger generation on the fine art of dropping in on a v-bowl or how to pull off your first ollie. This is particularly true when your audience is too young to know better or to be scared of the dangers inherent in barreling full-speed down a concrete ramp. Lessons about learning when to kick and when to push and when to coast; lessons in patience and resilience and balance and how to stay fearless and how to dodge obstacles and how to be determined and how to adapt to new and undulating terrain and especially how to fall in a way that minimizes disaster and keeps you motivated to not only not quit but to do better the next time and the time after that and the tome after that and so on.

As the boys will no doubt begin to understand as they grow up, those lessons that dad imparted through endless summer days down at the skate park are no doubt translatable to life that exists off of four polyurethane wheels. Those lessons are especially poignant when you’re a dad who is on the other side of forty and who has spent more than two decades making a living as a musician to the left of the dial; hauling gear, changing strings, living out of vans and suitcases, trying to continually write songs that are thoughtful and poignant and still catchy enough to be able to continue putting coins in the dual college fund tip jars. 

On September 26th – the first Friday of fall – Hause will release his latest studio full-length. Entitled …And The Mermaid, the record marks the seventh of his solo career (we’re not counting the Hearses/Versus/Curses trio obviously – more on that later). But just as being the father to soon-to-be seven-year-old boys has found Hause returning to the skateboard-heavy roots of a past life, soon-to-be-released album seven follows a similar path. Rather than rest on the laurels that his last few Americana-tinged, singer/songwriter-heavy albums have provided, …And The Mermaid finds Hause more charged up and leaning back into an old familiar role: front man of a punk-rock-infused rock and roll band. “(This album) is the first one in a while that’s unabashedly rock and roll,” Hause explains. “I’m excited to play it live. I’m excited to put the band back out on the road.” 

The idea of leaning into the high-energy, full-band rock and roll thing again stems from a few different places. One was falling in love with the band IDLES in recent years, and all of the passion and intensity that they bring. Two was introducing his boys to the world of punk rock through what I guess we’d call “classic” bands at this point like Green Day and Rancid and Bouncing Souls. And three, perhaps most poignantly, was from a conversation with friend and fellow punk rock songwriter Dan Andriano. The conversation came after Hause nudged Andriano into going to see a singer/songwriter who was coming to town. While Andriano enjoyed the show, his positive feedback came with a caveat to Hause: “If I see you make a show like that, I’m going to be bummed,” stated the Alkaline Trio bassist. As Hause tells it, Andriano elaborated: “You have a certain energy and a punk rock edge, even when you’re fingerpicking and playing quietly. That is so unique to you. Don’t lose that. Whatever you do, don’t lose that. Don’t have like a mild, chill show. That’s just not what I’m here for when it comes to you.”

The aforementioned band that Hause will be firing up and putting back out on the road again, obviously, is better known as The Mermaid. When Hause started playing shows with a backing band years ago, the idea was effectively to compile a lineup of musician friends based on their need and availability; a rotating project that might produce a different show every time they came through your town. “I think that’s why it’s always been called the Mermaid,” he states. “It feels like an oasis; a mirage; something you see and you can almost touch and then it swims away.” That concept has changed a little bit in recent years. With few exceptions, the core of The Mermaid has calcified around Hause’s brother and longtime songwriting partner Tim on guitar, increasingtly frequent collaborators Mark Masefield on keys and Luke Preston on bass, and the incredibly versatile and always rock steady Kevin Conroy on drums. It’s a group that came together in the live format and developed a high-energy chemistry on the road. While Hause is no doubt aware of the positive chemistry the band has together on his own, some of that was solidified during a run of shows last year with the iconic Bouncing Souls. Hause was taken under the wing of the Souls crew decades ago at this point, and while he might be the elder statesman of the Mermaid crew, the tables turn when the Souls are around. The Souls – to Hause and his crew and the rest of us true believers – have been guiding lights for thirty years, in the way they write music and the way they operate both in the scene and in the world. “It’s sort of like they’re my big brothers, and here I was bringing my little brothers around. To see this band click with the Souls was cool,” he explains. “It was a great moment of the two worlds not just colliding, but coalescing. I think you can feel that on stage and you can feel that in the songs. There’s something really special about that.”

So when it came time to really bear down and write and ultimately record LP #7, who better to turn to than the band that he’d found himself fronting night in and night out in enjoyable and powerful fashion than his very own band. …And The Mermaid marks the first time that the quintet has recorded together, as Hause eschewed his more recent trend of recording in Nashville with talented studio musicians. Instead, the band made its way to Vancouver earlier this year for an epic recording session with Jesse Gander (Japandroids, Fire In The Radio, etc). “There’s some special alchemy that happens when you put a bunch of people in a room with a really adept engineer,” Hause reports. “I was like, ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen. Let’s just try to get as much good work done as we can.” And it opened up this channel that felt really good.” So good, in fact, that starting with the blistering, Clash-style rocker “Enough Hope,” the band ripped through four songs in the first day of recording. Not a bad way to start. “I just thought, ‘let’s go in there and cut as much material as we can,’ because I really believed in the band’s ability. We were a little unsure what it would be like because we’ve never done it, but man, did we just hit the ground running?” Save for a few odd vocal harmonies and overdubs here and there, most of the material was cut live on the floor in the studio together. Five guys in a room writing and recording up-tempo tracks fueled by an increasingly bright punk rock intensity.

The band took full advantage of their time together, building on the relationship they’d long-since been creating in the live show format and translating that into an energy and work ethic in the studio. All told, close to two dozen songs were tracked, well more than the ten that appear on …And The Mermaid. “There’s a little bit of a goal that started to come in because we were like, “well, we are pretty old. We’re all between thirty-one and forty-seven. We’ve been doing this a lont time, we should be able to rise to the occasion,” laughs Hause. Rise to the occasion they certainly did. The album kicks off with “Knife In The Mud,” an anthemic, horn-infused barn-burner of a song centered on a bombastic Conroy drum pattern and a singalong chorus that is somehow both triumphant battle cry and ominously bleak warning. The track was co-written by Preston, and Hause reports that the two of them had differing opinions on the track’s ultimate point of view. Regarding the cathartic chants of “We’re never gonna die!” that appear throughout the song, Preston was of the opinion that the line was a challenge. “He was like “I want it to be defiant!” And I was like, “well, I think of we’re never going to die as a threat. It’s a threat to the planet. It’s a threat to ourselves,” Hause explains. “He and I have totally different views on what the song even means, and I think the tension in those two ideas is what makes it pretty cool.”

From there, the album finds the band continuing to do what it does best as a unit and the Hause’s do best what they do as songwriters; pointed, sharp commentary and witty turns of phrase that point their swords both outward and inward. There are lead singles “Enough Hope” and “Look Alive” which are pointed looks at the world around us falling to shit in the wake of the billionaire oligarch class. There’s the four-on-the-floor singalong celebration of the trials and tribulations that bond a long-term group of compatriots for life that is “Cellmates.” The chaotic “Mockingbird Blues” and similarly themed “Revisionist History,” the tongue-in-cheek Boomer-ific ode to days gone by. There’s the Tom Thumb-meets-Dropkick Murphy-ish “Rumspringa,” which is a bit of a high-water mark in regards to strictly fun songs in the Hause oeuvre. “Those were sort of placeholder lyrics. They were sort of silly. They were sort of fun. And then I just was like, “why don’t we just sing that? Yeah, this is fun!” It doesn’t have to always be about, you know, the existential dread or these intense feelings,” he explains. There is the more mid-tempo “Yer Outta My Hair,” which tells of the need to finally end a relationship after years spent hoping the other person would get their life in order. 

There’s also the first cover on a Dave Hause solo record. At first listen, the blood harmonies on “Bible Passages” seem like they were written not only by Hauses, but specifically for the Hauses to play in all as a duo in a haunted, centuries-old European church. In fact, the song wasn’t written by them at all, but by Rise Against’s Tim McIlrath. While he’s no-doubt known for writing stadium sized anthemic modern rock bangers, McIlrath, like Hause, is first and foremost a songwriter at heart. Hause explains: “I would always ask him, “what are you gonna do with that song?” “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know.” And somewhere in there, he either said like, “you should cut it.” Or I said like, “well, what if I cut it?” He’s like, “go for it.” I can’t remember exactly how it went down, but you know, we admire one another. And I just think like that side of him is so special and sweet. And so it’s an honor to have that song on the record.“

And what Dave Hause album circa the 2020s would be complete without an ode to his growing boys. …And The Mermaid closes with “May Every Last Fever Break,” a tendersong about guiding the next generation through the early, developing years as best you can, holding on when you need to and knowing that you’re doing their best for the day the training wheels come off. “I can see (the world) through their eyes,” Hause explains. “I can try to make that my main job. Like, “hey, let’s show them the world, show them what’s great about it, show them what’s wrong about it, show them their own agency in changing it and molding it.” Though it’s a bit of a stylistic departure from the bulk of the rest of the album, all were in agreement that “May Every Last Fever Break” not only works on its own, but shines as a closer. “Tim cried when I played it for him, so I knew I was onto something. It’s really tender. Alex, our manager, said “It’s my favorite song on the record,” which I thought was so awesome to have a manager that’s not looking at the catchiest song as his favorite because obviously, his job is to monetize the project. I love that song, and I feel so lucky to be able to make it.”

To return to the skateboarding metaphor, there’ll be no time for coasting for the remainder of the year for Harrison and Smith’s dad. It’ll be all kicking and pushing as Hause gears up for a loud fall and winter and beyond. Full-band shows in his home state of Pennsylvania kick off album release month before Dave and Tim head to Canada for a run of shows with Joey Cape. Then a few shows down the West Coast before a run in continental Europe and the UK. Then it’s back to the East Coast in November, followed by a run opening for the almighty Bouncing Souls out west again to close out the year. Most of those shows are more of the stripped-down variety, which means it’ll be 2026 before most of us get to see The Mermaid performing …And The Mermaid. There’ll also be more new music to follow in what seems to be short order. “My goal is to have made 10 studio solo records by the time I’m 50. And I’m 47,” says Hause. “And by this I mean made and put out. I’m not counting those three Loved Ones things – Versus, Nurses and Hearses. So that means I got work to do! I think, you know, because my mom died at 49, if I make it that far, I feel like I can reassess and who knows… I better get rhyming!”You can find all of Dave’s tour dates here. You can also still pre-order …And The Mermaid straight from the Hause brothers themselves via Blood Harmony Records. And you can listen to the first couple of singles below while you check out our full, extensive chat!

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

Dying Scene (Jay Stone): So, my friend, I really love this record. Not that I’m ever nervous about a Dave Hause record because the bar is only going to go so low (*both laugh*). I have done it a couple times where I don’t know I feel like I get a feeling the first time I listened to something, even from the first couple of notes of the first song on the record, like, I was like, “Oh, I get it. I love it already.” I know that there are 9.75 songs left to go, but even from the start of “A Knife In The Mud” I was like “Yup…this is the album I need right now.”

Dave Hause: That’s great. I’m really excited about it. I’m excited to get back on that kind of horse, which is like, if we’re using that weird metaphor I just walked into, this is like a conquering horse, you know? It’s the first one in a while that’s like, unabashedly rock and roll it, and I’m excited to play it live. I’m excited to put the band back out on the road. I mean, it’s interesting, because what we’re doing is releasing the album, doing some touring as a trio, and as a duo, to kind of get the word out and let people kind of get used to the record. And then next year, we’ll tour as a full band, kind of all over, where we’re used to going. I’m super excited to do that. I’m also looking at the budgets and going like, “Whoa, it’s hard, it’s hard to move a lot of people around day after day.” But every time I do an interview or listen to any part of the record, just for reference, I’m reminded about our mission statement, which is “let’s take this thing out and do it in rock clubs,” which we haven’t done in a while.

When did the album sort of calcify around that, like, rock and roll sound? Was it a conscious decision from the writing process to make a more rock record, or did you realize that’s how it was turning out as you went?

There were a couple of things; a couple of pivotal things. There’s a songwriter that I really love, who I had been pushing on Dan Andriano. It’s like, “man, you got to listen to these records. You got to go see him.” This is a couple of years ago. And he went and he went to the show. I checked in with him, and he’s like, “I liked it. But if I see you make a show like that, I’m going to be bummed.” I was like, “what do you mean?” And he said “you have a certain energy and a punk rock edge, even when you’re fingerpicking and playing quietly. That is so unique to you. Don’t lose that. Whatever you do, don’t lose that. Don’t have like a mild, chill show. That’s just not what I’m here for when it comes to you.” And I said, “OK, cool.” I kind of filed that away. And as my kids have come more and more online, they gravitated naturally towards Green Day. My wife and I are big fans, so I’ve been playing Green Day for them, especially in anticipation of that tour coming through. We took the boys to see Green Day, and it just I was just as into it as they were. I was like, “wow, this is spectacular.” That’s one of my favorite bands. Rancid as well. And the boys were just so into it, so it’s been a rediscovery of that and playing a lot of Bouncing Souls for them. We had the Souls at our festival, so there was just a lot of gearing up in that direction. And then I really fell in love with IDLES a couple of years ago. A lot of people had been bothering me like, “hey, dude, this is going to be your band.” And I sort of actively avoided it because I thought if “I love this as much as everyone thinks I’m going to, I’m going to really want to do something more in that realm, and I don’t have that’s not within my purview right now.” At that point, we had been working hard on the festival. We had done a bunch of stuff that was more listening-roomy and singer/songwriter stuff. But it was those three things – getting the boys into a lot of punk rock, falling in love with IDLES and then also Dan’s sort of planting that seed a couple of years ago. Also, I just think at some point, doing a bunch of stuff in Nashville and playing with a lot of singer-songwriters that are outside of like the punk thing, I kind of proved to myself that I could do it and feel comfortable. Blood Harmony and Drive It Like It’s Stolen were accepted enough that I didn’t feel like I had as much to prove, in terms of like, “well, I’m going to actively avoid playing like super loud or fast or whatever.” And so in this, it was just like, “let me just be open to whatever the band and I want to do in the moment. We’ll record a ton of stuff and then we’ll just see what we have.” I think that was kind of the way it all coalesced. 

Sort of like Dan said, you have always been, I think, even when doing solo stuff, you’re always a “front man.” Like you’re a singer, a brilliant songwriter, but you’re very much still a frontman. You have that ability, I think, whether it’s just you solo, or you and Tim in a stripped-down acoustic setting, you still have a way of commanding a crowd, getting out in front of the microphone, pulling people in towards you – it’s that sort of frontman magnetism that is so natural in a punk or rock band setting. 

Yeah! And I think I appreciate that. And I think instead of being shy about it, I’m just more comfortable with that idea. As I go on, you know, I was a fan of Bryan Adams. I think even you go see Flogging Molly, Dave King has this thing about him, or David Lee Roth. There’s all these people that I can kind of reference that I truly am inspired by. And I do think like on some level, you’re always putting on a show. Someone paid to come see a show, and I think, you know, as much as you hew to sort of this punk rock or purity kind of way of delivering the material, you also want something transcendent. I think sometimes that’s like taking some weird quality in yourself that maybe isn’t always on display and amping it up in order to have everybody feel like we’re doing something a little bit more special than just gathering in a room. So I think that’s kind of what it is. But I’ve just been more willing to embrace and feel more comfortable with that. I also think that the further I go, the more you want to just be you. If you have the opportunity to share your own artistry with an audience, make it as close to being what you think is great and not, “well, maybe I should pull this other thing and try this.” You know, it’s always good to follow the muse, but for now, for this record, it was more just like, “let’s not overthink it.” 

Did you have everything written before you went up to Vancouver – which is another thing I want to talk about after, the Vancouver thing. Did you have everything written or like skeletons of ideas…

We recorded like twenty-one or so songs in two weeks so… 

Wasn’t there talk of a double record? Am I making that up? Maybe that was a conversation I had with Tim and he was hinting about it, but was there talk of a double record at some point? 

I mean, there always is, right? And then you realize you’re living in 2025. (*both laugh*) I mean, for all intents and purposes, that’s what we did. We recorded a double record. And no, it wasn’t all done. It’s still not all done. And again, I think like on some level, the further I get, the more you go like, “well, let’s leave a little room for like Quincy Jones used to say in the recording process, like leave enough room for the Holy Spirit.” And obviously that’s got some strange, you know, Christian overtones. But I think that there’s something to it. In the modern age, you can essentially make a demo and have it sound almost exactly like it would sound, you know, if you went into a studio. There’s just so many tools at your disposal. And so having that power almost neutralizes that ability because you’re like, “Well, I could just do this at home. I can get these stems from Josh Freese’s drums.” And, you know, I think in that realm, knowing that there’s some special alchemy that happens when you put a bunch of people in a room with a really adept engineer, we were more open to the process. I was like, “I don’t know what’s going to happen. Let’s just try to get as much good work done as we can.” And it opened up this channel that felt really good. And so, yeah, you said you wanted to talk a bit about the Vancouver thing. That was amazing. I mean, Jesse Gander, I love his work. I love the sounds he gets. I like those Japandroids sounds quite a bit. The other stuff he’s done, I’ve always loved.

He did the last Fire In The Radio record, right?

Yes, yes, exactly. And that’s the link. So Jon Miller, who’s the songwriter for that band, has been friends with Jesse for a long time, and we’ve been friends here in Santa Barbara for 10 years now. He’s a wonderful guy. And he’s been saying, like, “You guys should work together. When you have a rock batch, you’ve got to work with Jesse.” And Jesse and I talked about it, and at first, it seemed cost-prohibitive because, you know, you can go to Nashville and it’s all kind of set up. You can have session guys come in and cut all day long and get a lot of work done in an efficient way. And this was more like, “well, we have to get everybody to Canada. We have to stay somewhere. We have to pay for the studio time. Like, it’s going to be a mountain when it comes to cost.” And Jesse was like, “Well, there’s a grant that the Canadian government or the British Colombian province offers that you would be perfect for because they want somebody who’s got an international fan base and will actually go out and play the record and the record will be heard, and they’ll subsidize it because it’s made here in Vancouver.” And that was true for like all these records back in the 80s and 90s. I think even like Aerosmith’s Pump was done there. And, you know, like there’s been a link to the Vancouver recording scene for a long time. So we ended up applying and we got the grant, and that defrayed a ton of the costs that would have prohibited our ability to go there and do it.

That’s amazing. Imagine when you actually pay attention to the arts and support the arts, right? 

Yeah. You get hopefully inspiring work and you put people to work in your province. And yeah, I mean, we could digress on that. 

Yeah, really. 

But it was wonderful. And so now we have this link to Jesse and we’re able to see how it works and we were able to live out the dream of what a band does. But rather than do what a lot of bands do, which is like, “OK, let’s hone in on the nine most catchy songs or whatever,” it was “let’s go in there and cut as much material as we can,” because I really believed in the band’s ability. We were a little unsure what it would be like because we’ve never done it, but man, did we just hit the ground running? We cut “Enough Hope” first and we were done it in under two hours. It was like “OK, here’s how the song might go. Let’s mess with it a little. OK, try this. Try this.” And it was done. And so rather than take our foot off the gas, we applied pressure. We’re like, “let’s try to get two today.” And I think we got four that day or something crazy. (*both laugh*) And Jesse was pumped. He was game to work that way. He wasn’t super precious with like, “OK, well, let’s get it exactly whatever you would think of is perfect” because there is no perfect. We just kept working and working and working, and then closer to the end, when guys had to start going home, it became clear what the record was probably going to be, and we were able to hone in on stuff and then put some stuff that’s like, you know, either joke songs or stuff that was like less fleshed out or weirder. We were able to prioritize. 

How live in the studio did you record? Because not that it sounds like a live record, and I don’t mean it that way, but there are times where like it sounds like you’re all in the room playing together. And there’s sort of mostly that like that Holy Spirit thing, I guess, that Quincy Jones was talking about, right? Like that sort of magic between the five of you?

That’s most of the record. I mean, even stuff you would think are obvious overdubs, like the beginning of “Cellmates,” where you hear that synthesizer come in, that was live in the room. Mark got that sound and arpeggiated it or whatever he did to get that, and we played right to that, and so we’re responding to that loop in real time. I don’t think we went back in and relayed in any overdub. There’s some obvious overdubs on the record. Obviously, you know, Tim didn’t sing the background vocals live. He probably could have actually, but we just didn’t set up for that. We just thought like, “oh, let’s try to get the basic tracks.” Most of what you hear is that band playing the songs, which is so fun. And I think there’s this like fantasy that all the Beatles would go in and they learn a song at nine a.m. and by noon they’d have it recorded. There’s a little bit of that goal that started to come in because we were like, “well, we are pretty old. We’re between like thirty-one and forty-seven. We’ve been doing this a long time, we should be able to kind of rise to the occasion.” And the confidence that builds when you get one down and they get another one down and you’re like, “oh, wait, maybe I’m not able to do all the stuff that like a Nashville guitar player could do, but maybe it sounds like me.” I can play like me in time and in tune. And so there was like a real confidence to start to build with the band as we took off in those first couple of days. 

This iteration of the Mermaid is like the iteration of the Mermaid sort of going forward, yeah? Obviously we’ve talked before that the idea was sort of that there would be maybe moving parts, and people have rotated in and out at times, but like seems like once you had this five together, like it’s kind of changed from maybe that initial idea into ‘a band.’ 

That’s the hope and that’s also the fear, right? So you hope that that’s true. You hope that we can keep this together for as long as we possibly can, maybe till our older days. But the fear is like every other band, bands are really hard to maintain. It’s really hard for people to be able to commit, given the limits of financial security and so forth. I think that’s why it’s always been called the Mermaid, you know? It feels like an oasis, a mirage, something you see and you can almost touch and then it swims away. And I think now more than ever, I would love for this to be the group of people we make music with until we’re good and old. I have much less interest in going in with hired guns now that I see what this band is capable of. But I’m also a realist and unfortunately – to use the skateboard analogy – like I’ve taken slams when it comes to that.

Right. 

And so, you know, hey, don’t hold it too tight and don’t be so loose that you that you don’t tell people how much you appreciate them. So it’s a balance. 

Yeah. You can hear that the band really gels on this record. We could talk at length about the whole record but there are a few moments that highlight that, like in “Mockingbird Blues,” there’s that line about “…out here in the wilderness, it’s hard to find a friend like that.” The first time I listened to the record was in the car with driving to my wife’s dad’s house in Connecticut and she pointed out that there are times where you say “it’s hard to find a friend” and then you can hear Mark twinkling on the keys, or then there’s like a cool little bass run. You can sort of hear everyone in the band separately. It’s sort of this unifying thing, like “out here in the wilderness, it’s hard to find a friend, but I’ve got four of them right here.” I feel like that feeling really translated.

Yeah, I mean, that’s really true. It was fun to be out with the Bouncing Souls together on tour because that is one of those magic bands that I got to spend a lot of time with that really is fun to be around, and what you see on stage is the distillation of that relationship backstage. They get along and there’s a shorthand and it’s just a beautiful group of people. It’s sort of like they’re my big brothers and here I was bringing my little brothers around, and to see this band click with the Souls was cool. They kind of know Mark from doing sessions in Asbury Park and he lives down there in Bradley Beach. They obviously know Tim. Kevin worked for them, but Luke was the wildcard, and Luke got in there and became buds with them. And within a couple of days, the Souls are like, “Well, we’re having a pizza party with The Mermaid on the bus!” Or after the show they’d be like “come on, come hang out!” It was really fun to see that gel. There was a really funny moment where the Souls wanted us to sing sort of like a backup to Greg’s version of “Ghosts on the Boardwalk,” and we’re standing there in the wings ready to go on. And I had a denim jacket on, and it was dark, dark lighting, and Bryan Kienlen is like “you’re kind of looking like Bruce Springsteen right now.” And I was like,”oh, thanks, man!” Bruce is a handsome guy, and I kind of like, you know, feeling myself. And he goes, “current Bruce Springsteen, of course.” (*both laugh*)

Seventy-whatever-year old Bruce. 

Yeah! And I was like, “oh, you had to do it, didn’t you?” And he starts cracking up. The band all falls out laughing. And he turns to the band and he goes, “you’re the little brothers, but the big brothers are here now.” (*both laugh*) And it was a great moment of like, you know, the two worlds kind of not just colliding, but coalescing. And so just to your point, it’s like having that friendship, having those bonds. I think you can you can feel that on stage and you can feel that in the songs. And there’s something really special about that.

Let’s get into subject matter on the record. 

OK!

You know this. I’m a one-trick pony when it comes to Dave Hause records, because you know the esteem with which I hold Devour in. So this like this is very much an amalgamation of the guy who wrote Devour and the guy who wrote Kick. There are some interesting like grown-up, but overlapping themes from those records. 

I think I might be the one-trick pony, man. (*both laugh*)

No! That will forever be my frame of reference for a lot of music, not just for yours. Like, that’s the album I’ve listened to most for the last 12 years, I think. 

Amazing. 

But there are times on this record where I will find myself singing along to it and getting goosebumps the way that I did to Devour the first couple of times I heard it. First time I heard “Autism Vaccine Blues” was at that Flogging Molly show in Boston 12 or 13 years ago now, which I think is the first time we met in person. I remember my brother and I looking at each other and just going “whoa…” That song gave me goosebumps and still tends to. And there are moments on this record that do the same thing. That’s happened, obviously, at other times in your catalog before. But even from the trumpet at the beginning of “Knife in the Mud”…I feel like we could talk for a while just about that trumpet line in a “Knife in the Mud” that comes back at the last song, because it sounds very much like a battle charge, but it also sounds very much like “Taps”…like a funeral procession. Which creates this feeling of “we’re either marching into battle…or we’re already dead. We’re already fucked.”  

That’s the weird thing about that song. We’re making a documentary about this record, and we just got the cut about that song. So everybody was interviewed about the record, and Luke had a demo of that, you know, basically the guitar part and the trumpet, and he called it Olympics. As we were kicking around ideas for the lyric, he didn’t have a melody or a lyric and we were building it. He was like, “I want it to be defiant!” The line “we’re never going to die!” came out of that idea. And I was like, “well, I think of we’re never going to die as a threat.”

Right!

It’s a threat to the planet. It’s a threat to ourselves. So when you see this cut in the documentary, if it stays this way, he and I have totally different views on what the song even means. And I think the tension in those two ideas is what makes it pretty cool, because I don’t think that that’s necessarily the best thing, that we’re never gonna die. But also you’re left with this feeling like, well, what else is there? There’s a Father John Misty song that he put out some years ago where it was like, well, “all we have is this.” So there’s some, he comes to some conclusion like that, where it’s like, “this is how fucked up it all is, but this is what it is.”

Right, what’s the alternative? 

Yeah. And I think that there’s a certain defiance in that, and there’s a certain amount of succumbing where you’re like, all right, it may not get better. And so I think the tension in that song is what makes it special. But I could tell, like Luke saw the cut and texted me, he’s like, “how do we have two totally different perspectives on a song we wrote together?”

I don’t know if you saw that Storytellers show or whatever it was, the VH1 show, but before Pearl Jam played “Alive,” Ed told a story about how he thought the “I’m still alive” line was meant as a curse. Like, “all this shit has collapsed around me, why do I still have to be alive to bear all of this” but then the crowd singing it for years turned that into a cathartic thing and lifted that curse.

Part of growing up is there is that tough couple decades of, “do I wanna be here? Why would I stay?” And then if you can get over a certain hump, you’re like, “Well, this is all there is and I’m lucky to get to see it. And I wanna stick around for as much of the pain as I can.” I mean, I just did an interview with Craig Finn for his podcast and he and I were talking about like, you got two options…you can either push the boulder up the hill or you get flattened by it. And those are your options.” And I would rather at least push, you know? Especially as you get older, because like the weddings and the firsts are all in the rearview, you know? Your first kiss and all that other, like that’s all so far behind. All those exciting things you’ve done. And so you’re left with like, well, “how do I derive meaning and purpose?” And that takes work.

That math has changed since the boys were born I’m assuming…

Totally, yeah.

I mean, it should, right? 

Yeah, I mean, I think that’s part of it. Now I can see it through their eyes. I can try to make that my main job. Like, “hey, let’s show them the world, show them what’s great about it, show them what’s wrong about it, show them their own agency in changing it and molding it.” Yeah, I mean, that’s definitely, that purpose is a major shift for me.

Is the “waiting on vultures” line at the beginning of “Knife In The Mud” a callback to the vulture theme at the end of the last record? It’s fun that the first line of this record is an immediate callback to the last song on the last record. 

I love it that you saw that.

Yeah, oh, right away. Well, to be fair, I knew it was a callback to the last record and I was pretty sure “The Vulture” was the last song on the last record but I did have to look to confirm that because I do have it on “shuffle” sometimes…

That’s right. Well, we also put out all those Loved Ones things too, so it’s confusing. You know, we need to relegate those to something other than full albums that we put out. But like on Spotify, it looks like we put out two or three records since Drive It Like It’s Stolen, which we haven’t. I mean, we have in theory, but you know, for those of us having this conversation, that is like the people who are most out into the work as it progresses, that’s old shit. 

Yeah, right, right. Although it’s interesting to me, there are a lot of people now, I think, who have discovered The Loved Ones through Dave Hause and not the other way around. I think that that has shifted over the last, I don’t know, well, probably 10 years at this point, but like there are people who stumbled into The Loved Ones because of your solo career and worked backwards. 

Well,  The Loved Ones headlined the last day of Sing Us Home 2024, and it was a smaller crowd than The Mermaid. So it was- 

That’s interesting. 

Yeah, it’s just, it’s what happened. It was a goal to not get eaten by the earlier work. And it was a goal that I have achieved, which is not easy in punk rock. I mean, I’m sure Rancid still has to talk about Operation Ivy, you know? And they’re one of the greatest bands of all time.  I think like to have that freedom is wonderful. And that’s what I wanted. I wanted it to feel free. I didn’t want to have to play old stuff just to keep people engaged. Now I feel like I’ve added that material to what the band or I can do whenever we want to rather than feeling like we have to. So it’s a wonderful treat to have had that sort of progress in that way.

My brother was not as into the depth of punk rock when as early as I was, but he’s a big fan of your solo work. So when I told him that we were talking again, he was like, “didn’t he just put out a new record? Like Nurses?” I was like, or Versus or Hearses, I forget which, whichever one came up on Spotify last. I was like, oh, hold up…you’re gonna have a little history lesson now. 

Yeah, yeah. You know what’s interesting is we live in these bubbles in music. You write about music, you’re very attuned to what’s happening and what artists are doing. I’m making this stuff, so I’m very precious about it and so forth. But there’s something leveling about having to go to school functions with people who have kids your age and go, “I’m a musician.” And they go like, “anything I’ve ever heard?” And you go, “probably not.” (*both laugh*) And then they sort of inevitably wanna know more. They wanna follow. And then you get into this funny thing where you’re like, they’re like, what’s your latest record? And I’m like, well, it’s this thing called Versus, but it’s not a real record. And you’re like, oh my God, this is like so inside baseball. These people are just trying to get the kids dropped off on time and get to work. They’re not looking for a David Lynch style deep dive into all the meaning behind your work. They wanna know if that shit slaps and they can put it on after Benson Boone and go, hey, this is Smith and Harrison’s dad’s music. It’s a good reminder of like, fuck man, people in America specifically are very, very inundated with information. Don’t get so precious with the delivery system. So in a weird way, I’m trying to play to you or to like our two people who run the fan club, Susan and Manuela. I’m trying to play to you and those two, right? That’s the bullseye. But I’m also very aware of the other rings of people who are like, “look, I got about 20 minutes here. What do you got? Play me the catchiest shit.” 

Right, right. Can I put this on my Peloton playlist or? 

Yes. Well, with this record, the answer is yes. (*both laugh*)

Yeah, I think so. Especially the anthemic stuff. “Look Alive,” absolutely. There’s a sense too, it may be this is just me storytelling, but even the big anthemic rock and roll songs on this record have that like Jersey punk rock, like the Souls thing, right? Like the “yas” and the “woahs.” I forget if it was you or Fallon or somebody else I have seen live talk about that it’s such a Jersey thing…Jersey, Philly, whatever…that like there’s always gotta be “yas” and “woahs” in a song. Maybe it was Sammy Kay, I don’t know. But to me, that’s like pulling the audience – like pulling us – into The Mermaid in a sense, right? Like The Mermaid isn’t just four plus you, it’s like us, Susan, Manuela, the Rankers…that pulls us into part of it. 

I think it’s important that songs get sung. And I also am well aware that I’m unpacking lots of stuff in the lyric, in the verses and in the bridges and often in the chorus. But I was raised in the church and I think you can get to it in the sermon but you gotta have spots where the “amens” are there. And I think it does make for a communal experience if you add that. I feel like that song “Cellmates” – there’s a lot of information coming at you and there is this reprieve in the “whoas” where we can all just sing and whatever that song might mean to you, you have an opportunity there, or in “Damn Personal” to like just sing along. It’s pretty simple. And so there’s something special and useful about that to me. They’re songs, you’re supposed to sing them. 

That “Cellmates” song…it’s hard to find a favorite on the record because every time I put the record on I’m like, “oh yeah, this is my favorite song.” “Cellmates” comes on and I’m like, oh wait, no, this might be my favorite song on the record. And then “Look Alive” comes on and then “Mockingbird…” comes on. It’s like, we just keep going, hit after hit after hit. But that one especially, like I’d love the nod to the Hold Steady in there. “Pills and powders, baby, powders and pills.” 

Yeah, yeah, we’ve been able to play together a bunch, whether it was with The Loved Ones, and then just in recent years, I’ve opened for them at various spots. Craig came and played our festival. There’s some overlap. And I think the cool thing about that community is they know when artists are huge fans of the Hold Steady. Like they know that like Frank Turner or me or whoever is like our Hold Steady boosters. We’re in the Unified Scene. And so they go like, oh, check it out. So I think that to me, it just really fit what I was singing about. We did lots of pills and took lots of powders. And so why not, if somebody has said it better and he’s a pal and he’s not gonna sue me, why not? He was pumped. He asked me about it when we did the interview and he was fired up. 

Yeah I could see that!

It was interesting in that song because I think we had a better lyric than the one we used. It went, “you should have seen us at 22 like a stick and poke jail tattoo.” We were way out of line, crooked and wild, we were loose.” And we were making the song and I was pretty convinced on that line. And then Luke was like, “yeah, but look at those tattoos you have. They’re so bad on your leg.” And I was like, “well, those were Kienlen’s first tries at tattoos.” “Oh really?” “Oh yeah.” And he was like, “why don’t we do that like a prank?” And I was like, “well, I don’t think he’s gonna go for that. He’s a successful tattooer now. He’s really good. He owns a shop.” And so he was like, “well, ask him.” And I was like, “ah, it’s a weird thing to ask him via text.” So I played with the Souls in Anaheim or somewhere. And Bryan is one of these like genius artistic types where he’s so busy taking in his surroundings and he’s kind of like a wild card, but if you ask him a question about creativity, he locks in. And he was getting ready to go on stage. I think he had taken his tequila shot and he was like, “all right, I’m ready.” And I was like, “I don’t know if I’m gonna be here when you guys get off stage.” You know, he’s kind of annoyed. And I was like, “I just gotta run this by you.” And I gave him the two options. And I was like, “it’s not meant as a diss. It’s meant as like, I know you’re a successful tattooer with this wonderful shop that’s always booked. What do you think?” He goes, “I wanna be in that song, of course! And he was like, “I don’t have an ego about it. My first tattoos, they were first tattoos.” And so it was cool. I got his buy-in and then we went with that. I still like the other lines better, but I want my friend in there. Like, I love Bryan. Bryan Kienlen’s one of my favorite people on the planet, so. 

Absolutely, yeah, same. 

Yeah, so it was cool that he was down for it. He was like, oh, sure, put it in. 

Yeah, the sentiment isn’t that he’s a sketchy tattoo artist. The sentiment is like, at 22, that’s what we were. We were all sketchy. We were learning as we went, right? 

Right, right. And right, we were taking our skateboard slams. And he landed it. I mean, his shop is never not busy. So it worked out. 

He did my True Believer tattoo at his little shop. 

I love it, I love it. He’s such a beacon of light for how to live. He’s taught me more about like how to conduct myself as a person than most people. He’s just “go for it, figure it out. You’re gonna get punched in the mouth, keep going.” I just love that guy. 

Yeah, that whole group, but he’s one of a kind. They really all are though, aren’t they? 

Oh, absolutely, absolutely. I mean, they’ve been a beacon of light for me for… man…30 years. Yeah, they’re all wonderful. I mean, Pete, obviously I’ve made so much music with him. He was a cellmate, man. We go deep. We’ve been through a lot together. And then Greg too, like this is a very gracious person. The Souls did the festival and then Greg gave me a report on what he thought was the best parts of it, stuff that could have used work, whatever like that, which he didn’t have to do that. He could have just taken the money and ran. But he believed in it enough to keep doing more stuff like this. And maybe this thing didn’t work as well. I just love those guys so much. 

I feel like my admiration and appreciation for them, like every year just sort of deepens. Like, I might get further from some of the early punk rock music that I listened to and kind of left behind. But that band, especially, my admiration and appreciation for them just keeps like every year just keeps getting stronger and stronger. 

Luke, you know, he’s in Nashville. He’s a Nashville songwriter. And he also plays in Reliant K. And he gets hired to do gigs where country guys that are on the radio, like they ask him to play bass for a weekend. And so he sees a lot of pockets of the music industry. And we did that Souls tour. And he just was like, “This is the best. This is the best. This is the way you want your life to feel.” And it was good! It was like, it was affirming. Cause you never know, right? You think the grass might be greener in these pockets where it’s more successful or whatever. And Luke was like, “dude, the room is full. The room’s been full for them for 30 years. They have the best attitude. They have friends everywhere. It feels like a family reunion. Like this is the best it gets.” And that was such a cool thing to see to a newcomer. 

Yeah, yeah, yeah. But he’s a newcomer who’s been around a little bit. 

That’s right. Yeah. A newcomer to their world. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

“Bible Passages,” the Tim McIlrath song. That song sounds like it should have been written by and for you and Tim in like one of the haunted churches. Like that, that song sounds like I would imagine those shows sound. It seems like a perfect you and Tim song. 

Yeah. Yeah, I’m excited about that one. I just feel like that was a song that should be in the world. And it’s so cool that he’s excited that we made it. It was funny. Even his manager emailed Alex (Fang, the Hause brothers’ manager). It was like, “This turned out great. Like we’re excited about this.” He’s just a wonderful songwriter. And I think a lot of times when you’re in punk bands and really big rock bands, it becomes about that. And you sometimes forget how great a songwriter, you know, Rage Against the Machine is, or, you know, you don’t think as much in those terms because it’s just not the way it’s delivered, but they’re great at writing songs. That’s really what they’re truly great at. They’re also great performers and they have a whole aesthetic and all that is true. But, you know, you hear that song “Violence” off of Wolves and it’s like just masterful songwriting. And so, yeah, I would always ask him, “What are you gonna do with that song?” “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know.” And somewhere in there, he either said like, “you should cut it.” Or I said like, “well, what if I cut it?” He’s like, “go for it.” I can’t remember exactly how it went down, but you know, we admire one another. And I just think like that side of him is so special and sweet. And so it’s an honor to have that song on the record. 

Is that a thing that you consciously think about or worry about when writing a rock record versus a more Americana songwriter record? You talk about that you kind of forget sometimes how good a songwriter Tim is because they make these big rock and roll songs and it’s about the theatrics of it. Is that a thing that you consciously think about when switching back to like the sort of punk rock part of your brain? 

I didn’t, I just thought like, “let’s just go full energy.” I’m not as worried. I mean, I guess in some way, the construction of it, I’m still worried. Like we’re still going around and going, “what’s the best lyric? What’s the thing we want to say?” We did that, that kind of work, Tim and Luke and I, especially. I used to be more worried and now I’m just like, “I want this to be fun.” And I feel like, I mean, as fun as the Dave Hause record can be. (*both laugh*) Like, we’re still dealing with existential dread and the erosion of everything we thought we held dear. You know, we’re still in the deep end, but like, let’s splash a little. (*both laugh*)

Well, “Rumspringa” is a pretty fun song. That’s such a uniquely Pennsylvanian song too, by the way. 

Yeah, well, with a German nod. That’s a Southern German word that means “to jump around.” So I knew about that. And obviously, you know about the Amish word for like when they’re allowed to go sow their wild oats. And I had that riff. It was a friend of mine, Mitchell, who helped me make Devour. That was his riff. And I had it sitting around, “oh, I gotta do something with Mitchell’s riff.” And those were sort of placeholder lyrics. They were sort of silly. They were sort of fun. And then I just was like, “why don’t we just sing that? Yeah, this is fun!” It doesn’t have to always be about, you know, the existential dread or these intense feelings. And it’s fun, you know? I mean, I love the Dropkick Murphys. I love to see them play. And some of their songs are just fun. And everybody’s having a great time. I mean, you know better than anyone. You’re a Massachusetts man. And so- 

Talk about another band that I appreciate a lot more now than I did. And I’ve seen that band more times than I can count. I don’t wanna I have a weird relationship with the band, but there’s like that whole weird part of their fandom sometimes. Maybe that’s specific to up here, but like there’s a really weird portion of their fan base, which I think they’ve tried to eliminate. There was a weird section of their fanbase at shows that turned me off for a while, but I’ve enjoyed the hell out of the last half dozen years of Dropkick Murphys shows that I’ve gone to. And I’ve really developed more of an appreciation for that band, especially now with how public they’re being about like where they stand on everything. 

Yeah, Ken is a treasure. He’s a punk rock treasure. He’s a born leader. And he’s leading the band and that fan base. In the right direction in terms of history and that is commendable. 

And I think that it’s a conscious decision for him. Like, I really appreciate that because he could have not done that, right? Like- 

I had a visceral reaction to a quote I saw. I saw him say, “you’re being conned by the most successful con man in history.” And I went, I’m not, I know he’s not. Cause I didn’t want to give that much credit to Trump, you know? 

Yeah, right.

But then I sat and thought about it. I was like, why am I having this reaction? And I thought, wait a minute, he’s right. He’s leading the American people. You don’t really get much more influential than that. 

Right. 

And he is a con man. And so when it comes to cons, this is the biggest one in at least modern history. And I thought, “wow, Ken really nailed it on that one.” And yeah, he’s been incredible in terms of like what he’s willing to say, putting his ass out there on the line with fans that might, you know, if there’s a band that is walking that line with having fans on both sides of the political spectrum, it’s them. To their credit, you know? I think he speaks his heart. I think he’s just working class. He understands that most police officers and firefighters are working-class people. And, you know, I think he’s willing to say some things that a lot of people that are much more radically motivated would turn their noses up to. But then he’s also willing to go whole hog at the leader of the free world, which is these days not, it can be fairly terrifying to do so. 

Yeah, that’s not necessarily a business decision. 

No, Stephen Colbert and- 

Yeah, and I think that he doesn’t get enough credit sometimes as a songwriter too. 

I agree.

I think especially on the new record. The new record I enjoy more than any Dropkick record in years. Like, I really liked the Woody Guthrie records because they’re different. But in terms of an actual Dropkick Murphy’s record, I really liked this one more than I have that last probably half dozen. There’s some real emotional depth to it. And you don’t necessarily go into a Dropkick record thinking emotional depth because you’re used to “Shipping Up To Boston” and “Tessie” and “Mick Jones Nicked Me Pudding” or whatever the fuck, like that sort of fun thing, right? 

Yeah, and good on them for having fun! Yeah, they don’t get enough credit in the songwriter world, but they do, but they are like a huge band. It’s great to see them pushing everything forward and not resting on their laurels. I love that whenever a band keeps taking chances, you got my vote.

Right! What other songs did I wanna pick your brain about? Oh, so without getting too in the weeds, a song like “You’re Out of My Hair,” clearly written about a specific person or whatever, but do you write knowing that the person that this is about is going to hear it? I’ve always wondered about that. If there’s a song that sounds like, and it’s not just with yours, but that sounds like there’s clearly a person in mind, do you write with the intention that the person’s going to hear it or do you not worry about that? 

The rest of our band worried about that. (*both laugh*) And at different points encouraged me to pull a punch or two, knowing that the person would hear it and I didn’t (pull those punches).

Or is that like a Carly Simon, like you’re so vain, you think this song’s about you. Like, do you think that there are a dozen people out there that will think, “oh, this song’s about me?” Or do you think that the person who it’s about is gonna know? 

I think the person will know. And I think a couple of people will think it’s about them, or will assume it’s about them. I think that’s a weird thing to straddle because you don’t ever want to hurt anyone intentionally…

Right. 

…but also like pulling a punch seems weird because like, what’s the best thing for the song? The best thing for the song is to say what I said, I think. 

The authenticity, right.

Yeah. And there’s references in that song that no one will get but that person and the guys in the room. I think that the verdict’s still out. I mean, I think as you get older and further into life, the tendency is to not be as sharp with some of those kinds of things, knowing that it could bring pain. But it’s not like publicly anyone’s gonna know that it’s about this specific person and then therefore that person would feel pain in that sort of public way, that like doxxing sort of way or whatever. I think they’ll be all right. 

I think the authenticity of it, I think is what makes the song good. 

I think in the end, to say you’re out of my hair, everybody knows what that means. Like, I don’t have to deal with you anymore, right? Everybody can relate to that. I’m like, I gotta get this person out of my hair. And then it’s just qualified right away. Like, I’m pretending I don’t care. I do care. It hurts. I miss this person. I love this person. I wish they could change. I wish I could make room for them in my life. And, you know, I’m a victim of somebody who believes way too long in the promise of somebody and what they’re capable of. And I hold out for people who I see the shine in. I see it and I go like, “well, if they just do this, they’re going to achieve some level of self-actualization.” And sometimes I just hang on too long. So I think in that sense, if the person hears it and is bummed, they’ll at least know I love them because I’m pretending I don’t care. I do care. 

Right. That’s part of the recovery thing, right? Like knowing that maybe they fucked up ninety-nine times – to go back to the skateboarding thing again – maybe they fucked up ninety-nine times, but it’s the hundredth time of hearing the message, that is the time that it’s going to actually land. 

I also think that, you know, the older I get, one of the things for me is like, I believe this person will get it together. But I also am OK if I’m not there to see it. I guess I’ve got to be done. I can wish you well, I can send my love, but we don’t have to interact all the time. I think that’s a hard lesson to learn. A hard thing to kind of go with. But I think it’s necessary sometimes. I mean, I got other things I got to do. 

Switching gears a little. “Enough Hope.” What a great, great song. Is that the one that you said you wrote first?

No, that was what we cut first. That was the first one in that process. No, I had it pretty early on, but (originally) it was “enough rope,” and I was like, “I can’t sing that, that’s a Clash lyric.” And then Tim was like,”what about enough hope? They’ll hang themselves.” And I was like, “oh, that’s good. I wish I wrote that.” 

Nice of him to donate it to you. 

Oh, yeah. He’s very, very giving. No, the first song I wrote for the record was “Mockingbird.” At the time, I thought I was going to make like a Tom Waits-esque bash when I had that one. “Enough Hope” was a weird thing to put out first. I was sort of hedging the bet knowing we had “Look Alive” to follow it up with because it is bleak. It doesn’t sound bleak, but it is a bleak thing. Like “give them enough rope and they’ll hang themselves…” What do you do with that other than sit in it? I do think that was the cynical nature with which we were treated by the American political machinations. I mean, even the Kamala / Joe Biden thing, it was like, you know, Joe Biden drops out of the race or whatever, and he’s like, “oh, now you have to vote for this lady.” 

Yeah, right.

Which I was fine to do, you know, because I know what the alternative was. But it did seem cynical. 

Push the boulder or let it crush you.

Right. Right. Sure. So I can make that adjustment in my head. But I also knew…I don’t know if this is going to work and this isn’t really what you promised. It’s not really what we want. Whether you like her or not or like him or not, it seems cynical. It was like, “dude, you are not up for this. And you said you were going to be a one-term president. And now the cynicism and hubris with which you approach this…and we’re supposed to hang on this? Yeah, we hung. We hung, alright. Yeah, we fucked up! And then I mean, but that’s not to say anything of what it must feel like to be Elon Musk or Mark Zuckerberg and have the immense power of the billions and then to want more. “I want to influence public policy.” It’s like, man, fuck you. And so with that, you know, I just think like we can all agree on “fuck billionaires.” What’s there for you that we like? We like Taylor Swift. We like Bruce Springsteen and we like Jay-Z, I guess. But like. Other than that, fuck ‘em! (*both laugh*)

Is it tough writing a song like that from that perspective? Not that you necessarily put yourself in the shoes of a billionaire or whatever, but like you sort of write from the other perspective in that sort of “Stockholm Syndrome” way…to go back to my one-trick pony thing. 

Yeah, you go to what it feels like to bully. You know, like, it’s gross, but we can all access that. We’re human, you know? Like, what would it feel like to have ultimate power and completely divorce yourself from your humanity and empathy? You’d laugh at people who can’t make the rent checks. 

Yeah, right. 

It’s disgusting, but if you put yourself into that monstrous headspace, you can see that complete distance between your reality and someone else’s. 

The record ends on maybe the sweetest song – or at least one of the top five sweetest songs in the Dave Hause catalog – “May Every Last Fever Break.” What a gorgeous little tune. 

Thank you. I had an old friend say it was so sad they almost had to turn it off. And I said, “it’s a love letter to my sons.” This is an old friend who’s a hardcore guy. And he wasn’t paying attention to the lyric, it just sounded sad. And I was like, “all right, well, thanks for nothing.” (both laugh*) But Tim cried when I played it for him. so I knew I was onto something. Yeah, it’s really tender. Alex, our manager, said “it’s my favorite song on the record,” which I thought was so awesome to have a manager that’s not looking at the catchiest song as his favorite because obviously, his job is to monetize the project. I love that song, and I feel so lucky to be able to make it. And we played it the second day of Sing Us Home and my father-in-law was there. He’s the boys’ grandpa on my wife’s side. He was like, “Hey, that last song, people around me were crying.” It really felt that he was like, “I could feel all the feels” and I was like, “Whoa!” He’s like a retired firefighter, California guy. Works the land. He’s a wonderful dude, but he’s not necessarily gonna cry at a movie or whatever. And so to have him engaged in that way was really touching. I love how that turned out. And hopefully the fans love it enough that we could like end the show with it. It’d be really fun. 

Oh, absolutely. I think it’s a good end to that record. Like it’s very much a rock and roll record, obviously. But that’s such like a like a, I don’t know if like a soft landing for the record is such like, like a like a perfect little way to end the record. 

Thanks, man. 

Like, “I’m still a songwriter, damn it! (*both laugh*) I’m not just a punk rock frontman! I’m also like I can write that.”

Well, it’s really more I’m just the dad who’s well aware of my own limitations. And hopefully I’m writing something that people can relate to if they’re parents. Or even if they’re not like, we are wishing against all odds that there’ll be a California out there or a utopia of some kind that isn’t going to get waterlogged by climate change or set on fire. And I think increasingly, it doesn’t feel like there will be, but we are hoping for that. There were two instances that inform that song. One was the second year of Sing Us Home. It rained for 48 straight hours. We were losing money. And it was scary. The Mermaid played and I had to drive my wife and kids back to the Airbnb because they were kind of coming unglued. And my son Smith is really empathic. He was like, “Dad, I’m proud of you.” And it was little kid, you know, five years old or whatever..and he’s holding my hand as I was driving. And I was like, “I gotta let go but only so I can steer buddy!” And so I go “Shit, I gotta put that down.” And so there was that “hold your hand, but I gotta get us into the clear” kind of thing came after that. But then also my son Harrison…with twins, you got to at least come up with two songs or two ideas…(*both laugh*) And Harrison later got sick. He had one of those fevers that freaks you out, and you can do nothing but hold them. You know that feeling, man! Your kid gets a fever and the world starts to just completely cave in. So those two things were what drove me, you know, through most of the song and then “may every last fever break.” I guess I just got that in a clutch moment as I finished up. I needed a postscript or a final thing to say and I don’t know, it just kind of blew in. It felt like I was kind of channeling, which is always a good feeling. 

Yeah, just like the instrumentation sort of pulling out and it just ending on that note, and then circling back to the trumpet from the first song…what a perfect way to link the whole thing together. 

Yeah, that was an accident. 

Oh, really? 

Yeah, I had it sequenced, and was listening in that sequence. And the song ended with “may every last fever break” and then this record started over. And the trumpet hit and I was like, “Oh, wait, it’s gotta do that.” I called Jesse and was like, “Hey, this just happened as I was listening to make sure that the spacing was right and all that stuff. Can we add that?” And he was like, “Oh, great idea.” It bookends it and brings back that idea that you said where it’s like, it’s a little bit of the Olympics, and it’s a little bit of Taps with that trumpet line. And then in the end there, you feel like it’s a slightly preemptive, sad way to wrap things up.

Yeah. And then when it immediately starts over again, it sort of informs the whole record that way. Listening to it the second time is very different than listening to it the first time. And I don’t know if it would have been as noticeable that way if there wasn’t just that little bit of the trumpet fade at the end to add an interesting context to listening the second time. 

Thanks, man. I thought so. I’m always glad when those things connect with anybody because a lot of times you’re in the business of promoting the record and you’re like, “Hey, I have this song, Enough Hope” or “I have this song Look Alive, please stream it.” And that part is necessary. It’s part of the process of like, making people aware of what you’re doing. But the real goal and passion and all this is that more nuanced and subtle story you’re trying to tell. 

You’re always going to be a guy that writes a record, right? Like, l know the trend has been to write singles and whatever, but like, you’re going to be a guy who writes records, which I love and appreciate. 

I think so. I mean, my goal, which I don’t think I’ve said out loud, but better to say it here than anywhere. My goal is to have made 10 studio solo records by the time I’m 50. And I’m 47. And by this I mean made and put out. I’m not counting those three Loved Ones things, Versus, Nurses and Hearses. So 10 full-length studio albums at the time I’m 50. So that means I got work to do! *both laugh*) I think, you know, because my mom died at 49, if I make it that far, I feel like I can reassess and who knows, I might just make singles after that. But I feel like that is a mountain I’m trying to climb. And I’m afraid because now I just said it out loud. 

Now it’s in the universe, so you have to materialize, right? 

I hope so. Yeah, I better get rhyming. (*both laugh*)

This is what you would is number seven, but you said eight is kind of mostly in the bag, right? Or at least you have a bunch of songs written. 

I don’t know, I got a wild hair to do something else. I have those songs recorded and in the vault. But now I’ve got this other plan that just developed.

Now you’re gonna do the Tom Waits-esque record? 

No, I don’t know. I’m feeling pretty punk. 

Good! 

So maybe even further. (*both laugh*) At least that’s what’s compelling me right now. I called Luke the other day and I was like, “let’s go full bore.” And he was like, “Okay, I’m game.” You know, we’ll see what Tim says. Tim usually will be the guy going like, “it needs a chorus.” And he’s right.