At The Drive-In

To see the scene outside San Francisco’s Bottom of the Hill, a small rock club in San Francisco’s industrial lowlands, it doesn’t take much to figure out that something big is happening. A long line of indie hipsters, wind-breaker-clad and tattooed punk rockers, and college rock types runs the distance from the club’s front door to the end of the block. The big deal is a live performance from up-and-coming indie superstars At The Drive-In, and while the crowd grows, At The Drive-In guitarists Jim and Omar are getting some downtime in one of three monster-sized Club Wagon touring vans parked in front of the venue. The air outside is literally buzzing with anticipation, and the evening’s event is already sold out.

This scene is a far cry from At The Drive-In’s roots. The band, who are from the border town of El Paso, Texas, started up over six years ago, putting out 7" records on their own label. From there, they released one album on Flipside, one on Offtime, and finally landed on Fearless Records. ATDI’s Fearless releases — the incredible full-length In / Out / Casino and the Vaya EP — sparked the interests of indie fans nationwide, and landed ATDI some notoriety and spots at bigger live shows.

After being spotted by Sonic Youth at a festival, the legendary New York art rock band told their manager, Gary Gersch, about At The Drive-In, and a few months further down the road, ATDI was signed by Gersch to his DEN Records label. However, due to a partnership with a Web site that went south, the DEN label was kind of put on hold. But Gersch also manages the Beastie Boys, whose Grand Royal Records’ contract with major player Capitol Records had run out around the same time, and fusing the DEN roster with Grand Royal was exactly what each needed. At the Drive-In has since been on tour with Rage Against the Machine — at Rage’s specific request — as well as on the road around the world playing their intelligent and powerful brand of rock to eager fans.

So now, with a home at a revitalized record label, a new album, Relationship of Command, and a growing reputation as a blistering live band, the guys of this humble Texas quintet — guitarists Jim and Omar, frontman Cedric, bassist Paul and drummer Tony — are starting to get the recognition they’ve been working towards for the better half of the last decade. Scenes like the growing madness in front of Bottom of the Hill are becoming commonplace.

Inside the band’s van, Jim is seated on the center bench, his back against the wall, watching the line grow as other band members, sound people and bouncers come in and out of the club’s front door. Omar sleeps, barely noticeable, wrapped up in his jean jacket in the van’s way-back cargo space. The only sign of his presence is the top of his afro sticking up from behind the back seat, and the occasional, groggy and sleepy-eyed comment. Jim is mellow but alert, and as the designated answer man for this interview session — one of many throughout the band’s long day in the Bay — responds with a forthrightness and clarity about success and those who would see it as something other than the pay off for a lot of hard work.

I think each of us deals with it in a different way. I enjoy the business, the art of people and dealing with situations, so for me it’s really fun. Other people don’t give a fuck about the business, they don’t want to be around it. As a band, we’re really just concentrated on making really good records and playing our hardest when we play live. But we are getting to meet insanely talented people who are really good at what they do and good, honest people who have good hearts. All we’re really doing is building a life for ourselves so we can do whatever we want to, and that’s been exciting. But as far as more attention and stuff like that, we really haven’t seen it yet. I mean, we’ve done more of what we’re doing right now than hanging out with new fans or anything like that, and it’s not like we’ve sold very many records. We think of it as the biggest joke because we really haven’t sold that many records — a lot of people think we will, maybe — but we don’t really care.

Um…yeah, but it’s tough to play in front of kids who really don’t give a crap about anything except the band they paid to see, and we’re not used to that. We’re from the independent community where you at least pay attention most of the time, and you definitely don’t throw stuff. So the kids up front were kind of tough to tackle, but I think we won some over. We’ve gotten letters from people that have said, "I saw you with Rage and then bought all your records. I’m glad you guys played that show." So that makes it all worth it. And it was worth it to hang out with good guys. Rage — they’re super nice guys.

I don’t know if we have. I mean, we’ve played Bottom of the Hill four or five times, and we’re here again. I don’t think any of us really assume anything. There are a lot of people betting their careers on us making a dent in the record industry, and I’m glad to have people behind us who really believe in us, but at the same time I just don’t think that way. We don’t think about selling millions of records, or even thousands of records. We just think about making records, and whatever happens…happens. I mean, this is what we’ve been doing for years, and I think it’s been really gradual for us because we’ve been in "the meetings" — we were scouted by Warner and Reprise — and that was more of a headache than any of this has been. Those labels were wack — nice guys, but as far as business practices, it wasn’t for us. DEN was good for us because we were the only band for a while, and that’s an awesome place to be. We had a whole company that worked for us. And Grand Royal’s great — small roster, really good people, awesome bands.

I think one reason we switched to a bigger label is because it gave us a bit more freedom as far as making records. That’s what I mean by building, making a name so we can make records for the next couple of years. It doesn’t mean we’re going to buy houses — two people in the band own a car, one person in the band doesn’t even have his license, none of us owns houses, we’re barely scraping by paying rent. It’s not like we as people have changed at all, except I think we’ve become a bit more worldly and are aware of things a little bit more. Like, you can say that major labels are horrible and they’re crap, but have you been on one? I used to be that person years ago, saying, "Jawbreaker, you sold out, I’m bummed." Then I listened to their major label release, and it’s one of my favorite records now.

Yeah, we get it every now and then, but we got it when we went to Flipside. I had a guy come to my house in El Paso and say he’s gonna kick my ass because "the next thing you know, Geffen’s gonna come to our town and rape all the bands." That was in 1996. I get tired of trying to talk to kids, trying to get them to hear me out. But now I’m at the point where I think, if you don’t like our band, then fine, don’t buy the fuckin’ record and don’t pay the money to see us live. To me, that’s the difference with bands of our generation going to major labels. Look at Modest Mouse. They don’t give a fuck about the money or how many records they sell. I just read an interview with Isaac [Brock, Modest Mouse] where he said he went to a major label because he just wanted to make a record for more than just a few days, and that’s exactly what we wanted to do — take some time. But that costs money because you have to pay for tape and studio time and all this other stuff. I think the kids who complain are missing that. It’s really easy to think that way when you’re 15 or 16 and mom and dad pay the bills, and all of us were those kids at one point. And it’s super easy to get disgusted by people who are making a living off their art, but our van doesn’t run on fuckin’ ideals, our van runs on gas. Thankfully, it’s also one of those attitudes that’s died down a lot.

Yeah, things are picking up, more people are going to see us play and when you start getting paid a little more, you can fly around to different countries. We’re not losing our asses anymore, so it’s easier to go to Europe three or four times a year for small amounts of time instead of once for two months, which is just brutal.

Omar: No, but that’s because we’re gone all the time. We’ve played eight months out of this year.

Jim: The last time any of us worked a job was March of last year. Then we went on tour with Jimmy Eat World, and we really haven’t been home much since. We haven’t had more than three weeks off at time.

Well, that comes from being cooped up in vans and houses and hotel room and airplanes — we gotta get it out. We have fun doing what when we do, you know, but in a way I sort of am afraid we’re pigeonholing ourselves and I really hope that people remember the music too, because we’re young right now, but if we continue to make records as we get old, the live show’s definitely going to go downhill. And you know, I think you can watch the Olympics and see people doing more interesting physical work than we do. I mean, we get into what we do — if we don’t then we’re not going to do it anymore. It does get tiring, though, when kids come up to us at shows and say, "I just drove eight hours, so you better fucking go off." But it’s like, you what, dude?

Omar: We drove eight hours today, too.

I think it’s just that we’re from El Paso, Texas, and we have a burning desire to do something other than nine-to-five jobs. To me it’s just that this is what we do…it’s the chi, man, the life force. I can only speak for myself, but music has saved my life, being in a band and playing music has made me a better person. I’ve seen and met so many wonderful people and seen so many great things. We stood in The Coliseum in Rome — we did it by playing music, and we did it from El Paso. I’m proud of what we’ve done and I’m proud of the way we’ve done it.

Pick up At The Drive-In’s latest, Relationship of Command (Grand Royal), available at finer record stores everywhere.

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