Leave 'em Wanting More

I caught up with Rocket From The Crypt's Petey X somewhere in the doldrums and arid expanses of the Southwestern United States. A vast stretch of baked earth punctuated by passing cacti, that space somewhere between Texas and New Mexico passes by unheralded; just another several hour drive linking destinations. But their next destination will be a much welcomed one. The six members of Rocket From the Crypt are returning back to their hometown of San Diego, CA, after a half-month tour with Sonny Vincent and The Spits, which took them from The Rocky Mountains of Colorado, to the metropolitan sprawl of NYC, up into Canada, then straight through the Midwest. With all the mileage covered in such a short span of time, they are understandably exhausted. The brief stopover will leave their touring mindset little time to recede, and after a short stay in the sunshine of their Southern California hometown, they will once again load into their bus, ready for another leg of their endless journey.
"Yeah, we got five days off until we go back for three weeks," says Petey, with a subdued air.
Following those slippery short days of sorting out their earthly lives, the group will again head north, through California, back up to Canada, and down again through the West Coast. The glitz and glam of a touring musician's life is more often than not undercut with ridiculous schedules, endless road hours and a colorful assortment of worldly discomforts. But like any band with ample touring experience, the trails of such travels have become second nature. A testament to the human spirit, adaptation sets in and what many would consider an extraordinary life becomes routine.
"It's pretty much clockwork, unless something crazy happens. We've been touring for about 10 years now, and we pretty much got it down to a pretty good science."
It would seem that striking out in that same van, with the same people and hitting primarily the same cities could get a little bit monotonous. To my surprise, says Rocket's long-time bassist, this isn't the case.
"I don't find it that way. I enjoy touring, I enjoy seeing the same people and the same places. I mean, I'm building friendships with people each time I see them. I love that. I love to travel, and I love playing music. You get all of that and there's no other way to really fill that void. I can see how some people would get tired of it and it can get a little bit monotonous, but I can tell you that I love it."
A necessary evil at worst, Petey's calling calls for those hotel beds, late-night diner pit stops and countless road hours, and he'll make the best of that interim, spending quality time with his bandmates…and attempting to take their money.
"Everything's more fun when money's involved," he says of the group's interpersonal gambling ventures. "I like to play cards…play a lot of poker, play a lot of dice games." Nothing like losing next week's per diem to keep life on the road interesting.
Although such perks ward off the day-to-day pressures, the true reward for their hard work lies within their work itself, and what others gather from it.
"Well…music is the best thing for ya'; makes you forget your problems and enjoy life a little bit."
Petey continues, "When I was a kid, music inspired me or made me feel better about myself, for some reason…it's different for everybody. I've definitely met a lot of kids, they are the ones who aren't sure if they would have ever made it through high school, so definitely, it helps kids out."
The band's most recent full-length release, Live From Camp X-Ray, embodies rock 'n' roll in quick gasping breaths, a 10-track whirlwind that does its dirty business in just under a half-hour. The fact that the album was primarily recorded live to tape helps to capture the group's uproarious energy and steadfast commitment to the moment. According to Petey, the songs and performances incarcerated within Live From Camp X-Ray are noteworthy among Rocket From the Crypt's 15-year-old catalog.
"I think it rates right up there for us. I think it's a little more ass-kicking than the last couple of [albums], a little more relentless, a little more straightforward. I think it's a great album."
The unkempt fury and gritty nature of the music should be required listening for every young mall-punker and '70s ring-T wearer; living history, the boiled down, distilled essence of that long-ignored crossroads where punk stops to pick up a hitchhiking rock 'n' roll, shortly before knocking over a 24-hour liquor store. Or something like that. How does Live From Camp X-Ray manage to release such vitriol?
"The song structure, everything about the lyrics, the short songs, 10 of them, short, fast songs," Petey surmises. "It's like, before you know it, it's over."
And right before the last power chord is left to fade, the last gang vocal "whoa" readies to recede and the horn prepares to issue its capstone blast, cacophony and craziness cuts into the final track, cinching that sphincter, closing the deal. Leave 'em wanting more, right Petey?
"Uhh…you know. Just whatever."
Right.

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