You guys took a few years off between 2011’s Circuital and May’s The Waterfall. What were you up to? [Frontman] Jim [James] did a solo record that he had been working on for some time; that came out. [Drummer] Patrick [Hallahan] worked on [side project] Spanish Gold. And I worked on some music, too. Everybody just split off and took a little break. It seems like that’s our way of working now—we’ll go real intense with My Morning Jacket, and then everybody needs a little break, so we come back to it with fresh ears, eyes and minds.

I have a young child, too, so it was really a perfect time for me to take a little break. It all kind of worked out. When we reset and started working on the new record, we definitely took our time with it. A lot of times when you let the record label know you’re working on a record they expect there’s all of a sudden some date that you have to turn it in, so we purposefully pushed that question as far into the future as we could. We didn’t even think about when it was going to be released as we were working on it. That’s the first time that’s ever happened. I think that was a healthy way to approach getting back into music, and I think it reflected pretty well on the album, the way it turned out. I’m really happy with it, front to back, eight months later.

It sounds like you ended up with lots of songs to choose from. Yeah, Jim had a ton of demos that we worked through, and we actually recorded a lot of songs that aren’t on the album. Because we always have a lot of different styles or different ways of going about things, some of the records come out with a lot of variety, and this record feels like it’s very solidified stylistically. There’s still some variety on there, but by working on a bunch of songs we were able to work through the songs and get them to make sense together.

The setting for the record was the Panoramic in Northern California, which is a remote recording studio-house. Do you think that helped provide a more relaxed sonic feel? Definitely. We’re deeply affected by the environment in which we record. We’ve recorded in New York [City]; we’ve recorded out in the boonies in upstate New York; we’ve recorded in a gymnasium in Louisville. So a lot of different variety, and this one was so different. Everybody except for [keyboardist] Bo [Koster] lives in a landlocked state, so to be close to the power of the ocean … and cell phones didn’t really work and there weren’t a lot of people out there. It was nice isolation, and you’re steps from an inspiring hike at any moment.

If you wanted to take a break you could walk out to a cliff and look up and see vultures flying above you. It was just a beautiful forest and that Marin County air. We were staying in rental houses right on the beach, and we would hike up to the studio-house every morning—it would take about 40 minutes—and then at night we’d hike back. There’s way less light in Stinson than there is in Nashville, so we could see stars, maybe grab a beer and walk down the road, hang out together after we had worked on music all day. And it definitely seeped into the record. I’ll never be able to separate the views, I’ll always remember standing outside that crazy, old castle building, hearing the songs blasting out of that open door with a deer walking down the creek next to me. That’s just where we were and what we did.

MMJ is known as such a great live band. Did you road-test any of the songs before deciding which to record or which made it on the album? Nope, we didn’t, and we haven’t actually done that in a long time. We usually keep everything secret and work on it in the studio. It’s not a bad idea, though, to road-test it beforehand, but this time we hadn’t really messed around with any of the songs before we got into the studio and set all the gear up.

How important is it for you guys that the songs are able to translate to live performance? Or do you just have some songs that are too intricate to play live, so they’re studio-only cuts? It’s pretty important. One of the filters we have is, will this song translate live, or do we think it will be useful to us in the live realm? And we factor that in. But sometimes you can achieve things in the studio that you can’t on the stage, and vice versa. So it’s okay if every song isn’t a huge live hit. Sometimes at a live show it’s hard to get across something that’s obfuscated or subtle when you’re playing to a big drunk crowd or a rowdy crowd. I mean God bless ’em, we love ’em, but sometimes it’s hard and you don’t wanna play a song like “Only Memories Remain,” and everybody is just gonna talk through it.

You’re playing two nights here at Brooklyn Bowl. Will you take a different approach to the two shows? Both nights will have 100 percent different music, I can tell you that much, but we haven’t specifically planned those gigs out. It should be fun though. Vegas is a strange place to play, a strange realm, as I’m sure you know. I think since it’s two nights, some of the people who are traveling to Las Vegas that weekend will be coming specifically to see us. And you know, Vegas lends itself to some ridiculous behavior so maybe there will be some ridiculous stuff (laughs).

When did you last play Las Vegas? I think the last time was with Bright Eyes in 2011. Oh no, wait, Postal Service played Las Vegas [in 2013]. What’s funny is that the Bright Eyes show was much more memorable; no offense to the Postal Service, it’s just that we were on the roof and on the Strip and you look up [at the video marquee] and there you are, 50-feet tall, which is pretty cool It’s as Vegas as it gets (laughs).

Between 2011’s Generals and August’s Lovers Know, you did a ton of traveling all over the world. Do you think that colored the songwriting on the new album? It definitely affected it, but it’s hard to know which came first. It’s funny, one of the first things I ever put out was a solo album called Wanderlust. I self-released that on my own record label when I was living in D.C., and as I’ve gotten older I think that’s just deeply who I am as a person—there’s a lot of wanderlust, I’m an adventurous soul. Generals was very much an album about knowing, about being self-assured and feeling empowered. Then I went on The Postal Service tour, and that was just so much fun. It was like a victory lap. They were celebrating this record that they made as a side project, and the fact that it became so widely popular was kind of like icing on each of their cakes.

So when I came off that tour I felt like I was riding this high, and I got back to my home in Omaha and thought, what am I gonna do next? Then the relationship that I had been in for six years started unexpectedly dissolving, and I suddenly felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me. So I just started traveling, I didn’t know what else to do.

When you’re on a bus tour with a big band like The Postal Service, you don’t really feel the road. You kind of feel like you’ve been teleported to each city—you just wake up in the next place. So when I got off that tour I started feeling totally lost, and driving was a way to either feel more lost or to hopefully, eventually find myself.

Playing with other bands will make you rethink songs in general—melodies, the way things are put together lyrically or as far as the chords or structure goes. Being on the road influenced what I was writing, but it was kind of my need for being on the road that mostly influenced it.

Listening to the album there are recurring themes about love coming to an end, couples growing apart or even just overall regret. I really tried to write in a more open and vulnerable and honest way than I ever have before. I come from a literary background—I’ve got a degree in literature, and I love good writing. I was kind of writing as we were recording, and I would come to the producer Bradley [Hanan Carter] and say, “What do you think about these lyrics?” and he would say, “Well that’s fine, but you’re hiding behind a metaphor.” He really challenged me to say exactly what I was feeling, and that to me was really difficult because I think that some of that writing can come off as trite or just sort of dumb and I’ve shied away from that. But I think if you’re writing a record of love songs it’s really important to say exactly what you mean.

I was listening to a lot of pop songs that I’ve liked over the years, like Sinead O’Connor singing a song that Prince wrote, “Nothing Compares to You”—that song is so simple, but it says way more. It describes the scene, and just singing it over and over again— “Nothing compares to you, nothing compares to you”—can be pretty powerful.

How much of your writing is inspiration-based like that versus grounded in music composition and knowledge or proper songwriting? It’s all inspiration (laughs). I studied composition, I studied classical music and theory, but I made peace with the fact that I was a songwriter and I was never going to be a great composer when I was about 18. I remember I played at this composers’ showcase when I was in college. I played a song that I wrote that probably had six chords in it, and the chair of the department was like, “That was an interesting choice, Laura. You chose to use so few chords and perform the piece yourself.” And I thought, who am I kidding? I’m a songwriter.

I think there’s a reason why some simple three- and four-chord progressions are so popular and have stood the test of time, because it just connects with people in a really deep and meaningful way.

I try not to write in front of the piano. I write a lot driving or walking the dog. I’ll just come up with melodies, then I’ll go back and try to figure out the chords later. That way I don’t get caught up in a spot of my brain knowing what the math should be.

A little over a year ago you moved from Omaha to LA. How has the West Coast transition been for you? It’s been different. I miss Omaha so much. I have deep, deep love for the city and the people there. It’s a real gem of a place, and the people are some of the best you can meet in the world, and I can say that after having traveled all over the place.

It was weird to come to LA in the middle of winter and write an album of heartbreak in the middle of a hot-as-hell drought (laughs). It’s sunny every day! That was a really strange thing. Luckily, I have a lot of great friends here; this city attracts loads of musicians, so it feels like a new home in that sense. It’s kind of a good challenge to go to a place where there’s so much emphasis on the business of music, to kind of dip your toes in but not get swept away in it. Because I don’t do well with falsities and bullsh*t (laughs).

The first time I was here I had a really interesting experience. I came to LA when I was 18 and I swore, “I’m never going back there; that place is terrible.” Then the more you visit, you realize it’s like any other city—there are good people anywhere you go, doing interesting things; it’s just a matter of finding them. I think there’s a really great community of musicians and artists doing really great things in this city, and actually they’re very supportive of each other.

Do you think not being holed up in the cold weather for a few months will affect your songwriting? Yeah, it’s harder to get things done, because it’s really easy to say, “You know I could just go to Malibu today.” The other day a friend had a birthday and her friend has a boat. I drove up to Paradise Cove and a dingy came and picked me up and we went swimming. It’s really hard to say no to things like that (laughs). I know I should be at home working on a tour budget, but what the hell—that tour budget will still be there.

I do miss the weather in Omaha, because some of the blizzards were the best. Nobody could drive anywhere, so it’d just be the friends who could walk to your house when it’s zero degrees, and you’d just make a pot of chili and hang out and play board games. who knows (laughs).

Web Link: http://lasvegasweekly.com/ae/music/2015/sep/30/six-questions-laura-burhenn-brings-her-mynabirds-t/

It’s been about six years since you toured the States. Why such a long break? It was a break from everything, really. We toured a lot on [2009 album[ No More Stories…, and the last tour we did took us to Southeast Asia and places like that. We were a little bit spent, because we had been touring for almost two years, on and off, and we decided to have a little break before we started writing the next one because we never did that. We used to live together, too, so it was just full-on band—everything was the band. Everyone wanted to pursue other things for a while, things that we had thought about doing but never had the time to do. [Then] we played South by Southwest this year, and it was such a great experience and really made us feel like it would be great to come back. We’re super excited to come back to the States. We’re really enjoying touring these days.

You guys are obviously talented musicians, but unlike some other progressive-rock bands, your music remains accessible. How do you keep from overindulging on the technical side? We obviously enjoy some prog-rock, but I don’t like prog-rock when it becomes too virtuoso, when it’s like, “Hear how many notes I can play in a minute.” That doesn’t really connect with me in any way, that just becomes showing off and we’re not interested in that at all. We’re interested in conveying ideas, figuring out new ways of writing and expressing something that’s important to us. That is the drive we have.

Do you struggle at all to re-create the produced music live? I don’t think we do. It’s definitely different, because we can’t layer as many things. But on this record, our producer, Michael Beinhorn, was quite adamant that we make the songs work just in the practice space, and we did that in pre-production. We didn’t jam them out; they were written with different styling points, so it was important to him. Also, we had just gotten [bassist] Johan [Wohlert] back in the band—we had the rhythm section back to the original—and he wanted to explore that as much as possible in the music. We really tried to make it a band album, to make it sound like a band playing, and I think we succeed quite well. I don’t think it is that different when we play live. It’s obviously a bit more raw, but it’s not like a totally different kind of scenario.

Do you have to choose which instruments are going to be performed live? We have to do that all the time. And also, we can’t do as many harmonies as on the album but we seem to be quite good at getting around it in ways. Nick [Watts] our keyboard player who we’ve played with for many years, he is very busy when we play live; he does a lot of stuff—backing vocals, guitar and a lot of synths and chords and little counter-melodies—and sometimes he’ll play one of the harmonies on the piano instead of singing it. It kind of comes together in the same way, just slightly different.

Did it take you guys a while in the early days to really be satisfied with your live sound? When we first started out, I think we were just very excited to be able to make a lot of noise (laughs). It was more about playing really loud and having the amps cranked up.

When we first started the band we already were friends, and we were doing stuff together creatively, but the idea of forming a band came about when this whole wave of bands like Nirvana came out, which led us to discover Dinosaur Jr, My Bloody Valentine, Sonic Youth and stuff like that, which was more like alternative-rock music. Before that time, we had grown up with ’80s pop music, so I think we started out maybe slightly mimicking some of the bands we liked at the time, and ever so slowly our own kind of unique weirdness crept into the mix. I think when we did [2003’s]Frengers album, that’s when we really started thinking about sonics and how to convey it live. Before that we were too caught up in different things to even think about that. Back then, you just played small gigs, small venues, and you didn’t have your own sound guy, so whoever was there just had to make sense of it.

Mew has been a band since 1994, so more than 20 years. What’s left to accomplish musically? I think it’s about trying to make the most natural album you can, where it just feels completely unhindered in a way. There are always passages you just work too much on. We love working out all the details, but the really magical moments are the ones that come about where you don’t have any idea where they come from—you just grab it out of the air. If we could make an entire album like that, that would be the goal. I don’t know if it will ever happen. I think there is always going to be some hindrance to reach that point.

How important is it to you as a songwriter to blaze new musical trails? It’s very important. I think if you reach a state where you say, “We’ve figured it out; we should just keep doing this,” then it’s kind of just repeating yourself or planting the flag and saying, “This is as far as we’ll be exploring in the world of music.”

I think it’s important to us that it can’t be too easy for us. We have to keep challenging ourselves in terms of where we can take the songs and where we can take music and trying something new every time. I don’t really understand bands that just aspire to sound like The Rolling Stones or whoever. The Rolling Stones already did it. It’s not that you have to reinvent music entirely, but if you can contribute something new, that is what any band should aspire to do.

What is the current music scene like in Scandinavia? It’s pretty interesting. It’s grown so much in the time I’ve been alive. When we started out as a band there were a lot of interesting things going on, but it was so hidden in the underground, because the bands who got signed were signed by people who didn’t really understand what they were doing. They would sign bands that sounded like something that happened in the U.K. four years before, so it was very derivative of the U.K. scene.

Now, it feels like bands really dare to be themselves and maintain their own uniqueness. When we started out it was kind of unheard of for a Danish band to even tour in America. We didn’t have like what they have in Sweden, a long history of successful international bands. We never had ABBA or anything like that, so the music scene was little bit weak. But I think it is just so much better now—a lot of great bands coming out of Denmark and Scandinavia as a whole.

Weblink: http://lasvegasweekly.com/ae/music/2015/sep/16/the-weekly-interview-mew-vocalist-jonas-bjerre/

Your songs can be very different live—more jammy, and sometimes a little heavier. Yeah, we’ve always made a concerted effort to extend certain sections and give songs another element live that we don’t necessarily have on the records.

Is that why you recorded the most recent record (June’s All Your Favorite Bands) almost entirely live? Yeah, it has always been a struggle for us to put on the record what we do live, and we’ve always felt that we are at our best as a band in the live setting. The mentality was, let’s go make it sound as live as we can and capture that energy in the studio. That’s how [producer] Dave [Rawlings] records all of his music. We were all facing each other, and we tried creating that vibe that you get onstage. And it seemed to work out.

You also road-tested the songs, right? How did getting to see audience reactions affect the final outcome? There were certain sections that just weren’t hitting live, so we would structure them differently, like the bridge would come after the second chorus as opposed to after the solo, something like that. That kind of experience is invaluable. Even with countless hours of rehearsal, you can’t get what you get playing the song in front of an audience in one show.

Is there a particular song you think really benefitted from that? “Right on Time” definitely came together in that particular way. It became more driving. All of them really benefitted, though.

A lyric from the title track stood out for me: “May all your favorite bands stay together.” Where did that idea come from? [Frontman] Taylor [Goldsmith] had that line for a long time—he was actually singing the chorus for a long time and didn’t know what to do with it. The song was written for a friend, a younger person who was kind of finding their way, this was like a good-tidings-to-you sentiment. Despite what you may experience, how traumatic certain things can be, try to hold onto that element that makes you youthful. If you really unpack it, it’s somebody who’s graduated from adolescence.

Dawes’ lyrics remind me of signature LA artists like Jackson Browne, The Eagles and Tom Petty. Is that the music you and Taylor were raised on growing up in Southern California? We were more raised on soul and Steely Dan, and Bob Dylan to a certain extent. We didn’t really start getting into that stuff until people started making the comparisons. It makes sense, I guess, but when we released our first record that was a common criticism or a common comparison, but I didn’t listen to a Jackson Browne record until I was like 19. I had heard some of his songs, but I didn’t dig deeper into his catalog until we were given the opportunity to meet him and hang out with him. I didn’t develop an affinity for Joni Mitchell or The Eagles until later as well, and I know the same goes for Taylor.

Maybe it has something to do with being raised in LA and the commonality that we all experience as Angelenos. For any artist, where you come from influences your tastes and forms your decisions and aesthetic values. LA is a giant city, yet there’s a certain closeness, and it definitely cultivates a certain type of lifestyle.

Your musical style brushes up against a lot of genres. I’ve seen you on bills that were bluegrass, alt-country, rock, folk. How would you describe it to someone who hasn’t heard you? I usually just go with rock ’n’ roll, but I can see why somebody might want to call it Americana or folk or indie rock. It’s tough for me to say objectively it’s this or that—it’s whatever the listener makes it. But I’m happy we do brush up against all these different genres, because it’s given me opportunity to play with a lot of artists that are very different from one another.

Web link: http://lasvegasweekly.com/ae/music/2015/aug/06/weekly-interview-dawes-drummer-griffin-goldsmith/

In the wake of the Bunkhouse’s sudden closing on Monday, Sunday’s show has been moved to Backstage Bar & Billiards.

What’s life like for a metal band at your level in 2015? It’s an interesting place to be. You have to put in a lot of hard work, and you definitely have to put in the miles—you have to go on tour and bust your ass writing stuff. … Some bands get lucky, I’m not gonna lie, but I feel if you put in the work, put in the time, you can make a living. We have for some time now.

What sort of goals do you guys have now, having recently released your fourth full-length? To stay on our upward trajectory. The records get better, and as musicians we get better. There’s a certain routine aspect to being in a band, and if we’re off for a very long time we miss it, like certain breeds of dogs—you need to take them out, they need to be walked. I think at a very basic level we’ve been conditioned, like, “Man, I want to get on a stage, I want to play, I want to turn my amp up, I wanna see my friends in other states and visit places.” They’re kind of like work vacations.

New album Restarter sounds like a return to an earlier musical style for Torche. Do you agree? I think it sounds taken back to [2007’s] In Return stuff, heavier and more direct, but I feel like it’s also very current to where we want to be as far as the energy. It’s very true to our live sound.

Did [previous album] Harmonicraft ruffle your fans’ feathers? We tend to do new things and keep ourselves entertained. We have our sound and our identity, but it allows us to revisit or explore an aspect of our sound as opposed to doing the same thing over and over. It’s very liberating and freeing and keeps it very exciting to us to not have limitations on our sound. I feel like Harmonicraft was more sonically tight and energetic in vibe and tone. It was upbeat rock and roll.

It’s been a decade since you released your first album. How has the writing process evolved over those 10 years? We’ve kept the same setup, as far as writing rather quickly, because we’re usually in a time crunch. We have members who live across Florida, and we really have to take advantage of the time we have together. So it’s always really long days, and we usually demo stuff and hear it the next day in order to really let it digest. I feel that over time we’ve really developed a way of working quickly and efficiently both in writing and recording live in the studio. You’re going to have those instances where you hit a wall, so to speak, but I feel that we always work around it together.

One thing I think spans all your records is the band’s pop sensibility, which is notable for a metal band. We all grew up with pop music or even rock and metal stuff that was catchy, that was about the songs. It was all sorts of custom melodies and hooks but that doesn’t mean you can’t get heavy. There’s so much you can do while still keeping it memorable, and that’s something that attracts us.

And except for a few outliers, your songs are usually pretty short, too. Is that intentional? Honestly, we try to let the music come together on its own. It’s very basic songwriting at first, and we very much let it roll. Its not in us to sit there and say, “Okay, for this song we want a super heavy Ramones-type part that goes into this shoegazey wash part that goes back around and does this Sabbath thing.” For us it’s like, “Hey man, here’s a riff.” And if people like it then we’ll jam with it. A lot of the stuff is done on the spot, and some of the stuff gets down to the wire.

Web link: http://lasvegasweekly.com/ae/music/2015/jul/22/weekly-interview-torche-bassist-jonathan-nunez/

Over 20 years, a handful of records and countless shows, no act has come to embody the Vegas punk scene quite like The Vermin. But nothing good can last forever, and the band’s hilarious, offensive and always-entertaining run ends July 3 with a final performance that shares its name with the release of a new retrospective album, The Vermin Must Die. Singer/guitarist Dirk Vermin, bassist Rob Ruckus and drummer Gerry “Turbo” Proctor look back on two memorably drunken decades in the desert.

THE SHOWS

Turbo: “You grow up listening to Ill Repute, and next thing you know you’re playing with them or Doctor Know or Youth Brigade, or any number of great punk bands from back in the day. … We even got to play with Sylvain Sylvain from The New York Dolls.”

Ruckus: “The first Las Vegas Shakedown at the Orleans—we played with everyone from The Dictators to Guitar Wolf and Wayne Kramer from MC5, an absolutely amazing lineup of bands. All the New York shows, the last LA show we did with Adolescents and 7 Seconds and Channel 3. All the shows with TSOL and Agent Orange.”

Vermin: “Opening for TSOL, as drunk as I’ve ever been onstage. Turbo had to tune my guitar, and it didn’t help. We got to open for Fear twice. One show I remember we were great; the other show I do not.”

THE MOMENTS

Ruckus: “Getting to play for Timothy Leary, who came to see us at the Double Down right before he died. We sat and talked for a few minutes, and then I went on. He lasted about four songs, came up, hugged me and said, “You guys are very entertaining, but you are very loud and I must now leave.”

Turbo: “One show where Ruckus threw his bass at me from the back of the bar at the Double Down. It was spiraling toward my head, and then it did this weird Bruce Lee thing and went sideways and landed perfectly on his amp and my drum head. It was, like, bionically weird, and everyone at the bar was like, “Whoooaaaa!”

Vermin: “At one time we did a weekly gig at the Wet Stop—that’s where we honed our chops and got our stage shtick down. For a weekly show you have to stay on your toes, and the three of us have big mouths, never at a loss for words. But it was tough; it was Wednesday night. I don’t miss it at all.”

Ruckus: There were times at Calamity Jayne’s where I used to do this thing called the beer fountain, where I’d put a full can of beer in my mouth and blow, and it would make 12-foot fountains on each side. I did this one night, and there happened to be a local motorcycle gang up front, and I doused them. One of them jumps onstage and puts a knife to my throat. I finished the song and handed him a shot of whiskey as an apology, and then the guy took the knife from my throat.”

HOME BASE

Vermin: “Double Down. I mean, that’s home. I never feel more comfortable onstage than when we’re at the Double Down.”

Ruckus: “There were so many drunken nights there where just anything would happen. Usually, I would end up naked by the end of the night. Until we got the TV show [Bad Ink], every single show I would end up naked by the end. Then we went on TV, and I was told I couldn’t do it. Now that I’m not on that channel, I can do it again for the last show (laughs).”

THE LEGACY

Turbo: “When there wasn’t a scene in Vegas, The Vermin was the scene. Bands would come, and bands would go. And who’s still standing? The Vermin. But we’ve got all these great bands and a scene that’s thriving now.”

Vermin: “Obnoxious. Your mother hated us, and your sister wanted to f*ck us (laughs). Something like that. We were just that punk band. When other bands would play with us, if we didn’t pick on them they felt like they hadn’t arrived.”

Turbo: “We were the band where punk rock meets pro wrestling. We were the punk-rock Rat Pack, and we had that title for a really long time.”

Web link: http://lasvegasweekly.com/ae/music/2015/jul/01/final-gig-vermin-looks-back-two-decades-vegas-punk/

Tell me how your new Archive box came together. As our silver anniversary was approaching, we realized there was an opportunity to commemorate it with something special. We’ve always had a lot of odds and ends—B-sides and demos and alternate versions—in the vault, so we got it together and put out a box set. Chad [Sexton], our drummer, is really the band archivist—he’s got a big closet full of tapes and hard drives, down to reel to reel format where it’s hard to even find something to play them on. We got it all together and remastered everything to make it as even as possible. I hadn’t heard a lot of those songs in a long time, so it was really cool to spark those recessed neurons. I think it’s gonna be a real trip for our fans.

Was the rest of the band involved in picking the songs? We really let Chad lead, because he had always taken the time to keep track of everything. One interesting story about him is that there was a wildfire out by his house, and this wall of flame was coming toward his property. The first thing he did was load up his truck with boxes of hard drives and tapes and everything. The fire was extinguished before it got to him, but that was the first thing he saved, because it’s irreplaceable.

Is there a certain track you’re really excited for people to hear? There’s a song called “Strong All Along” off our Soundsystem album. An early version of that was called “Pass the Grass,” and it had different lyrics and a really far-out creativity. It was a demo that I made when I guess I was in a really weird mood, and a lot of it got changed for the final version. But for people that have lived with this song for about 17 years now as “Strong All Along,” I think the skeleton of it with different words will be a trip.

There’s a lot of examples like that, where songs really transform from the demo version to the album version. It’s like looking at a family photo album and thinking, “Wow, did I ever look like that?” My favorite band of all time was The Clash, and I loved finding their early demos and bootlegs and stuff like that, but it was a lot work. We’re making it easy on our fans, so they don’t have to dig.

As you celebrate 25 years as a band, what do you remember most about the early years as a band? There was one year where we put all our meager possessions into a storage unit and just lived on the road. We were doing hundreds of shows a year and also still somehow managed to make the [self-titled] “Blue Album” that year. Plus a lot of wild parties to celebrate the momentum we were gaining.

Now that you’re independent again, do you feel more or less pressure? I think the turning point came back in 2000, where we realized we’re a touring band, more like jam bands, because playing live music is something that you can’t fake and it’s something that we enjoy so much. We work the albums around touring. At that point it took the pressure off making albums because we realized we’ve got such a bedrock of a fanbase, it’s not make or break that we have a hit or anything like that.

Anything special planned for your July 3 and 4 shows at Mandalay Bay Beach?It’s the 20-year anniversary of our “Blue Album,” so we’re playing that album in its entirety. And we have a bunch of other surprises planned over two nights. That’s just a fun place to see a show. The first time we played there, it took us a few minutes to get used to such an unusual setting, to have a stage surrounded by water and people on the beach and in and out of the water, but the show we had there last year was fantastic, so we thought, let’s make this a tradition but also make it a special night with the 20th anniversary of our self-titled album.

Are those the only shows where you’re playing the full “Blue Album” on this tour? Yeah. I think we did that back in 2003, but this will be the first time since then. It’s a way to give people something special. When we were on the [Carribean] cruise, we did Soundsystem in its entirety, which was a very Jamaican-influenced record, so that was appropriate. This is more of a party album so it might as well be in Vegas.

I was 10 when that record came out, and I remember the picture of you guys with the alien eyes, the ridiculous conspiracies about your band name and hearing the combination of rap and rock for the first time. What was it like developing that sound back then? I guess we came up in the time of grunge, where everything on the radio was just rock. I mean, it was cool rock, but we needed more twists and turns. Growing up in Omaha, we were geographically in the middle of a lot of things between reggae from Jamaica and punk rock from LA and New York, hearing Bad Brains from D.C. and the Chili Peppers from LA. And of course, alternative was still alternative at the time.

We were just all over the place, and we insisted that we were going to break the mold of being in one certain lane. We had this eclectic, anything-goes attitude, and we needed our rock to be funkier than what was on the radio at the time. So we decided we were gonna do what we do, just playing shows and waiting for the culture to come around to us. And that’s what happened, through “All Mixed Up” and “Down” and songs on the “Blue Album” that blew up to a wider audience. It wasn’t that some radio station or MTV really championed us; it was because there was such a groundswell of excitement from the shows we were doing that they demanded it. It was cool to kick the door open and not be invited in.

Web link: http://lasvegasweekly.com/ae/music/2015/jul/01/weekly-interview-311-frontman-nick-hexum/