“I’m not gonna bring my wheelchair or my walker up there — I’m goin’ for it,” taunts Lagwagon singer Joey Cape. Set to tour Canada in support of the band’s latest Fat Wreck Chords release, I Think My Older Brother Used to Listen to Lagwagon, Cape is feeling particularly self-deprecating.
It’s a state of mind Cape and crew (guitarists Chris Rest and Chris Flippin, bassist Jesse Buglione and drummer Dave Raun) have been experiencing a lot lately. Surviving the tumultuous world of independent music and the drop in media support for their brand of upbeat, Southern California pop-punk over the past half-decade hasn’t been easy. Despite continually selling out shows internationally, Lagwagon routinely encounter agonizing doses of reality on their travels, going so far as to utilize the most painful one as an album title.
“The EP title is a gag, but really, it’s more of an homage to bands that have been around for a long time,” he explains. “When you’ve been around for as many years as us, you know that comment first-hand. You stop at a gas station and hear, ‘Are you guys in a band?’ When you tell them the name, that’s what you hear: ‘I think my older brother used to listen to you guys in high school.’ Sometimes it’s worse, though: ‘Yeah, you guys! I had that record you made,’ and they name your first or second record as if it’s the only one you’ve ever made. ‘Oh, you’re back?’ Yeah... and we’ve made nine records since that, man.”
While Cape’s comments seem discouraging, for the most part they are in jest, related with the modesty of maturity. A few fleeting encounters with fickle rest-stop patrons aside, he admits that were it not for the validation of enthusiastic fans, Lagwagon wouldn’t even be able to tour or record. He notes that the band prefers to exploit such groan-inducing moments as fodder to maintain a down-to-earth attitude.
“When stuff like that happens, you look at the big picture — [you] remember how fortunate you are to even do this, to be around as long as we have been and have made as many records as we have,” he says. “The majority of people that like our band know us and our records. We’re plenty lucky. That’s just one part of it that’s funny for us, and it’s getting to be more common. We’ve never had a big ‘overnight sensation’ part of our career. When you don’t have that, you get a lot of that sort of thing. The benefits still outweigh that, though.”
Cape’s knack for maintaining humility about being a “used to band” is admirable, as exemplified by Lagwagon’s consistent musical output to this day. Still, even he must admit that some aspects of band life just aren’t what they used to be. Twenty years of fronting a punk rock band are finally taking their toll, and Cape feels his age, observing a transition in Lagwagon’s live show as of late.
“We’re not nearly as good as we used to be,” he laughs. “That’s the downside of being a band as long as us, playing the same venues you did 16 years ago. It’s the same packed club but you look out and realize there are faces there that were at your show back in ’92... but you’re not on-par with that ’92 show. You’re not kids anymore. Kids have more energy. There’s certainly a maturity aspect that comes into play, like having more soul or better chemistry and things we’re better at, but I’m 41. I’m not gonna pretend. I can’t do the things I did when I was 20. There’s an element of that, but the good news is we recognize it and we’re humble. As long as you have those things, you’re all right.”
