When Brooklyn’s Obits made its debut appearance, it tried testing the waters with a scarcely advertised show. Instead of a half-empty hall, the band found itself face-to-face with a genre-savvy crowd eagerly expecting the next great thing from Obits lead vocalist-guitarist Rick Froberg. Also known as Rick Fork and Rick Farr, Froberg has risen to his somewhat-legendary status thanks to his membership in iconic indie-rock outfits Pitchfork, Drive Like Jehu and Hot Snakes. Combining his considerable creative drive with that of fellow guitarist-vocalist Sohrab Habibion (Edsel), Froberg presented the rapt audience with a new spin on the tried-and-true rock ’n’ roll formula. His return to form alongside Habibion, bassist Greg Simpson and drummer Scott Gursky was captured by an audience member, who posted the concert online. Shrugging off the audacity of this act, the band returned the favour by reclaiming two of the bootlegged songs for their MySpace page.

“I think somebody may have asked for permission at some point, but it doesn’t really matter to us anyways,” Froberg says of the incident. “People are going to do it anyways and there’s nothing you can do about it. I wouldn’t freak out if I saw a camera or recorder in the audience. I think technology cuts both ways, so you might as well take advantage of it. Bands don’t make their money from records anymore, so the only way you can support yourself is to play and sell T-shirts and anything else that can’t be digitally reproduced. Besides, the quality of bootlegs is awful. I’d rather have the LP with the big format artwork than some compressed MP3.”

Froberg was determined to deliver the real goods when he set upon recording his first studio album in five years. A blend of old-school surf grooves and sharp-angled punk rock gusto, Obits’ incendiary Sub Pop debut, I Blame You, is at once indefinable and irresistible. Froberg, who plies his trade as a graphic designer when he’s not making music, takes particular pride the album’s eye-catching, retro-chic cover art.

“I don’t like things that are neutral in the wrong way,” he says. “I never touch Helvetica. It doesn’t have any real bent to it, it says nothing and people are sick of the stuff. It’s run its course. It’s the same with music — I like to take the older rock ’n’ roll sound and change it up. Even if it’s not done well, it’s worth the attempt. We’d rather fuck around and take it as it comes out of the ether than superimpose some sort of structure onto things.”

Making great music and art just for the heck of it is Froberg’s greatest reward, as the veteran has developed a decidedly pragmatic approach to balancing creativity with sustainability. Living on the East Coast after a Californian upbringing has given him insights into the American music industry and pushed him in new directions, steeling his resolve to retain his integrity as a career musician and his peace of mind as a forward-thinking artist.

“Naturally, I wanna make money and run a sustainable band, but one thing I’ve learned about making music for a living is that you either have to love it or be compelled to do it,” Froberg says. “I knew going into Obits that I wasn’t going to love every minute of it, but sometimes you have to choose discipline over inspiration. Even in the world of crappy punk rock.”