Oi Wonder

At the center of this punk-rock juggernaut is Tim Armstrong. He writes most of the songs, and it's his voice that is most associated with Rancid's defiant sneer. Despite the fearsome antisocial stance he affects in photographs, he is also the most retiring, soft-spoken group member. Guitar School talked to Armstrong while he was busy dying his signature mohawk a vibrant shade of blue.

GS: Let's talk about you as a guitar player--a subject most journalists seldom address when interviewing you.

T: You're right. I'd love to do that. It seems like everybody else wants to know about the politics of the band, major labels and me being a recovering drunk.

GS: What inspired you to start playing?

T: As a kid, all my heroes were guitar players. Picking up the guitar just seemed like the most natural thing to do. My first guitar hero was Angus Young, then when I got older it was Joe Strummer and Johnny Ramone. I saw AC/DC play live when I was 13, and it was the most amazing f*cking concert I'd ever seen! I don't like 'em much anymore--I mean, they're okay, but when I was 13, they were the s*it!

GS: At least from a guitar perspective, AC/DC still has it.

T: Yeah, they still rage, and Malcolm's a f*cking genius. Both those guys, Angus and Malcolm. I love to listen to that "Powerage" record, how they play off one another.

GS: That's certainly something you've developed with Lars over the last two records.

T: That's because Lars and I practice all the time together. We'll jam for two hours a day, no problem. I'm sure Angus and Malcolm did that for years, too. You have to talk the same language, and that comes from lots of practice. I have that with Matt, too, because we've played together for so long. When you spend so much time jamming with somebody, it becomes natural.

GS: There's a real ska flavor to a lot of the songs on "...And Out Come the Wolves." What's your continuing attraction to ska?

T: It's exciting, such a great rhythm.

GS: Do you consider yourself more of a rhythm guitarist?

T: Hell, yeah. I loved Angus Young, like I said, but I always loved Malcolm, too. I remember watching him keep the band together--and you could tell that he was turned up a little louder than Angus. He was like a rock, and I really admired that. But the ska thing is a total rhythm guitar move. It may be simple, but it takes a lot of patience to get into a groove like that.

GS: So what's the secret behind playing ska?

T: It's got to be minimalist. Some people try to play ska and they put too much into it. You have to just keep it f*cking roots, get a groove and stay with it and don't go jacking off like some metal dude. A lot of these guys play ska like a heavy metal guitar player, playing songs with 28 chords and all these f*cking changes that aren't even ska. It's like Primas ska--weird s*it. If you want to play ska and have it be effective, it's got to be roots, with a minimal amount of chords.

GS: People always seem to confuse ska and reggae.

T: Yeah, it's a different thing. Ska is a lot faster and it's not on the downbeat like reggae--ska is on the upbeat. I'm not a trained musician but I could show you on my guitar. Ska is on the two or the four, it's a very different rhythm.

GS: How does that work technically? Is it a different strum?

T: It's very staccato. You've got to really work your fretting hand--you control most of the rhythm that way. You don't necessarily need to mute with the palm of your strumming hand, it's really all happening up at the fretboard.

GS: Is there any type of guitar that readily lends itself to that?

T: My hollow-body Hagstrom is effective, but the guitar I love to play and record ska with is a Strat with two single-coil pickups. You get a really full sound when you get them both going at the same time. It gives it a punchy sound that's not too trebly and not too bassy. You don't need a lot of distortion because it's all punch, and that's what you want the ska guitar to do. You don't want to be too piercing with the high end--you want to feel it in your chest. You want to feel it like a percussion instrument. In general, for punk rock, it's better to use humbuckers.

GS: Ska does resemble punk in its simplicity and lack of leads.

T: Absolutely! If you check out the chord structure of a Specials song, a Ramones song, and a Clash song, you'll see that they're all really similar. It's all rooted in Fifties rock.

GS: What was it that eventually made you decide to bring in a second guitarist?

T: We had Billie Joe come jam with us, because I had all these guitar riffs in my head. It was rad. We did a show with D.O.A. at Gilman Street with Billie Joe on guitar; it was amazing because that kid plays hard. He's a great performer. We knew we needed another guitar player right then and there, but Billie couldn't join Rancid because he was busy with Green Day. When I met Lars, I just knew he was the one. He's a great guitar player. He's got a feel and he's totally well-rounded.

GS: Lars joining the band must have allowed you to focus more on playing rhythm.

T: Yeah, I love it. It really loosened things up and made us a hell of a better band.

GS: What advice do you have for people who want to learn to play rhythm?

T: You've got to be patient and get in a groove. I play a hollow-body Hagstrom with DiMarzio pickups for the punk rock stuff. It's really noisy and sonic. It's really brutal and hostile--I don't know anybody who has that sound. I plug straight into 100-watt Marshalls, so it's straight ahead. That's all you need, I never use any effects--a good guitar player doesn't need any crazy f*cking s*it.

GS: Lars says he learned everything he knows about playing guitar from you. Is that true?

T: That's really nice of him to say. I think I spend more time on it than any of them. I'm always playing. I have my guitar with me all the time. I have an acoustic '62 Fender--it's my baby. I wrote a lot of punk rock songs on acoustic guitar, but personally I'd rather be plugged into a Marshall for five hours a day--that's my favorite sound.

GS: Do you remember your first band?

T: My first band was a hardcore band called C.O.D. which played Black Flag-type straight-ahead punk rock. I couldn't play very well at the time, but I could play barre chords really fast. Then Matt and I hooked up and played together in a string of ska and punk bands. That was after I saw a band called the Uptones play in '82. They were these mod ska kids from Berkeley High who had this total punk rock attitude. On stage, the singer was going, "F*ck Bill Graham! We ain't going out like that s*it!" They were becoming this big club band and they were dissing the biggest promoter in the history of rock and roll! It was cool as s*it. They played hard and all these kids just freaked out and jumped around.

GS: Let's talk about the formation of Operation Ivy in 1987.

T: None of the bands Matt and I were getting together were really happening. There was no place for us to play. It was lame and depressing. Then a club called Gilman Street opened up on December 31, 1986, and we were there. A band called Soup played, and from that night on my life changed and I've never been the same. I had a place to go, I was involved in a scene. I'd been to a lot of shows and I'd played music, but up to then it had never really gone anywhere. I'd never done any serious recording, not even a demo or anything. We formed Op Ivy in March and just played the hell out of Gilman. A couple of months later we got to record for the first time for the Maximumrocknroll compilation "Turn it Around," which had all those early Gilman Street bands on it. It was a double seven-inch with Crimpshrine, Isocracy, Mr. T Experience, Corrupted Morals and a bunch of other bands. Maximumrocknroll paid for all of us to go into a studio in West Oakland and record. It was the first time for me in a real studio! Kevin Army, who engineered, later produced our first full-length album. It was amazing! Then four months later, Lawrence Livermore started Lookout! Records and put out singles by Crimpshrine, Isocracy, Corrupted Morals and Op Ivy. They pressed a thousand of those apiece. We were like, "A thousand? Who's going to buy them?" It was beautiful.

GS: Didn't Op Ivy become one of the most popular bands at Gilman Street? T: I think we were the most popular. We sold the place out; and nobody else was doing that. Gilman Street is supposed to hold 300, and at our last show we drew 625 people. It was really strange. In retrospect, with Green Day's success, it's like, "Big deal!" But at the time, it was uncharted territory. We were the first band to break out and tour.

GS: Why did Op Ivy ultimately break up?

T: The success was confusing. I had been in all those bands with Matt and I'd played bass in Crimpshrine in '86. I was part of this scene with all of these bands--just like one big family--and the next thing I knew, people started feeling alienated from us. I know it sounds cheesy, but going to that place every day and hanging out with all those people saved my life. When we got really popular, some people started copping an attitude. I'd say, "Yo, I just want to be part of the scene, I don't care about being in this huge band." It didn't matter, s*it just wasn't the same. It bummed us all out--we didn't want to be that popular.

GS: Even today, in the underground punk scene, once a band gets popular, people often call them sell-outs.

T: Especially in the East Bay scene. It's amazing. I still don't understand it. We've sold a lot of records and a lot of them to people who aren't punk rockers, so we aren't part of that scene anymore. But at the same time, I hated it when bands like Stiff Little Fingers said, "We are not punk rockers and we don't play punk anymore." I was like, "F*ck you, guys! What's wrong with you? Why are you being crazy?" I don't ever want to come out like that. I'm not bitter, but...

GS: What was it that inspired you to form Rancid?

T: I was out of it for almost three years. I was 25 years old and living in Salvation Army homeless shelter, and I went to Matt and said, "Let's start a band." I told him I wasn't going to drink anymore. I don't know if he believed me, but he loved me and knew I needed some hope. I was pretty f*cked up. It was sad, but like the best friend he is, he helped me start up this little band with Brett Reed, who could barely play drums. Dave Mello couldn't play drums either when we started Op Ivy, but Matt's a genius musician and he teaches these kids how to use the kick drum. We started at the bottom, didn't give a f*ck about anything and started playing crazy punk rock parties.

GS: What made you decide to form a strictly punk band and not do any ska for the first two records?

T: Your first year after you get sober, you're pretty f*cking angry, crazy and pissed. Listen to those early records and you will hear my early years of sobriety. Hearing myself say all this makes me feel bad, it sounds like something out of "Sober Rockers Kick Ass with Aerosmith." But it's interesting to listen to all three records together and realize that I'm slowly getting sober in front of the whole planet.

GS: The first Rancid album is really angry; full of images of what i'ts really like to be down and out.

T: The memories were so fresh. When I wrote the record, I didn't know if I was going to make it. I didn't know what was going to happen, I didn't know anything. That was way before Offspring took off and Epitaph Records wasn't even that big. I just wanted to make that record because that was how I felt. I was being really honest--but all of our records are like that. I won't have it any other way.

GS: There's quite a few Oi! songs on the new album.

T: Lars is the Oi! specialist. Oi! is the Brititsh working class stuff about the labor movement and all that s*it. Musically, it's all about these huge choruses. Take a look at the big sing-along choruses in "Avenues and Alleyways." --it's totally stock Oi! We wanted to write the most Oi! song we could possibly write.

GS: Does the title "...And Out Come the Wolves" refer to all the major labels that wanted to sign Rancid?

T: We just sometimes felt that wolves were out to get us. But the whole year had been crazy, not only with the major labels trying to sign us, but with everything else. When Brett Gurewitz heard that line, he started to cry. He was just overwhelmed.

GS: Did you try anthing new with the record?

T: For Rancid, it's a giant step; it's a departure. We've settled down into a more mid-tempo groove. I think the songs are more sophisticated, but that sounds pretentious. We were getting so good at playing together. It's our best record so far. The bass and drums are tight, but I really love the lyrics, the songs are the best we have ever done. We got to spend some time on it and make it the way we wanted it.

GS: What is your songwriting process like?

T: I write all the time. I'm always playing guitar--at least, five hours a day. I come up with riffs, progressions. On the side, I'm always writing poetry. So I have a stockpile of riffs and when I go looking through my little notebook, a song is born. Or sometimes I'll be jamming and a lyric will just come to my brain; that happens a lot. I don't even try, it just happens. I love that, I love putting together songs. Dude, that's my favorite thing, putting it together like a mad scientist.

GS: A lot of people compare Rancid's music to the Clash.

T: I think that's ridiculous. The Clash never had songs like "Maxwell Murder" or a rapid-fire, straight-ahead ska song like "Time Bomb." They played reggae. Anyway, I've been playing this music for 10 years and that's a lot longer than the Clash.

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