It's been well over a decade and a half since the mirthful miscreants calling themselves the Supersuckers packed up their gear and left the dusty suburbia of Tucson, Ariz., for Seattle, Wash., completely unaware they were headed toward a music scene that would capture the world's attention in a year and a half or so.
They've done a lot since then.
They've recorded four full-length albums of smart, sarcastic, revved-up rock 'n' roll, and one of reverent (but equally sarcastic) country, for the legendary Seattle label Sub Pop; they've also released material on Koch and Music Cartel. They played Farm Aid — twice — and backed Willie Nelson on The Tonight Show. They've toured the U.S. so much and so often that they could probably still make out the tire tracks from their last trip each time they hit the road. They collaborated with C&W insurgent Steve Earle. They played most of Europe's biggest festivals.
And they almost single-handedly made underground rock fun, by introducing a tongue-in-cheek caricature of arena-metal hyperbole that's influenced every hip subculture to come along since.
About the only thing the Supersuckers haven't done yet is become the bloated, self-indulgent hard-rock stars they loved as kids, and mock so perfectly as adults.
"I guess we're bummed that we're still playing the same crappy clubs we first started playing in," says singer/bassist Eddie Spaghetti with a laugh. "But it could be worse."
It certainly could be. The Supersuckers might not be a household name (and yes, it's porno-derived), but those who know it are committed to a startling degree; the band boasts the most loyal fanbase this side of a British football club. There are 20,000 members in the official fan club, and those aren't kids likely to move on to another scene next year.
It's a safe bet that all of them own everything the group has ever put out, from the current slew of self-released live albums to Spaghetti's solo discs to that black T-shirt with the red logo that you've seen at every show you've attended since the inaugural Warped Tour in '94.
"We've been tremendously lucky, I think," Spaghetti says. "And it's a testimony to the consistency and quality of what we've put out. People get sick of listening to 'Back in Black' over and over. They need some other rock."
This stable, dependable community is at least partly responsible for the band's current successful status as a self-sustaining entity. In 2001, frustrated with the label-hopping and lack of support they'd lately endured, the 'suckers formed their own label, Mid-Fi Recordings. (In typically subversive fashion, they convinced the major-label rep courting them at the time to quit his job and come help them run it.)
Since becoming truly independent, the group has released one full-length of original material, '03's Motherfuckers Be Trippin'; Spaghetti's two covers-and-originals solo efforts The Sauce and Old No. 2; and a series of in-concert offerings on their specialized imprint arm, Mid-Fi Field Recordings.
The Supersuckers have always shown a surprisingly strong work ethic for guys who play fast, simple songs about getting away with as much as possible with as little effort as needed. They just started focusing a portion of that energy on the business aspect of the band. Not that it's been simple — Spaghetti admits there were elements of running a record label they hadn't considered when they decided to give it a go.
"Well, yeah, and it sort of coincided with the use of the Internet in a big way," he says. "There were things that you couldn't have foreseen doing. Like sending an e-mail out directly to your fans. I never thought of myself as a guy who would write, and write to the fans, but that's something that's important to do. You find yourself making up jobs for yourself that didn't exist."
He adds that "it's hard fuckin' work, but it's going strong." Strong enough that the first batch of new 'suckers material in three years will see the light of day next month in the form of the six-song EP Paid, and the outfit is considering adding another band or two to the Mid-Fi roster.
"We keep threatening to do that," Spaghetti allows. "We haven't found just the right sort of artist. We're really leery of being another label that disappoints [the bands it signs]. We're going to make mistakes, and we're trying to make all the mistakes on ourselves first."
But Spaghetti, guitarists Dan Bolton and Rontrose Heathman and drummer Dancing Eagle aren't anywhere near ready to hang up their instruments in favor of guiding others' careers. The Supersuckers are currently in the midst of a brief tour bearing the name of Springsteen sideman Little Steven Van Zandt's hip radio show Underground Garage; yet another full-on jaunt will likely follow the release of Paid. And anyway, Spaghetti sees no reason to bow out gracefully just because they're working in a medium that kowtows so heavily to a youth-is-king mentality.
"I think that that's going to be more and more common as rock 'n' roll becomes an older art form," he says. "I can see more older guys doing it, and I don't see any reason to call it quits. I think putting an expiration date on your art is ridiculous."
When the Supersuckers finally do head off into the sunset, they'll be remembered fondly, and not just for the killer shows and songs like "Creepy Jackalope Eye" and "Non-addictive Marijuana." Their unashamed love of rock's majesty and absurdity, and their aptitude for simultaneously delivering and skewering both of them, have had an unmistakable impact on fringe-rock culture.
For better or worse, the quasi-ironic metal obsession of young hipsters and screamo acts like Avenged Sevenfold owes as much to the Supersuckers as the fashion statement made by the girl down front at the Nashville Pussy gig in the black cowboy hat and giant trucker's belt buckle — whether either knows it or not.
"I definitely like that part of what we brought to the table," says Eddie Spaghetti. "When we started throwing our guitars into the air and putting up the horned hands, it just seemed ridiculous. The only people that did that were Ronnie James Dio [laughs]. Now [that gesture] is like the OK sign or the thumbs-up, it's just out there. We definitely felt like we were at the forefront of that idea that it should be silly and fun.
"But then the line gets blurred. When the shows started to sell out, we had to ask ourselves, 'are we serious about this now?' And in a way, we are, because we do love everything about rock 'n' roll, the good and the cheesy sides of it."
CORRECTION: In last week's music feature, I mistakenly identified the band The Stills as a garage-rock act featuring former Discount singer Alison Mosshart. My vision must've been fuzzy from fatigue and beer-goggles — I was actually describing The Kills. The Stills, who indeed will play Ybor City's Orpheum on June 6, are a bunch of nice, stylish Canadian boys with a satchel-full of engaging melodies.
This article appears in May 24-30, 2006.