I really used to have it in for Less Than Jake. Not because they sucked (I knew they didn’t). Not because I was having a hipster’s knee-jerk reaction to the ska-punk algae-bloom (though there probably was a little of that). I really used to have it in for Less Than Jake, for one reason only: During my brief tenure as one-man janitorial squad for St. Petersburg’s State Theatre, they managed to hit the venue twice. And a Less Than Jake show rarely fails to generate disarray on the order of a tornado driving a silo full of fresh saltwater taffy through a confetti factory. “Um … sorry, man. I know, it’s foul,” snickers LTJ’s saxophonist, an amiable gent known to all but his mother only as J.R. “I kind of feel bad for the clubs sometimes, because we make a fucking mess wherever we go. But I don’t know, the kids like it, so we’ll continue to make messes.”
Gainesville’s reigning kings of fun-punk have been making messes for going on a decade now; like the Indians at Little Bighorn or the extras in a George Romero flick, the quintet just keeps on coming. Through numerous lineup changes. Through the commercial rise and fall of Third Wave pop-ska. Even through a bizarre (some would say unholy) union with major label Capitol Records that reinterpreted the term “creative control” as “fuck you, we’ll put out as many records as we damn well please — whether it’s on your label or not!” Of course, plenty of bands have weathered industry turmoil and the declining favor of their chosen style … and as they’re all wont to tell VH-1’s Behind The Music series, they’re well on their way back to the top, man. Less Than Jake, to the contrary, has managed to remain vital, pulling in lifers and new young fans with an enviable consistency.
“It’s a weird thing,” J.R. muses. “We are one of the few bands that a) still has horns, b) still plays ska-type music, and c) still manages to tour and stay relatively successful. People are kind of freaked out about it. They come to see us and wonder where all these kids came from, just like I do every day.”
No small part of the outfit’s longevity can be attributed to its standard operating procedure — or rather, its gleeful insistence on a lack of same. Sure, they probably keep a keen eye on the merch table, but for the most part, Less Than Jake seem bent on ignoring that they’re one of the biggest punk acts in the world.
“We like to do the stuff that’s maybe atypical for bands of our stature. That’s kind of what makes us who we are. We do what we wanna do,” says J.R. “We don’t listen to anybody else.” He reminds us, however, that it’s less about living up to someone else’s estimation of “punk rock” than fulfilling their particular vision of what a band should be. Naturally, LTJ — Vinnie, Chris, Roger, Buddy and J.R. — being who they are, their methodology is fairly steeped in the DIY tradition. But when certain opportunities arise, the band hardly cracks open the underground-dogma handbook in search of guidance. Stuff like signing with Capitol, for instance. Or opening a leg of freakin’ Bon Jovi’s last arena tour, like they did in 2000 after the release of Borders and Boundaries, their fourth full-length.
“Probably, for me, it was the most memorable thing we’ve done. Who are these guys opening up for Bon Jovi? They were losing their minds, they either loved us or hated us,” J.R. says with a laugh. “It’s a trip just to be playing in arenas, 15,000 people — sitting down, which is a weird thing for us. And then I turn to my right, and oh, look, it’s (Bon Jovi drummer) Tico Torres, watching our set. Nobody threw bottles, the crowds were really polite, the guys in Bon Jovi were stellar, amazing individuals, so nice to us.
“It’s just another reason why I love being in this band, and why this band is what it is. It was the most punk rock thing we could’ve done at that point,” he says of the shows. “Everybody’s always talking about how they’re punk rock, and punk is this, punk is that. Punk rock is doing what you wanna do, and not letting anybody tell you not to.”
The road is where every successful fringe-rock band makes their bones, and after more than nine years of bringing their portable brand of mayhem to all-ages environments worldwide, Less Than Jake boasts a massive and loyal fan base composed of both the young and the young-at-mind. Most seasoned acts would’ve opted for a less rigorous touring regimen by now. Here, again, LTJ confounds the standard practice by not only continuing to tour exhaustively but also by enjoying it, and delivering the kind of joyful energy reserved for 18-year-olds on their first van trek.
“We all really like touring, so we put everything we have into it. I don’t know, we just like to hang out with our fans,” says J.R., but admits that even Less Than Jake is susceptible to the occasional bout of burnout. “It’s a day-to-day thing, for sure. Some days it’s really rad, for weeks it’s amazing, but some days you’d rather be anywhere else.”
Still and all, it doesn’t take much prodding to get the band out of the practice space and onto the bus. (Yes, they tour in a bus now — they’ve earned it; get over yourself.) They don’t even need a product to plug. Their current jaunt is merely a warm-up for a longer stint with Bad Religion and Hot Water Music. After which, naturally, they’ll record and release the follow-up to Borders & Boundaries, and tour for that, adding to their trademark slew of collectible 7-inches and compilation appearances along the way. For a crew that’s been around almost long enough to be on its cash-in reunion tour by now, Less Than Jake seems to be settled in their stride.
“We’re gonna keep kicking ass and taking names until there aren’t any names left to take, I think. That’s our plan right now,” says J.R. “Make sure kids are leaving sweaty and tired, and can’t wait until we come back. I guess that’s all we ever wanna do.
“It’s already been 10 years, what’s another fuckin’ 10?”
Music Critic Scott Harrell can be reached at 813-248-8888, ext. 109, or e-mail him at scott.harrell@weeklyplanet.com.
This article appears in Feb 20-26, 2002.
