Lars Frederiksen (guitar), Brett Reed (drums), Matt Freeman (bass) and Tim "Lint" Armstrong (vocals/guitar) provide street-level punk with their ideas informed and inspired by a youth of blue-collar poverty in Albany, California, USA. Armstrong and Freeman (often under the alias Matt McCall) had formed their first band, Operation Ivy, in 1987 with Dave Mello (drums) and Jesse Michaels (vocals). When that band split up in 1989, Freeman, Armstrong and Reed became Rancid. They made their debut in 1992 with a five-track 7-inch single, "I'm Not The Only One". After flirting with the idea of using Green Day's Billie Joe Armstrong as a second guitarist, Rancid were contacted by Brett Gurewitz's Epitaph Records, with a view to recording their debut album. During these sessions Reed met Frederiksen (guitar, ex-Slip, UK Subs ), and invited him to join the band. He did so, and Rancid's self-titled debut was released in April 1993, featuring more variety and composure than their debut single. In September, they began their first national tour, followed by an extended European trek in November. Frederiksen made his debut at the beginning of the following year on the "Radio" single, co-written with Green Day's Armstrong and released on Fat Wreck Chords, the label run by Fat Mike of No FX. February saw sessions begin on their next album, Let's Go. Comprising 23 songs, including the single "Salvation", it saw the band, and Armstrong in particular, compared favourably with the early Clash sound, albeit taken at a more frenetic pace. The album quickly achieved gold then platinum status, alerting the major labels to Rancid's presence. An offer was made by Madonna's Maverick Records, allegedly accompanied by a nude picture of the singer, but was declined. More tempting was a one and a half million dollar advance contract from Epic Records (the Clash's US label) but this too was turned down in favour of staying "with friends" at Epitaph. Rancid were now a very bankable attraction for a band whose visual image had never strayed from bondage trousers and mohawks. They returned to the studio after touring in March 1995, with ... And Out Come The Wolves the result. Returning to a punk/ska sound reminiscent of Operation Ivy at their peak and the Clash by their third album, as ever, the lyrics were written from earthy personal experience. Once again, it was a major seller, featuring the two radio hits, "Time Bomb" and "Ruby Soho". The ska theme continued on 1998's Life Won't Wait, with two tracks recorded in Jamaica. The album featured a collaboration with Mighty Mighty Bosstones vocalist Dicky Barrett on "Cash, Culture And Violence".

Interview with Lars and Matt

Seconds: Is "...And Out Come the Wolves" about the record business?

Lars: It sums up the whole year. I don't think it's about one thing in particular, it sums up everything: friends, family, whatever. It's not really signaling anything out, it's just a broad assumption of what's up.

Matt: That happens but there's a lot of people out there that like us, believe it or not. There's a lot of people that have been with us since the beginning. There are always going to be that small minority that's going to be unhappy with what you do, but that happens with any band that gets successful. That has nothing to do with the fans. We really appreciate the people that buy our records. That small minority is going to be upset about us and everybody in the world that doesn't do what they want to do, so f*ck 'em.

S: The business changed around you, you didn't change around them...

L: It was just a matter of time before people wanted to listen to something that meant something instead of Rock fantasies about killing dragons. I don't think an unemployed 18-year-old kid really wants to hear about Dungeons & Dragons. People want to hear about themselves, real life. People want to hear about things that affect them every day. They want to be able to identify and fit in, and I think there's a lot of alienation in the world today. Punk Rock was one of those places where you could always go; I wasn't considered a freak because I was among freaks. It's okay to be f*ckin' different, it's okay to look weird, it's okay to think weird or whatever. I'm glad.

S: Why do you think Hardcore was suppressed for so long and not taken seriously--not just in the mainstream record industry but in the "cool" scene as well?

M: I don't know. There could be a million answers to that question. Right now, all these bands are doing well. We'll see what happens in the next couple of years. As far as it being not taken seriously, I think you've got to clarify that a little bit. Not being taken seriously by the powers-that-be in the music industry is probably what you're trying to say, right?

S: Take an old Hrdcore band like TSOL, for instance. Not only were they not taken seriously by record companies in L.A., they weren't taken seriously by the hipsters in Hollywood either.

L: I think that was their whole point--"Let's just make some music and have some fun." I think Punk Rock is fighting for what it's been saying for the last twenty years, and now here in 1995 it's having its say. It's about f*cking time, to quote Pennywise.

S: Was it ironic that you recorded a Punk Rock record in famous Rock studios like Electric Lady and Fantasy?

M: We wanted the stuff to sound good. We didn't sit down and go, "Let's try to find a famous Rock studio to do a record. Let's see, Journey use to work at Fantasy...let's call them up." The fact of the matter is, it's more out of convenience. Fantasy's right in our neighborhood and it's a great sudio. We could have gotten away with recording a record for a lot less money, a lot less time and a poorer quality but that's something we've never compromised on. We'd rather not get paid for awhile and make something good. These records are going to be with you for a long time and we really want to do something good. I think you can make a good record at any studio. I don't want to get in a whole big mantra about how to record--I've heard great records come out of four-tracks. We just went to the studio that had the facilities we wanted. Whether it was famous or not wasn't a consideration; we wanted the thing to sound good.

S: Some of you guys were in Operation Ivy?

M: Me and Tim were.

S: What's the state of Ska today?

M: I don't know, you'd have to ask a Ska band. There's a lot of good bands out there but I'm in a Punk band. I've always liked Ska and been influenced by it and obviously we've got a couple Ska songs on this record, but I don't know who's keeping the Ska flame alive. Maybe we're helping. The Bosstones are pretty good, aren't they? They just made a great record. Most of the bands that play Ska are not like roots traditionalists, they're like these joke jock bands. Op Ivy was a Punk band. We played Ska but we never played Ska shows. We played with one Ska band in our whole two-year career. Ska people didn't like us very much. We always played Punk Rock shows. S: Aren't there some lyrics on the new record about the breakup of Operation Ivy?

M: Yeah.

S: What did you learn from that whole experience and how do you apply that to what you're doing today?

M: I think it's all relative. I was a lot younger in that band, it was a different time, too. It was the late Eighties; you didn't have major labels around. I think the main thing I learned was to not give a f*ck what anyone else says. That's not the reason we broke up. Even in our small little scene, we were getting some s*it for getting too big. Compared to Rancid now, it's sort of stupid actually.

S: How do you think the Hardcore scene of today differs from the Hardcore scene of ten years ago?

L: I think the energy and spirit is still there. I always hear journalists compare what happened then to what happened now and these motherf*ckers, after they're done writing their endearing Punk Rock story, they get into their BMWs with the anarchy sticker on it and drive home to Beverly Hills. For some old motherf*cker who probably ditched out on the whole Punk thing to follow Motley Crue--I don't give a f*ck what they have to say because they're not relevant. Music is always relevent, especially Punk Rock because it's got integrity, a message, and power. It always will have that.

S: Are those people...

L: They're jealous because they're old, balding, and don't got anything inside them. There's probably more relevance for it in 1995 than in 1983. Homeless problems, we don't have health care, we don't have s*it like that. If you get sick and don't have a job, then you're sick. Here, you have to work to survive. I don't need to tell people how f*cked up it is because they already know.

S: What about old Hardcore bands who look at you and say, "I was doing those riffs twelve years ago?"

M: We probably got an influence from them. We're very thankful that they did it twelve years ago.

S: That's the cross one bears for the being the first to do something.

M: Well, you never hear us say we're better than those bands. We're pretty conscious of who we are and where we came from.

L: We pay a lot of homage to the bands that inspired us. We're all just music-lovers. We just love playing music and who we're playing music with. I don't know...to me, if some guy that was playing Punk Rock music back then is jealous, I'm sorry, but you can start a new band. Punk Rock was about not having any competition and I'm not going to compete with anybody to make music. I'm not Guns N' Roses here. I'm not going to ride on a separate bus than Matt--we're not competitive with each other. That's for football players. We owe everything we have to bands like GBH, The Clash, Sex Pistols, The Ruts, 999, Angelic Upstarts--the list can go on and on and we're very thankful to them.

S: What are some of the great forgotten bands?

L: X--they're still around.

M: They just put out a great record. It's not like their first four records, it's acoustic and it's really weird--Unclogged. I listen to it all the time.

S: Who are some of the new Hardcore bands we should be looking out for?

L: Offspring, Green Day...I love those bands. Offspring are probably one of my favorite bands and they always were.

M: Pennywise made the most amazing Punk record of 1995. They're one of those bands--and Fletcher's probably going to kick my ass for saying this--that's going to have a hard time reproducing a live sound on record because they're so good live. I like their records but seeing them live is just the s*it.

L: There's Swingin' Utters and Guttermouth.

M: There we go. They're from Orange County, they're on nitro.

L: Then there's Sick of It All, for sure. Those guys have been doing what they'be been doing for the last 10 years. I don't want to discredit them in any way. They've been an influence on our music, bands like them and Agnostic Front--all that New York hadrcore s*it. Sick of It All, they're the epitome of what's incredible about music. I love that band so much, they rule. We're their biggest fans. I think Pennywise and Sick of It All are the top two that I really think are important and can really open up another spectrum of music. If Punk Rock is going to keep progressing, you've got to look at every aspect of music, not just Discharge.

S: People always have nostalgia for different eras of Punk Rock, but are there really any differences between earlier days of Punk and now?

M: I remember how things used to be when I was younger and that was cool. But you're asking a philosophical question and I don't think there's any one answer. Are they different? Yes, things are different because it's 1995 and not 1985. The world's a different place. Look at all this crap you've got going now with information highway s*it, all this stuff. Things are different. The world's getting smaller and smaller and things are getting insane. You can't be anonymous anymore. You're a name and number and you're hooked in somewhere, whether it's the DMV or the Social Security office. Yeah, things are differnet because it's a different time, there's different concerns. The record industry is different. You've got all these independent labels like Epitaph, and Epitaph has a band that sold 7 million reords or whatever it is. You have Lookout Records, who've turned over a bunch of money, which trickles down to Mordam Distributing, which trickles down to Gilman Street and all the other little labels popping around the East Bay. I think there's a lot more opportunity now. I think it's progressed. On the other hand, everyone's so concerned about this media frenzy with MTV and Rancid, Offspring, Green Day being all over the place. The fact of the matter is, there's a billion bands out there and just the fact that these bands are doing this and bringing it to the populace means it's going to affect the underground. It's going to bring money into that--it already has. I hate to f*ck up anyone's Punk Rock dreams, but it is. It's making it a lot easier for a lot of people. How long that's going to last in the meida, who f*ckin' knows?

S: So it's not tainted by all the acceptance?

M: It's tainted in your mind if you want it to be. What is this? A f*cking religion? Are we talking about Catholicism? Is Catholicism tainted because the Pope is on television? Is being a Baptist contaminated because you've got Jimmy Swaggart going into hotel rooms with prostitutes? Is Punk Rock tainted because Rancid's on MTV? If you look at Punk Rock as a personal lifestyle, then that's going to be your decision if it's tainted. I know a lot of people that think it is, I know a lot of people that just don't give a s*it, and I know a lot of people are happy about it. Personally, I think it's fine. If you don't like Rancid, don't buy the record. If you don't like Offspring, don't watch them on MTV. A lot of these people complain and then they don't go out to the little Punk Rock show when you have eight touring bands come in and there's three people there.

L: Punk Rock has been fighting for 20 years to have our say and now we're getting it, and everybody's running away from the mic because the're just scared chickens*its. It's like, "I want to say the things on my mind but...just not right now." If you ask me, the bands who have something to say are saying it and those are the real Punk bands. I haven't been looking this way for half of my life for nothing. I'm not going to run scared and call somebody a sell-out--that's the easy way out. You want your f*cking say, well here it is, here's your turn at bat.

M: Everyone wants their own little thing that they've discovered and when it gets popular, they don't like it anymore. I'm not mad at those people. Rancid does what we f*cking do, it's sort of a take-it-or-leave-it thing. We try to put out the best records we possibly can; we're getting a lot of airplay; we're on MTV. We haven't changed. Who knows what the hell's going to happen? If you like us, great. If not, what are we going to do? Anyone that's done a Punk Rock van tour more than twice--which we all have--I've got no complaints from these bands. A lot of people wish they were doing as well as us because it's such a hard thing to do--I give credit to a lot of these smaller bands because it's hard doing that. Poeple don't understand that most people in bands have to have day jobs and they don't have good jobs. You can't be a marketing manager for Merill Lynch and go on a Punk tour. You've got to have money and sweat in a van in the middle of Texas in the middle of July, come back, get some other s*it job for minimum wage--it's a vicious circle. I have respect for bands that do that. When a band's been working like that and wants to say something to me, I might not agree with them but at least I have a little bit of respect, "You've been through what I've been through." But for a lot of these people it's like, "Walk a mile in my shoes." A lot of these rich kids --and I don't berate anyone for being rich especially if they're born into it. One thing I can't stand is someone trying to be poor. I've been poor, it's not very fun and there's always some motherf*cker that's way poorer than you so you might as well not complain about it. About five years ago, I was in MDC and I didn't have any money, I was f*cked up, blah blah blah...I was getting evicted from my house and Dave MDC comes up to me and goes "At least you're not starving in Somalia and seeing your family get killed."

S: Right now is the one time that Punk isn't just preaching to the converted.

L: I'm from Campbell, CA. It's Nowhereville, USA; it's some working-class town and Punk Rock got to me there, and if it wasn't for the music then I don't know if I'd be who I am. I'd probably be in penitentiaries. Because I had that music, I was able to live and have some hope and dreams. I think we're in a situation where we can give back what we got out of it. Preaching is for evangelists and politicians--we're not that. If we wanted to be evangelists, we would have grown up the Christian way. If we wanted to be politicians, we all would have tried to go to college and become lawyers. Unfortunately, we're just these blue-collar working-class kids and this is what we do--we make music.

S: What's the future of Punk?

M: I think there's always going to be an underground. We'll still be playing around. We were doing this way back before we got big, and we'll be doing it way after. It's pretty much all we know how to do. This is the only thing I've ever been able to do in my life better than anybody else. I'm not going to make predictions because I thought Operation Ivy would die after '89 and it sold 175,000 records. There will always be an alternative.

S: Can you perceive how Punk might be different than we have now?

L: I think the mainstream Punk Rock thing is going to be infiltrated by a lot of really fake bands, bands that are not the real McCoy. I'm hoping people will see right through it and I'm sure that they will. The industry's throwing the label "Punk" around so loosely these days, it's almost like a marketing strategy. Those bands know who they are, they don't have to look too far deep inside to see what's real and what's not.

S: If there's a Punk encyclopedia, what do you want it to say for Rancid?

M: Formed in 1991 and still going in 2035. Have added wheelchairs and walkers to their stage show. Put out sixty-five records in forty-four years. Lars has a receding mohawk. Street-level working-class Punk band with street-level ideas from street-level points of view. Blue-collar band. Working band.

L: We are happy about what's going on but we also feel very privileged and very thankful. We do not take it for granted. We try our best at everything we do. You never know how long things are going to last. It's all gravy from now on...None of us really put ourselves on pedestals; we're not Soul Asylum.

M: You can have a lot worse jobs than this. Sorry, I'm not going to sit here and say, "It's so hard! I walk down the street and people yell for me." That crybaby s*it just does not fly with us. We're in the top five-tenths of a percent of bands that sell this many records. We feel extremely lucky and do not take it for granted. There's nothing I hated worse when I was a kid growing up than to read some Rock Star complain about how tough his life is. That's what got me into Punk, I was like, "What the f*ck?" At least when Punk Rock complained about something you could relate to it.

L: I wish I could still go to a club, get drunk and talk s*it and no one would listen. Now it all comes back to me. I'm real careful about what I say because I know poeple actually listen to me now. But hey man, big deal. I'm sure by the time I'm fifty, no one's going to be listening to us anymore.