Tim Armstrong and Lars Frederiksen of Rancid
Punk idealism has a way of withering in the spotlight. Not so for Rancid. The local punk veterans have managed to survive it all, and with their rocker ethics intact: the rise to mainstream prominence in the ’90s, followed by the inevitable backlash from the punk world; the ambitious, fan disenfranchising album (1998’s Life Won’t Wait); and then the reactionary fan make-up album (2000’s Rancid). The band breaks a five-year absence from the studio with this summer’s Let The Dominoes Fall, accompanied by a two-month-long tour with Rise Against, which includes a date on July 11 at The Forum. Singer/guitarists Tim Armstrong and Lars Frederiksen talked with Decider about staying the course on the long, strange punk-rock trip.
Decider: How do you think Rancid has managed to stick it out for so long?
Lars Frederiksen: We put all the kind of business shit secondary. We’ve always put the weight on the friendship [and] being able to communicate with each other and not rushing the process. When we feel it’s time to do something, we do it. We don’t go, “They’re saying it’s time for us to do this, so now we have to do it.” The secret is not succumbing to the pressures from anybody else. We’ve just always done our own thing because that’s what we’re accustomed to do. When we were 12 years old and someone called us “faggot,” we just kept walking. You get conditioned at an early age to just keep walking and do things on your own path.
D: At this point, is friendship more important than making music?
LF: It’s never been anything but that. We’ve always taken care of each other. We all came from these fucked-up dysfunctional homes, and we made this family unit out here. That’s first and foremost. I think that’s one of the values that we all possess.
Tim Armstrong: Music is just something that we do. Me and Matt [Freeman, bassist] have played music together ever since we were kids. But friendship and being the godfather to Matt’s son, that’s the real deal. Having these dudes as brothers, being part of a crew, a family—that’s No. 1.