It’s easy to scoff at bands from the 90s as being the music of flyover states that are trapped in an endless loop of nostalgia, but this is a snobby elitist take that overlooks a key factor in their success and longevity. If you think about it, the wave of 90s alternative rock bands were the last era of the music industry and bands making millions with radio hits and CDs. Because of the cash flow, record labels could take risks on bands and promote them, which in turn led to many rock bands getting signed and making a fortune off a single hit. The bands that rode this wave were lucky to have existed at this time, and you can hardly blame them for continuing to ride it all these years later as fans increasingly want to soak up the 90s. Out of all of these bands, one can make a solid argument that few have reaped the benefits of this bygone era as much as Everclear.
From their humble origins in Portland, Oregon as a band that was more punk than pop, to dominating the charts in the late 90s with catchy guitar rock hits like “Father of Mine,” “Santa Monica,” and “Wonderful,” Everclear sold millions of albums and continues touring to this day. Even after their mainstream success faded in the early 2000s, Everclear continued to release new material while proudly embracing the stamp of “90s band.” They even started a tour called Summerland in 2012 that brought some of the most beloved one-hit wonders of the 90s together on one bill. During this entire time, Everclear’s frontman Art Alexakis has maintained his unflinching devotion to the timeless coolness of guitar-driven rock and roll. Unlike some of his peers, he also isn’t afraid to play the hits, and this has paid off in the fact that Everclear continues to draw large crowds throughout the country.
When I spoke with Alexakis, he was waiting for trucks to come and pick up the band’s gear as they prepared to embark on a tour to celebrate the 30th anniversary of their debut full-length album World of Noise. The album has long been out of print and unavailable on streaming platforms, and the expansive reissue gives fans a chance to hear the beginnings of what would become one of the biggest bands of the decade. Compared to the guitar-driven power pop and rock of later albums like Sparkle and Fade and So Much For The Afterglow, World of Noise is raw and unpolished, with influences of grunge and punk anchoring a sound that is much more aligned with music coming out of the Pacific Northwest at that time. Yet, Alexakis’s melodicism and ability to write simple, punchy songs that connect in a personal way manages to shine, and you can hear traces of the success that would follow in subsequent releases.
Recently, I spoke with Alexakis about the 30th anniversary of World of Noise, being proud to play the hits, embracing the current wave of 90s nostalgia, being a heritage act, the bands he wished he could have booked for Summerland, and more.
You’ve been playing some shows already. How has it been out there these days?
2020 was a wash. In 2021 we played a bunch of shows and it was good, but people were not ready yet. A lot of people were but a lot weren’t. They didn’t want to deal with the masks, stuff like that. It was an anomaly that I have never seen in 35 years playing in a band, where you sold more tickets than people showed up. People just wrote off the money – nope, don’t want to go, don’t feel safe. This year is already different. It’s a different vibe out there now.
One thing I’ve noticed is that you seem unafraid to play any town. You play random small towns but still hit the big cities. Is there a difference in the reception you get?
That’s a great question. A band like us who is a heritage band, we get offers and people are like, why didn’t you come to our city? I say, because we didn’t get an offer. We’re a band that got played a lot on MTV, a lot on radio, so we have fan bases that are just not in the major markets. We do well in the major markets so we [try] to hit those as much as we can, but at the same time if someone wants us to come to Poughkeepsie or Schenectady or Grand Junction, CO, we’re going to play rock and roll there. We’re minstrels. People in bands forget what their gig is – our gig is to go out and entertain people. It’s not about our egos, it’s about going out. Our egos are super served when we’re writing the music and making our artwork, and it is art whether you like it or not. You’re creating something from nothing and that’s art. Once that’s done, then you’re just out selling it, and if people want to hear it in some small town in Colorado and they’re paying you decent money to go, you go and you put on a show for 300 people like you’d put on for 300,000. Same show.
Seems like you’re in a unique position as a band. Up and coming bands can’t just go to small towns and get the promotion and have the recognition already in place to draw.
We talked about this because I see it working. It’s working that way, away from major markets, because I think people in major markets have so much other stimuli going on. It’s not like we’re appealing to teenagers, but that being said, I think 25% of the people who show up at our shows now are anywhere from 17-30. They were not a part of the original demographic and it just blows my mind. I talk to them and they’re like, “I like rock and roll and I don’t hear it in any contemporary bands.” Bands from the 90s are exciting, and I get it. I was excited and I loved being a part of what was going on with rock radio in the 90s. It was fun, guitars on the radio again for probably the first time since the 70s when I grew up. All those bands from the 90s grew up in the 70s and we came of age with Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, Cheap Trick, Kiss, all these big melodic rock bands. I think the 90s was a twisted version of that and I think it appeals to people all over the place.
I wanted to ask you about that. 90s nostalgia and styles from the era are more popular than ever with younger people. Has that translated to new listeners discovering Everclear?
It has to! Where the hell are these kids coming from? I’m not kidding when I tell you that they are all over [our] shows, and they’re singing not just the hits. They’re singing the deep tracks, they know the albums, they’re buying vinyl. It’s just really exciting to see people excited about rock and roll. It’s also just exciting to see people excited about your music. That’s part of the reason we do it and anyone who says otherwise is lying.
It seems like most fans know your later albums. What made you want to reissue World of Noise? It’s a landmark for the band but not necessarily well known.
It’s the 30th anniversary and we knew we were going to commemorate. And just randomly, I found the original 4-track master and mixtapes of World of Noise in my storage unit. I went and listened to it and it sounded so much better than the version that Capitol put out. They mastered it without me back in the day, but I didn’t sell it to them, I just licensed it to them for five years. So it’s been out of print since 1999 and it’s never been on [digital] platforms. When I listened to the mixes, I was like, I want to remaster this with my guy and put it back out. I found all these other songs that were on tapes. We had to bake these things because they were so old and we brought them to a guy who all he does is resurrect old tapes. We put together what I think is a cool package, and you get World of Noise sounding the way it first did when we recorded it. It’s a lot more ballsy, not as thin and high end-y. It’s still poor tracking, but there’s a toughness and immediacy that wasn’t in the version in 1994. I’m just stoked to put it out and I think it’s going to serve the super fans. It’s a lot more punk/grunge than Sparkle and Fade, and Sparkle and Fade is more that than So Much For The Afterglow. Every album sounded different. I never wanted to make the same record twice. It’s boring for me and boring to listen to. This is where it all started and I hope people get it. It’s a pretty angry record.
Listing to World of Noise now, it seems more tied to punk and grunge more than the poppier sound you developed on later albums. Were you influenced by the other music coming out of the Northwest?
Not really. Everybody was influenced by the success of Nirvana and the fact that they were heavy and melodic all at the same time. I was pretty much doing similar stuff like that but with more of a country edge in my band before Everclear. When I moved to Portland, I knew I was going to do one more band. I had a baby coming, my girlfriend was pregnant and from Portland and my sister lived in Portland. I had a network up there so we moved from San Francisco and I was going to do one more band and that was Everclear. At that time, for rock bands, I was already ancient, I was thirty. I just liked music that was melodic but had swagger, and that’s what I hear on this record.
And this album got you signed right?
It got the ball rolling. We started touring and we got more interest from labels. When the bidding wars started – 27 labels put out offers in an 18-hour period and that’s when they would fax them to your lawyer or manager – and I remember sending a sheet saying we want this much money, we want this much for our records, we want tour support, I want a fund to make records, and all this stuff. And they were all like, that sounds pretty reasonable. Then at the bottom I wrote, by the way, I want total creative control over everything, and I produce my own records. And two thirds of the labels just went poof, just gone, so I was left with about 8 labels and I met them all and picked Capitol. The guy who signed us, who is still a dear friend to this day, had been on a road trip with a friend in the industry to see a band and this friend was a freak about Everclear. My A&R thought World of Noise was ok but what he was really focused on was my style and he wanted to watch us develop.
I live in Portland and I’ve always been fascinated by the Everclear story. I’ve read that you didn’t always get a positive reception and you had to fight for it. Did that make you more driven?
Absolutely! Let’s be realistic about this – the people that didn’t like us were some of the bands that knew this guy who had had an affair with my girlfriend. She was in Portland I was still in San Francisco, but she was just having a fling with him. We were young and relatively much more prettier than we are now, and I was screwing around and she was screwing around. So, when I moved up to Portland, I had no idea I was coming into this thing, right? I didn’t know there would be this guy bad talking me to everybody, but he did and that just didn’t go away for a long time. Like you said, it made me have to try harder. No one was giving us gigs so when I had a chance to make a demo, I made it for $400 and that became World of Noise. We got accepted to South By Southwest on that demo tape and that became our first record. Before we left town, we stopped at a post office and I ran in with 25 packets we had made up and sent it out to clubs, venues, and newspapers all over the Northwest. By the time we got back we were in like seven different papers calling us the best new Portland band and we had [tons] of messages on our phones. That’s where it started for us in 1993. We just built it up with touring and we got signed in 1994. For the most part, we’ve sold more records per capita than any other Portland band. We’re the biggest selling band to ever come out of Oregon, so we have huge fans there but the hip [people] at the time did not like us and did not like the fact that I worked hard. These were all trustafarian rich white kids and upper middle class and it was cool to just get wasted and put a record on Sub Pop and not do anything about it, not tour on it. That would be playing into the man. I was like, I have a baby at home I have to raise. I want to do this for a living, I’m not writing songs to sell hits, but I do want to make a living at it. I’m a minstrel, that’s what we are. We’re out there singing for our supper every night.
Thinking back to that time, it seems like you were getting tired of trying to make it but it also seems like you had a long-term plan in place on how you wanted to succeed.
Not really. I’m not that smart. We were ready to throw down with fists or guitars and drums, whatever you preferred. We didn’t look punk or act punk in that kind of sellable thing with Green Day and a lot of bands, but we had that fuck you attitude big time. And we kind of still do, for guys in our 50s and 60s. Call it punk, call it rock and roll, but I can’t do anything else well. I’m good at being sober but it’s a lot of work and I’ve been doing it for 33 years. I’m good at being of service to people, I like taking care of people, but when it comes to what I do for a living there’s nothing I’ve ever wanted to do but play electric guitar and sing since I was 3 or 4 years old and saw the Beatles on Ed Sullivan.
One thing I’ve always respected about you is that you seem to love playing your older songs and hits whereas some bands seem annoyed to be stuck in a certain era. What keeps the music interesting for you?
Let’s go back to that fuck you attitude. I play the hits because that’s super serving the people that buy tickets for us to be able to play. It’s a thing of respect. And I’m not ashamed of my hits, they’ve been great friends to me and given me a wonderful life. It’s funny because I remember this one guy in a Portland band being like, “I could blow my nose and hits like ‘Santa Monica’ would just come out, and I’m like, “start blowing dude, you need to catch a cold.” It’s like they don’t understand the work and the craft and how much I would just put my whole being into songs. I’m critical of bands who don’t play their hits, because who are they making happy? Themselves? Is that why they’re out making music and not being of service to people? Selfishly, I play rock and roll because I love doing it and me and the band make a good living off making music, which in your 50s and 60s is no easy thing. But at the same time, I get irritated with bands that don’t take care of their fans. Especially when they’re playing these festivals and it’s like, you’re really not going to play your hits? What are you proving to people, that you’re cool? I know when I play my hits and my deep tracks and build a set that the band loves and the crowd’s going to love, what’s wrong with that? How is that selling out? If you’re worried about selling out, don’t ever put out a record and just stay in your mom’s garage.
I would think it has to be a cool feeling no matter what to see tons of people singing along to songs even if you’ve played them a million times.
It’s the best. Just last weekend we played a little street festival in Everett, WA and it was just pissing rain. The promoter was like, I know it’s in your contract rain or shine but if you don’t want to play, we’ll pay you anyway. I was like “bullshit, I’m playing.” We went out and played and I had to be careful not to slip on that stage and bust my ass – I’ve got MS so I don’t walk that great to start with – but it was 1,700 people out in the pouring rain just rocking out singing all the words to damn near every song. What’s not fulfilling about that? I’ve got a great job and I’m very grateful for it, even for my MS because it’s helped me really understand the priorities in my life and how my glass is 3/4 full at all times.
How is everything going with your MS these days? It seems like you’re rocking harder than ever.
I was diagnosed in 2016 but didn’t announce it until 2019. I didn’t really want it to be a public thing, but then I finally wrote a song about it on my solo record and I figured I should talk about it [at that point]. So, I wrote a letter to my fans and the press picked up on it. That being said, I was doing ok with the basic medication they put you on. But I caught Covid in January 2021 and it kicked my ass. It put me in the hospital for two and a half weeks and put me in bed for another two months. That was rough because it progressed my MS. My lesions on my brain and spine got bigger and more inflamed. Now I’m on a new medication and I just got a new MRI and all of the inflammation is gone and some of the lesions are shrinking, so the medication is doing its job. I’m swimming, doing physical therapy, lifting. I’ve got a lot of energy, but is it harder to walk? Yeah. Do I jump around onstage as much as I used to? Nope. But I still go out and put as much as I have into it.
Glad to hear you’re still out there rocking. We need more guitar rock these days.
Fuckin’ A right. People in the 90s were saying, so what’s alternative about? Everybody was saying, like we’re alternative to this and that, and I was like get off your fucking high horse. We’re not alternative to anything, if you want to hear alternative listen to Sonic Youth. We’re melodic rock bands. But I’m glad to be a part of it whatever you want to call it because it was rock and roll guitars on the radio. God, I wish that would come back. There are really great young bands coming up but they’re right under the surface.
I feel like the 90s and early 2000s was one of the last eras of big rock bands getting signed.
We were part of the last vestige of the rock and roll music industry. I tell people, money was shooting out of the fucking ground. If you had a successful record, you could call up your label president and $500,000 shows up in your account. It happened! I remember I was going to buy a house for my ex-wife because I was going to marry my trophy wife. I just wanted to buy it, and I called up the president of Capitol and he was like, “sure man, I’ll put 400,000 in your account.” Can you imagine that?
You can’t buy that with Spotify royalties.
Fuck no. Those days are over. It used to be that you toured to support the album, that was the product. Now you make an album or a single or something to help sell at the merch booth when you’re on the road because you’re making your money on the road. A lot of people bitch and whine about it, but I’m just grateful to be able to go out and play music and make a living at our age and make people happy.
Is there one band you always wanted to book for the Summerland Tour but never got?
There’s a couple of bands. I wanted to get Presidents of the United States of America. Chris is a great guy but he just doesn’t want to tour like that. The other band is Veruca Salt. They almost did it one year but didn’t want to do it because they had young kids. There were a lot of bands that were like, we’re not a 90s band and we transcend the 90s. I would say that all except one have since called my management and said, “hey is that Summerland thing still going on?” It’s like you said earlier, the 90s thing is just out of control right now and they realized that they are a 90s band because that’s how people perceive them. I don’t think of Everclear as a 90s band, I think of us as a rock band, but do people perceive of us as a 90s alternative band? Of course.
