Bad Religion guitarist and Epitaph Records founder Brett Gurewitz opens up about the long journey to the punk heroes'' 16th album, "True North," and how shorter, simpler songs and three-part harmonies reignited their creativity and took them back to their pummeling roots.
Brett Gurewitz plays with Bad
Religion at the Glass House in
Pomona, California, at the 2007
Warped Tour Pre-Party. Photo courtesy
of Epitaph Records
“it’s like a rebirth or recharge,” says Brett Gurewitz, cofounding guitarist of Bad Religion, about the band’s new True North. “We just wanted to challenge ourselves to make an album like we did years ago—to reconnect with our punk-rock roots.”
After various lineups and major-label releases, the melodic-hardcore vets have launched their 16th album, one that finds them more comfortable in their own skin— or at least the skin of their earliest years. In that sense, it’s the most Bad Religion-like record in nearly two decades. And Gurewitz says it was one of the easiest to write, too.
Formed in 1979 by Gurewitz, Greg Graffin (vocals), Jay Bentley (bass), and Jay Ziskrout (drummer), the L.A.-based foursome was influenced by SoCal forebears like the Germs and Black Flag, while Graffin’s academic-anarchist lyrics were inspired by heady writers like Carl Sagan and Noam Chomsky. In 1982, the band released its blistering debut, How Could Hell Be Any Worse?, on Epitaph Records, which Gurewitz founded and still operates.
The very next year, Bentley and Ziskrout departed, and the next BR album was the keyboard-heavy blunder Into the Unknown. The band went on hiatus after the album was panned by fans and critics. They reconvened in ’85 and tacitly admitted their misstep with Into the Known, which featured Circle Jerks guitarist Greg Hetson due to Gurewitz’s battle with substance abuse.
In 1986, Gurewitz and Bentley returned to the fold and the rekindled songwriting chemistry between Gurewitz and Graffin propelled the band into its prosperous prime. From ’88–’90, Bad Religion virtually redefined modern punk with three albums: the ’90s-punk archetype Suffer, the pummelingly melodic No Control, and the poignantly fiery Against the Grain. Each showcased the band’s new musical foundation— super-tight breakneck rhythms, three-part harmonies (what they like to call “oozin’ aahs”), and articulate, establishment challenging lyrics.
“One of the things Bad Religion contributed to punk rock was three-part melodies and detailed background vocals,” says Gurewitz. “It was just something I was really fond of—probably because I was a California kid who grew up on the Beach Boys—and felt it gave a musicality to our strong messages. We are a band after all [laughs].”
After two more solid releases, the band ran into major mayhem when they signed to a major label. Shortly after their Atlantic Records debut, Stranger Than Fiction, the company re-released Recipe for Hate—which had already been released by Epitaph. As it hit the streets, Gurewitz left to handle the soaring popularity of Epitaph artists the Offspring and Rancid. Many in the punk-rock community suggested Gurewitz disliked the big-label bounce, but his explanation is that, “Bad Religion was well on its way, and it was an important time at Epitaph, so I needed to be there to aid in the hectic day-to-day ventures.”
Hardcore veteran Brian Baker of Minor Threat filled in as the band’s second guitarist alongside Hetson, but lukewarm sales of the next three albums pushed Bad Religion back to the welcoming arms of Epitaph and Gurewitz, who rejoined and made the band a sextet in 2002.
LEFT: Gurewitz (far left) at one of Bad Religion’s first shows—a University of Southern California frat
party held on November 20, 1980. Photo by Gary Leonard / Epitaph Records RIGHT: In this pic from a March 5, 1981, gig at the Vex Club in East L.A., Gurewitz proselytizes with a
Les Paul plugged into a Music Man head. Photo by Gary Leonard / Epitaph Records
His return alleviated some of the songwriting burden previously shouldered by Graffin, and it couldn't help but rekindle the signature sound.
“I am proud of every piece of music we’ve put out over the last 30+ years, but it was just time to make an album like this,” Gurewitz says of True North. “After setting out to limit ourselves to write fast, up-tempo songs around two minutes [long], this was the most fun, enthusiastic, and motivating project we’ve done in a long time.”
To get more details on the famous humanists' fearless and perennial holy war for peace and rationality through unimpeachable punk musicianship, we recently spoke with Gurewitz about the new guitar that inspired him while recording True North, and how record labels can still be relevant and beneficial to artists in 2013 and beyond.
While recording True North, Bad
Religion not only went back to its roots
with faster, shorter songs, but you went
back to recording on actual tape. Tell us
about the process of straddling the analog
and digital worlds this time around.
We tracked everything to tape and then
dumped it all into Pro Tools and mixed
the album digitally. We used the tape
machine as a bridge, but the interesting
thing about that is, unlike other things
you can put between yourself and the
ultimate recording medium, tape isn’t
a plug-in—it’s really a process. It’s a
way of working, because it’s very linear
as opposed to being random access.
Recording to tape is a more musical way
of thinking and communicating, and it's
also a more efficient way of working.
How did that affect the process of
recording the guitar parts?
Our goal for every song—which we
accomplished—was to record all the
instrumentation in one continuous
take before dumping it into Pro Tools.
We wouldn’t just cut a solid verse, fly
it into the computer, and then duplicate
it throughout the rest of the song
with crossfades. The songs on True
North don’t have any crossfades or edits
points. To me, that approach of splicing
and duplicating music—for our band
and any type of guitar-driven music
in general—sterilizes the art form.
Another positive that we really enjoy
with recording to tape is getting the
best noise-to-signal ratio, so it gives the
recording just a little bit of that old-school
tape compression.
You’ve produced a lot of Bad Religion’s
catalog, as well as other Epitaph bands
over the last 30 years. How does your
approach change with your own band?
Well, producing Bad Religion is definitely
my favorite thing to produce, because it
was the first thing I started working on way
back in ’81. Joe Barresi is part of the family
now, too—he’s worked on the last three
albums now—so it’s just become friends
hanging out, doing what we love. The new
ingredient or wrinkle this time was that I sat
in with him when he mixed True North. On
the two previous albums, I left the mixing to
Joe, but for this one I went in there and said
to him, "We’re looking for a particular old-school
sound. I mixed all those old records,
how about I take a shot at mixing this album
with you?" Joe typically works in the heavier
areas of rock, like Tool and the Jesus Lizard,
so with mixing True North we focused on not
overemphasizing or pushing anything too
much. When I work on Bad Religion, or anything
for that matter, my goal is to make seem
as realistic and true-to-form as possible. I want
you to feel like you're in the studio when you
hear it back through your iPod [laughs].
What are the main guitars you used on
True North?
All three of us tend to favor Gibson Les Pauls
because they fill the mix a lot better and typically
sound aggressive while still being articulate,
at least for what we do in Bad Religion.
I prefer guitars with shorter scale lengths
because they’re easier for me to play.
Another guitar we used quite a bit was a Nash Guitars Telecaster[-style]. I found it to be really punchy, and it lacked a lot of the shrill or brittleness that some Teles can have. We were happily surprised at how well it added to the Les Paul sounds.
Bad Religion cofounders Greg Graffin and Brett Gurewitz at the 2007 Warped Tour Pre-Party.
Photo courtesy of Epitaph Records
In the past, you've often bought a new guitar
leading into a new album cycle because
you view the instrument as a writing partner
and motivational tool. What new gear
purchases did you make this time?
My new toy this year was a tobacco-burst
Fender Kurt Cobain Signature Jaguar. It
has a very full, complete sound like a Les
Paul, but it also has these crazy, ringing
overtones that are caused by the bridge
being much more springy than a standard
bridge that’s entirely anchored to the body.
Those type of overtones are richly harmonic
and complemented the tones
from the Les Pauls.
One of the guitars you’ve had for a
long time is the red, sticker-covered
super-strat. What’s the story about
that guitar and did it see some time on
True North?
Oh yeah, I call that one "the Red
Rocker.” That’s a single-pickup Charvel
I bought in ’89 while on tour in Boston
because mine had gotten stolen the
night before. I went into the nearest
music store and bought it. Over the
years, I’ve just swapped things off it
out of necessity. The neck now is an
unfinished ESP maple neck with a
maple fretboard that has jumbo frets
because the old neck played like crap.
It went out of tune a lot, so I replaced
the stock tuners with some high-quality
Schaller tuning machines. I had the
tone knob circuitry disconnected, so the
signal path is even more direct from the
pickup to the amp—I normally leave
tone knobs wide open, so it just made
sense on this one-pickup monster. And,
I also put in a Seymour Duncan JB in
the bridge position, which all my Les
Pauls have, too. Everything I’ve done
to it ended up making it sound like a
brighter Les Paul.
The Red Rocker gets on every album. It wasn’t featured that much this time around, but it’s been with me for over 20 years, so it’s paid its dues and deserves some studio time [laughs].
What do you like so much about the
Duncan JB versus other humbuckers?
I prefer the JB because of the smooth
midrange within the overdriven Marshall
sound I like, particularly in the low
mids around the 500–600 Hz range.
Sometimes other humbuckers—especially
newer ones—have such high outputs that
you can’t hear the gain stages of the amp
as much.
What amplifiers did you record with?
We pretty much exclusively used the
Marshall JCM800. Aside from the new
guitars, we deliberately tried to keep
most of the gear simplistic and reminiscent
to our early days, so we just stuck
with what we know when it came to
amps. We also worked with an older
’70s Marshall JMP, and both heads ran
through a Mesa/Boogie 4x12 that has
Celestion Vintage 30s.
Why do you prefer Mesa cabs with the
Marshall heads?
They have a bigger box that creates a lot
more low-end presence and oomph.
In recent shows from the 30th-anniversary
tour, you used a Diezel VH4
head. Did that or any other amps make
appearances on True North?
I still have the VH4, but I just don’t
really like it that much. I know Adam
Jones from Tool gets some really
dynamic and thick sounds for what
they do, but every time I’ve tried it,
it just sounds fizzy. It does give you
infinite sustain, but I just can’t get the
Marshall’s warm, creamy punch out of
it. The EVH 5150 III is an amp that I
really like and have been using live—as
well as on most of the tracks for The
Dissent of Man—but I didn’t really use
it much on True North.
Gurewitz works the mixing console while co-producing True North at producer Joe Barresi’s House of Compression. Photo courtesy of Epitaph Records
Besides the subtle phaser on the opening
of “The Past Is Dead,” did you
use any effects this time around?
No, not really at all—True North was
definitely a less-is-more record. The
only effects we used besides that small
phaser part were delay and reverb on the
background vocals.
When you're working in the studio,
is there anything you absolutely need
to have in terms of microphones, mic
preamps, or other gear?
I always use a Shure SM57 for guitars,
and I put it right on the speaker,
pointed right at the [cone-paper's]
crease because I feel it gives a little more
woof that way. I always experiment, and
if I need something to ring out a little
more, I’ll go off axis but still point it at
the cone. I’ll also use another large-diaphragm
condenser mic, like a Neumann
U87, on another speaker of the same
cabinet. I’ll take my time to dial-in the
exact distances the mics are placed so
the phase coherence is as perfect as possible.
But the majority of the guitars
you hear on Bad Religion records come
from the SM57. I just use a tiny bit of
the condenser mic to add a little more well-rounded
body to the sound. I exclusively
use Neve channel strips when tracking guitars,
because you can’t find a better or more
dynamic preamp or EQ.
My favorite mic preamp on vocals is the Martech MSS-10—it’s an old-school, solid-state, 1-channel pre with a high-quality VU meter. I’ve never found anything to beat it, in terms of realistic vocal reproduction, in recording. I’m not a big fan of the new fad of tube mics that are trying to be retro—they have too much built-in gain for me. I’d rather use a lower-gain mic matched with the Martech to get vocals peaking near distortion—that’s what those old records and real rock ’n’ roll sound like to me. And I always use my original Focusrite Red 3 compressor with the detented pots—nothing beats it.
What's your favorite song off of True
North and why?
I’d have to actually say the title track,
because it’s classic Bad Religion—straight-ahead
punk-rock guitars, beautiful vocal
harmonies, and thought-provoking lyrics
that offer an uplifting message.
“Hello Cruel World” is almost four minutes
long and has a more subdued pace similar
to “Sanity” off No Control and “Digital
Boy” from Against the Grain. How did
that come about, given that you guys were
focused on a more up-tempo and retro writing
strategy?
Even our fastest, most punk-rock albums
have always had a slower, longer song—like
“Drastic Actions” off our first EP, Bad
Religion. We were influenced by the Germs’
song called “Shut Down (Annihilation
Man),” which is super, super slow. But
other than that, all their songs were hyper-fast.
We always looked up to them, so we
took a page out of their book and have
been doing it ever since. I don’t think it’d
be a true Bad Religion album without a
slower song that broke up the pace. So even
though we broke our own rule [of having
all short songs on the album]… we kind of
still followed one of our other ideals.
“Dharma and the Bomb” has some great
verse riffage that sounds like a psychobilly
song from Deadbolt or the Misfits'
“Hollywood Babylon,” while the call-and-response "oh yeah” vocals in the
chorus sounds like old SoCal surf rock.
What was the inspiration for that song?
That was my attempt at writing a surf-punk
song [laughs] … it almost didn’t make the
record. Before meeting for pre-production, I
double-checked the song files on my home
computer. I clicked on the song—which
was half finished and didn't have any
words because I didn’t think it was going
anywhere—but when I heard it playback I
thought, “God, that sounds pretty good.” So
I decided to bring that one along, just in case.
Even though it wasn’t entirely finished, I had
the guys track it. I finished the lyrics and the
melody in the studio and, for whatever reason,
Greg was having a tough time singing it
so I did a placeholder vocal to show him how
the lyrics should sound over top the music.
But he could never get it right.
So that’s you singing lead, not Greg?
Yes, that was actually me singing all the
main parts. Greg helped out with the background
harmonies. I really like this song,
too—not just because I’m singing leads,
but because it almost didn’t end up on the
album and I don’t hate my voice [laughs]. I
normally hate my voice when it’s front and
center, but not so much with “Dharma.”
Left to right: Brooks Wackerman (drums), Gurewitz, Graffin, Jay Bentley (bass), and Brian Baker (guitars) at producer Joe Barresi’s House of Compression
studio on July 23, 2012. Photo courtesy of Epitaph Records
You're the head of one of the largest independent
record labels today. What's your
take on how labels and the music industry
need to evolve to support artists?
I’d suggest providing state-of-the-art,
cutting-edge, music-marketing strategies
in digital mp3s, physical music, and direct
artist-to-fan connections and relationships.
That’s how labels can still be useful and
relevant in the current music landscape.
There’s no doubt some artists can do it all
themselves—Epitaph got started because I
was an artist who could do it myself—but
not all artists are that into marketing and
distribution. They would rather focus on
lyrics, music, and performing live. So that’s
where they have to make a smart decision
and find a label that will work for them
instead of them working for the label. I’m
a firm believer that anyone who gets to the
top has a team behind them.
Brett Gurewitz's Gear
Guitars
Gibson Les Paul
Fender Kurt Cobain Signature Jaguar
Nash Guitars T-style
Late-’80s Charvel with a maple ESP neck,
Seymour Duncan JB pickup,
and a Badass bridge
Amps
Mid-’80s Marshall JCM800 head
’70s Marshall JMP head
Mesa Boogie 4x12 cabinet loaded
with Celestion Vintage 30s
Effects
None
Strings, Picks, and Accessories
Ernie Ball or Jim Dunlop .010–.046
Jim Dunlop Tortex .60 mm picks
Speaking of self-marketing, have you or
anyone in the band ever regretted the
name "Bad Religion" or the infamous
"crossbuster" logo?
No, I don’t think so. When we first started
out I might’ve regretted it, because it
caused us some hardship with promoters,
venues, and people with conflicting points
of view. But now I feel it’s been a really
powerful force for positive change. What
I’ve come to believe is that social norms
aren’t generally changed through lecturing
and scholarship. Art, literature, comedians,
and musicians can have a more profound
effect on change than cultural zeitgeists or
pontificators like Richard Dawkins. You
have 30 years of kids wearing crossbuster
shirts to school and then going on to lead
successful lives as professionals, parents, and
citizens. You get some vindication showing
that the band and its fans aren’t as bad,
misguided, or damned as they originally
believed [laughs].