But I’m so grateful that a little band from Oklahoma had a chance to do something with a spirit of just genuine interest to not only reconnect with them, to reconnect with ourselves and where we started. I feel like this was a gift to our younger selves. That we had no expectations, that it spilled out into something that became more of a cultural conversation, is something you just can’t predict. Now we’re on the other side of it, there’s this responsibility ringing true. I want to see other bands doing this. Internally, people are like, man, people are gonna copy this. I’m like, I don’t give a shit! Fucking copy this. Fucking lay it across the United States. Stare eye to eye with the person who loves what you’ve given them.
Are you looking to do more of these house party shows now?
Yeah, we want to do it thoughtfully. I mean, we’ve had 700,000 people RSVP for this. And when you have an onslaught like that, you need to stable yourself and do a thoughtful re-assessment of how to do this thoughtfully, to where the crowd is safe, to where we have an infrastructure in place and I’m not calling for two porta potties at 3 pm in Ames, Iowa, when 5,000 people are filling up a latrine to the brim. People were running through cornfields. I literally was like, we need two more porta potties. Thank Christ they landed, like, right when we hit the stage and then the floodgates opened. I saw a girl popping a squat next to her boyfriend. I was like, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. She’s like, Can I have a picture? And I was like, This is feral.
I heard that people were also wriggling through fences and renting ladders to get on rooftops to see you at these house parties?
People were selling two beers for 15 bucks behind a fence, which I thought was actually a decent deal. Way cheaper than an amphitheater. And then yeah, some sly dog…I guess he must have had a hoard of ladders. He was renting them out for 150 bucks behind a fence in Nashville. We were paying for [a] fence that got two boards, like, chopped open by some scallywags trying to sneak in through the side street.
I want to play a roller rink because I want to see people shooting the duck and playing snowball while we play. Then a foam party. We’re totally gonna do a foam party. A company hit us up and they’re like, Hey, we would love to blow foam at one of these. That sounds fucking fantastic. Probably have to get new instruments after, but I’ve never been invited to a foam party. I wasn’t cool enough to go to a foam party.
Sarah Pardini; courtesy of All-American Rejects/Tyson Ritter
Has it been freeing for you to do things in a DIY way since you aren’t currently working with a major label?
Absolutely. We were just putting together our vinyl as a band. And I said, There’s a guy at a label whose job it is to do this, and we’re having a creative experience doing it. As opposed to when I was young. It was like, Here’s your record, here’s the layout. Do we have to be on the record cover for Move Along? Yeah, you look good. Really? Because our first record was this cool go-kart that was from my childhood pasture. And it expressed something about where we were as a band, where we come from—Oklahoma—in a dirt road, go-kart kind of thing. Americana for the All-American Rejects. And then the second record, there was a shift. We went over to Interscope Records.
Read the full article here