You guys are notorious for insane live shows. More than a decade in, has it been hard to keep your energy up night after night?
You know, it’s interesting, I was looking at some old footage, because we’re trying to do a DVD with the old singer and our old band members, and I was thinking, “Wow, this is going to be crazy! This is when we were crazy.” And I watched it, and compared to now it was so tame. I didn’t expect to look at these videos and see a tamer band—kind of like a Dillinger lite. I couldn’t believe it. You’d think after this many years we’d slow down. But we’re so much crazier now than we’ve ever been. The energy and the stage presence and the passion are even more intense now than ever.
Does that put pressure on the band to live up to audience expectations?
Yeah, it has. That’s almost been the curse—the fact that from the very start we pushed ourselves so far and pushed the limits so far in so many ways, that people expect so much from us all the time. I remember touring with a band that just stood onstage, and one guy I think sat in a chair and said to us afterward, “You guys are so energetic and you put so much into the shows, and we just kind of sit there and don’t have any presence.” And I’m like, “Yeah, but you guys are doing really well, and people expect that from you guys. They want to hear the record note to note from you guys, and you should stick with it. Because I’m in a situation where if I wanted to do that, I couldn’t, because people would probably want their money back.”
From broken bones to paralyzing car accidents, the years have taken a toll on DEP. How has that changed the band?
Well, sometimes it’s hard, you know. When I look at the guys, and some of them are younger than me and have been in the band less than me, I say, “You think this is hard, think about it for me.” I mean, I’ve been abusing myself for 11 years, and I’m still out here giving it my all. Maybe it’s because if I stopped doing it, I couldn’t do it anymore. For me it’s because I can’t stand still. I have a lot of injuries. I’ve had surgery on my shoulder. I’ve got fucked-up knees. I’ve got fucked-up shins. I’ve got a broken bone in my neck. I’ve broken my two feet, a couple fingers, three ribs. I’ve had staples in my head and stitches all over my face. But at the same time, I couldn’t go up onstage and do it any other way. If I couldn’t do it that way, I wouldn’t do it at all.
With The Bled, Heavy Heavy Low Low, Secrets Kept in Suicide. April 13, 7 p.m., $16.50. Canyon Club, 385-4011.