by Loaded Editors

Nerds, Guitars, and Teenage Dirtbags

The Glorious Oddity of Wheatus
Nerds, Guitars, and Teenage Dirtbags

Nerds, Guitars, and Teenage Dirtbags: The Glorious Oddity of Wheatus

By Fred Spanner

They weren’t the coolest kids in school, and they sure as hell didn’t look like rock stars. But back in the early 2000s, Wheatus crash-landed onto the charts like a gang of geeky misfits with a chip on their shoulder and a song that made every angsty teenager scream "I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby!" and mean it. Wheatus didn’t just embrace awkward, they weaponised it.

Loaded caught up with lead singer Brendan B. Brown as he was preparing for an 18-date UK and Ireland tour to celebrate the 25th anniversary of their massive debut album. 

Yes, nerdcore is still very much alive. We discuss boring setlists, Bruce Dickinson, and…Barry Manilow.

Brendan is currently at HQ in the Bronx, NYC, and looking quite content with life.Teenage Dirtbag was released 25 years ago to this day, 

Wheatus has been going for over thirty years now. Do you ever think, way back then, that people would still be falling over themselves to see you live?.

“It’s really wonderful. I think we might be the luckiest band to ever play music. We made all the right mistakes early on, and pissed off all the right people. We own the publishing to our catalogue, we didn’t get into any bad management deals, no one wound up with their hand in our pocket, and I think that’s how we’ve been able to do this without submerging.

“It’s an interesting story, and I’ve long given up working out where it’s heading next. There are lots of surprises all the time.”

I think the older generation today isn’t ready to throw in the towel and grow old gracefully. We still want to enjoy ourselves and listen to both old and new music from our favourite artists.

“I agree. It’s very different from when I was a kid. There was a group of people who would say that music ended with Led Zeppelin and Cream, and nothing else was worth listening to. And that’s why we rebelled. These are the same people who wrote off Nirvana, the Grunge movement, and the post-punk movement. 

“Interestingly, the modern nostalgia movement isn’t like that. You get Chappell Roan absolutely nailing the hell out of Heart’s Barracuda on stage, at the same time as she’s innovating pop and rock in a completely novel way. I think there’s room for everybody at this nostalgia table. 

“I just found out about a UK band called Panic Shack. Do they have elements of the punk band Crass from back in the day? Yes, but they also have a modern take on feminism, relationships, and stuff. So, the kids are doing way better than we might believe. It’s not your old, grumpy exclusivity. It’s a new nostalgia that incorporates the future as well.”

You’ve always had a fondness for UK bands. Have you discovered any new ones recently?

“Oh, yes, all the time. I’m discovering about three or four bands a day on streaming services, and it’s hard work keeping up as there’s so much brilliant music coming out. Kate Nash just dropped a song called Germ that I think is the great song of this summer. That thing hits hard. It speaks the truth, and a lot of people aren’t going to like it, but fuck ‘em!

“I love Kneecap. They drag the keepers of the gates into the sunlight and show everyone what they’re about. That’s what you do. It’s what music has always done. You can go back to Beethoven. He pissed everybody off. I think things are getting better, not worse, in terms of the younger generation. They’re taking risks and really going out there and addressing stuff. Pussy Riot took risks too, but it’s hard to imagine anyone braver than Kneecap right now. Who cares how many records they sell?”

Let’s talk about a song called Teenage Dirtbag. Ring any bells?

“Haha, yes. Well, I wrote it in 1995, and by then I’d been in enough NYC bands to know that it took more than just a song to go somewhere. I was a bit of a sceptic. I was also a little afraid, cos I really liked it. I knew that it was an odd song, and it was too long. It also had this breakdown in the middle where I changed characters. It was a bit quirky. By definition, not really a single.

“I didn’t really suspect what was on the horizon with regard to the gun lyric. That turned out to be the biggest problem they had with it. So, I was a bit apprehensive after I’d written it, thinking ‘what if something really bad happens to this tune?’ So protecting it and keeping the wolves at bay for long enough was a priority.

“For that reason, we didn’t invite anybody from the industry to our shows. No showcases, no A&R guys. “Fuck them,” we thought. We invited friends and family, and those we heard singing our songs outside. We had to be careful because in New York City, you get one chance to build an audience. If you overplay or stretch things too thinly, you’re done. 

“We only played once every three months or so. We made sure there was a party and presented it as a night out. I’d been in bands that were involved with big record companies previously, and I didn't contact a single one of those for Wheatus. I kept them all away from it until it became a thing because I was so apprehensive about wasting this music.

“As you know, there have been many beautiful records made that never saw the light of day because of this sort of thing. Too many cooks spoil the broth.”

The timing of the release of Teenage Dirtbag didn’t help matters, I guess?

“What happened was that we released the record on the anniversary of the Columbine shooting. It was topical, but maybe we should have given it to them later or earlier. But we wanted to get it into the system, so we could play it on the road. They told us that Walmart wouldn’t take the record because it had an explicit gun lyric. That’s the same Walmart that sells semi-automatic weapons. You can sell a gun, but in the next aisle, you can’t sell a CD that talks about a gun.

“It was preposterous, and that was the first controversy that came up. Because we refused to change that lyric the record label thought we were pains in the ass. We had to fight for every opportunity after that. The more we realised that the folk who were servicing the record didn’t really know about music, the more we focused inward, and on our band relationship.

“We thought we needed to make this global now. That’s when we started to piss off all the right people, but we did leave a few big opportunities on the table.”

The song has been covered by so many people, including Girls Aloud and One Direction, but I think I’ve got just the guy to do it proper justice: Barry Manilow.

“Oh, man. What an honour that would be. You’ve just knocked my socks off a little bit there. Haha. I always thought Robbie Williams would have done a good job.” 

Your debut album was recorded in your mum’s basement. Was that the best choice at the time?

“It was the ONLY choice at the time. We recorded it in a room with smeared plaster walls, in a basement with a concrete floor. It was a room where my brother and I grew up playing music. We were amateurs, but we knew just enough to get over the goalpost, I think. People who heard the record thought it sounded great, and David Thoener did a fantastic job of mixing it.''

“I think it was a stroke of luck and some naivety. We were going at it with Popsicle sticks and glue, but we learned a lot from it. It had a charm, and it worked. My mother’s house turned out to be the best place to make that record.”

I like the fact that there are so many different stories going on.

“They’re little salty vignettes. In Hump Em and Dump Em, I thought let’s go into full dystopian mode. What if Clark Kent couldn’t pay his rent, and his landlord wasn’t fussed about him being a hero? Like that disillusioned moment in America when Bill Clinton should have been impeached.”

Punk Ass Bitch was also used for a Jackie Chan cartoon. They changed the lyrics to ‘Chan’s The Man’. I think they should have stuck with the original.

“Haha. Well, I didn’t write that one. That was our bass player at the time. We had a rule that if you wrote a song, you could get it on the album if you told everyone else what to do. When we came to record it, I asked Rich what he wanted me to do. He told me to go home.

“I always sing the Jackie Chan version live these days, as I don’t really understand the impetus of the lyrics, so I don’t think it would be authentic of me to sing that track.”

What on earth is the story behind Love Is a Mutt From Hell?

“There are two relationships going on in that song. It’s loosely based on the inspiration for the song Leroy, a guy whom I knew from back in the day. The second verse is about a friend of mine; an artist whose mother had died, and she was in her first relationship. They were living together, and she was starting to become a bit disillusioned by it. 

“The original thoughts behind it came from a book that was passed around in high school called Love is a Dog From Hell, by Charles Bukowski. He put that screwball feeling into something that is otherwise heavily emotional, and helped me to deal with it. You know, love sucks sometimes.”

Your touring schedule is hectic. How do you manage it?

“When we went to Europe for the first time, they gave us a choice. They said you can play 35 smaller venues or 7 gigantic venues, and we took the smaller ones. I’m so glad we did that. We do sometimes play big shows and festivals in the States, but we like the shows to be intimate. The next one is a bit different. They’re slightly bigger rooms than we’ve been playing in for the past 25 years. The finale is opening for Bowling For Soup at Wembley Arena.

“Before that, you’ll get our show, which is completely controlled by us. We don’t consult a management team or the nostalgia police about how we do it. We learn 60 to 80 songs, and we let the crowd call the shots. We don’t walk on the stage with a set list. We play 25 tracks or so, and we don’t know what’s going to happen when we get out there. It’s so much more fun.”

You mentioned Bowling For Soup there. You guys go way back, don't you?

“Oh, yeah, we first toured with them in 2007, and we had just narrowly avoided each other before then. It turned out that when we started talking to them about things, we had such similar trajectories. They were in between the metal and the pop punk, too. The result was that no one really wanted to fuck with them; there weren’t a lot of support opportunities and they were always on their own, like us.

“To this day, aside from festivals, we have never supported another act overseas. We bonded with Bowling For Soup over that, as they had a very similar experience. They had to fabricate their own custom career, everything else having failed. When the PR guys and the management guys with snake eyes don’t know what to do anymore, you have to figure it out yourself. I have to say, their custom career is working out pretty well!

“Jaret is essentially like Johnny Carson in that he can play guitar and sing like a demon. He’s a true entertainer, and I’ve always believed that if every piece of equipment failed at one of their shows, you could hand him a microphone and he’d still smash the show.”

You take requests on tour. How does that work? Pulp did a similar thing when I saw them on tour recently.

“Jarvis is a fucking genius, man. For my money, he and Richard Ashcroft are the best of that whole generation of singers. 

“We never play anything that the audience hasn’t called. Sometimes I’ll ask if I can have one if there are too many high songs in a row. What we do is we set up our own gear, and do our own tech. I’m walking around before the show, plugging things in.  While that process is happening, I’ll swing by the audience and ask them what songs they want played. 

“You can tell from their faces that they’re real fans and they genuinely care about the songs. They’re expecting to be asked, cos we’ve been doing this since about 2007. Then, when I come out I’ll be like, “Joe right here wanted to here Hump Em And Dump Em first,” and off we go. 

“This shows that we’re actively asking the crowd what the first song is, as we’re setting up our gear. This has created a tremendous vibe in all of our shows. Some bands play the same setlist night after night. I think that’s fucking boring. Work harder, make the ticket worth it, and give the audience what they want. What if they’re not in the mood for your choice? If they had a shitty day, your ‘sunshine’ song isn’t going to work out.”

At least you have a backup plan now. If your voice is going by the time someone wants you to play Teenage Dirtbag, you simply say, “Ladies and Gentlemen…Mr Barry Manilow!”

“Haha! Genius. Now, it’ll be my goal to get Bruce Dickinson and Barry Manilow on the stage together. That’s really tight. 

AC/DC is my favourite band. I was Angus for Halloween last year. I’ve learned every fucking note. I’m insane about them. I refuse to miss them if I’m not on the road. I’ve seen them about eight times now.

“I love Iron Maiden just as much. Bruce Dickinson jumped on the stage and played with us once, and he played on Wannabe Gangster. Now, if you can tell me I can get Bruce Dickinson and Barry Manilow in the same room…

“If you ever interview him, let him know. I don’t have a manager you need to talk to, and I’m ready to work.”

How do you find the fans in the UK?

“You know, the further you go north, the wilder they are. We play for longer, and we play faster. By the time we’re in Scotland, it’s like, “You’re in fucking Glasgow now. Let’s do this!!!””

Check out Wheatus.com for the latest news.