I recently caught up with Joby Harris of Christian indie/punk supergroup Crash Rickshaw, for what turned out to be a rather enlightening (and lengthy) interview. What’s the story behind their decade-long hiatus? And why reconvene now?
IVM: It’s been 24 years since the Crash Rickshaw debut, and 9 years since any last recorded music (only 10 copies made of The Unknown Clarity). Why the long wait, and what prompted the return?
JH: We made the first Crash album at a prime time of being young, highly creative, knee-deep in a great music scene in Southern California and big dreams of doing that kind of thing forever. Then life happens: we all established legit careers. The guys had families and we embraced all that life requires of growing older and more mature. But what never changed was our friendship. So, I’d let the guys know when we got tiny royalties from the first album – like 20 bucks. And we’d all go get dinner with it and catch up. Our desire to keep creating was always there with a commitment to spend our money on recording sessions even if no one heard the jams. We knew we became the best versions of ourselves when we were in a studio creating together. Even though our creative process is remote and in pieces – we all get credit for writing. Contribution and value isn’t a one-way street with us. No one’s out of focus in the background of the band photos if you know what I mean. We love creating together and each gives their best.
I guess it was the resurgence of a lot of the bands we liked listening to beginning to play shows and festivals again and release new albums that we thought about doing the same. It seems like old bands doing new releases was welcomed and wanted. So, we agreed to put some money into creating an EP, and really make it as good as we could including renting quality studio time. It was about investing in what we loved and what made us feel like we were fulfilling a purpose and love with no clue as to what the end result would be. I think that took pressure off of us and it fed our creativity more. Even lyrically I had no agenda. No message I wanted to convey. For the first time I [just] wanted to sing about something I was angry or happy about or something fun. Randy told me it was my best writing. The most real. I think we were all surprised by the next level of these new songs. So much so that Steve gave them to Jeff at Velvet Blue and he immediately wanted to give them life. We’re very grateful.
IVM: We know what Steven Dail has been up to (staying very busy with various other bands, that’s what!), but what have Alex Albert and Joby Harris been up to in the last few years? Are you still doing design work?
JH: Alex is by far the busiest guy with an amazing family. But Alex has taken a life of handling the merch for bands into a full career and being one of the top importer/exporter of materials for clothing lines on the west coast working for Vans, Stance etc. Steve has a family and works for his uncle who is an insanely talented architect in Asia. Randy is an accomplished sound designer and works on an award-winning team while jumping back and forth from LA to Joshua tree with his wife. I’m an art director at NASA JPL surrounding missions with design and art. We’re all very busy but we make time. We invest in each other and want to do what we love. Music.
IVM: Yeah, I see that Randy Torres has been added to the band. When and how did that come about?
JH: We added Randy immediately after the first album. He was like “you guys are having way too much fun. I want in. Randy was heavily involved in playing on and producing our second album. We pulled [him in] to polish [it] a bit more. I’m hoping we can get that one out and very one can hear his contribution.
IVM: What drew you guys to playing music together in the first place?
JH: We were all heavily involved in the music scene in Southern California. It’s what the song “Sugar Shack” is about. Every weekend there were 3 or 4 shows and if you weren’t playing one, [then] in one of your 3 bands you were going to support. I was playing in a punk band and emo band as a background singer and guitarist so I hung with them a lot in many parking lots as they waited their turn to headline a show. They stayed with me while they recorded their first project album in Burbank California. I was living there working at Disney. That’s when Steve and Alex and I always talked about the same influences like Fugazi and Drive Like Jehu, so at the peak success of Project 86 we decided to just create some songs along those lines. We gave a 3-song demo tape to Brandon [Ebel, of Tooth & Nail, -ed.] and he signed us immediately. Our first album was still one of the most raw creative projects we’d ever done. We essentially wrote the album as we recorded it. Some may say it shows–haha, but we did it.
IVM: You mentioned the song “Sugar Shack.” The song seems to be a nostalgic tune about hanging out with friends in Huntington Beach, and yet it sounds slightly angry/bitter. Is that just the genre of the music, or is there a deeper story behind the seemingly pleasant lyrics juxtaposed with the dark sound?
JH: That place was a huge part of my life. I lived in L.A. but drove there every weekend first for a music scene, shows and hangs every weekend. Then of course got into a relationship there too so was often considering moving there because so many of my relationships were there. But my career took off and demanded I be in L.A. The guys are from Irvine and Steve and Alex still live there so when we get together it’s a stop in the OC. I will say I don’t agree with where the city has taken a turn politically or socially. I love the daytime in Huntington, the complete beach culture. But the night can be rough. I mean they had that white boy riot in the streets years ago during a skate fest for no reason other than dudes just wanting to impress girls, so there’s that. But so many memories were us meeting at Sugar Shack on Saturdays, no matter how late you were up to refresh the weekend. So many kids in the scene had jobs there too so it was a mainstay. That’s why the song is called “Sugar Shack.”
IVM: Is one of the band members the primary driver to writing and recording songs (either lyrically or musically)? At what point do the other members come into the process? Or is it more of a collaborative process?
JH: We sort of established a creative process that generally involves Steve writing music with Alex. They text or email me a demo. I’ll sit on the tracks for a few weeks and write melodies and lyrics. We book studio time with friends to record the guitars and drums legit. Then I do vocals in Hollywood at my friend Wayne Miller’s studio. Sometimes they have no idea what I’m going to sing until I send back the recording. They give me notes and I go back in for a few sessions to redo or correct. Then we send everything to Randy to polish. He has such a great ear he has said – that one doesn’t need anything. Or he’ll add guitar parts. I will occasionally bring a song in full to the guys playing guitar parts but it’s mostly Steve bringing the core of songs together. Then, we send it to mix and master and call it a decade.
IVM: I love the clarity of the production on Big Sir, and how it enhances the band’s raw sound rather than limiting/trying to polish it too much. Do you want to comment on the production process?
JH: Yeah, we loved our first album and even recorded it in an expensive studio owned by our producer’s dad. We had access to the very best but we were all kids trying to play with a Ferrari. Our first album sounded a bit indie – things were mixed different for a rock album. This time we wanted to just go straight rock and be what we are. We wasted no time renting studio time with my friend Dave at his Newport Beach studio. Just unreal the vibes! We recorded drums there. Steve recorded guitars with Jason Martin at his studio so those were crisp and legit and hit really great. I was excited to know Jason wanted to even be a small part in it. I recorded vocals in the heart of Hollywood, California at Selma Studios with Wayne G Miller.
We invested in quality this time and kept the mixing to not being arty. Let’s just sound good. Steve wanted a 90s grunge vibe and even brought in the shoegaze vibes, which is new for us.
IVM: Crash Rickshaw has been affiliated with the Christian scene. What does that mean to you and/or what role does expressing faith play in the band through music, lyrics and/or performances?
JH: I know faith is important to me personally and to a few of the other guys. And [it shows up] in the lyrics I write because it’s what I know. This album though is from a perspective of being on the wrong side of those who will use faith as a means to discard you or cast you out as invaluable simply for acting with authenticity that didn’t seem to coincide with their plans.
It’s easy to allow other individuals who perhaps hurt you, to control the narrative and paint a picture of your contribution or value associated with them as “not up to par” or worse—as an enemy. The lyrics just speak about owning your own value, the value God gives you, owning your voice (the one God gives you), and finding your own path that can speak for itself.
I (Joby) was shown the door/exit of a faith community I’d been a part of and given everything to for 22 years simply because I chose to speak into something I thought was not healthy. I had conviction about something, saw a lot of damage being done and decided to speak into it with a heart of humility and a desire to help fix it but they didn’t want to hear it. All they heard was “us vs them” and I was the them. This unceremonious exit involving cold shouldering and being cut off from things and people I was connected to was the biggest thing to a divorce I’d ever experienced. It’s easy to get angry when that happens—especially at God because the result of doing what God convicted me to do ended up in pain and separation and getting ousted by people I thought cared about me and [I thought] at least would allow me to have a voice. But they made it clear ‘your voice isn’t wanted here’—no matter how much I invested and gave to the community over 2 decades. The problem, is I believed their narrative more than my own—that my voice had no value, or worse, [that I] deserved punishment. I had trouble separating their voice from God’s voice but that was the problem and why I actually needed to leave. I allowed them to be louder than myself about the value of my voice, even referring to me leaving as “pruning” (spiritual language) . . . as if the entity couldn’t be healthy with me attached so I had to be cut off in order for the entity to be healthy. Like I was a dead branch only good for a fire.
The lyrics are about taking back the narrative and owning one’s value . . . that the pruning was actually God pruning them from me—because I wasn’t growing being attached to them. As the lyrics state, “dead” branches when they burn send embers to the sky. Those embers land on their mansions and ignite. Faith is very important to me and the only thing that has kept me from spiraling into a pit of anger and apathy. I know the guys in the band have all matured and found their own paths with God that is different than when we first started on a spiritual journey.
With Big Sir I think we’ve approached this album and music from a place of contentment and confidence that has allowed us to simply have fun, be grateful for our lives/what we get to do, and to celebrate what we’ve done and enjoy. This approach is highly spiritual and I know connects me more to God than anything. I can’t imagine doing anything creative without God informing it. Just seems like this time it’s more human and more lived than an actual message to preach.
IVM: Wow, I’m sorry you went through all of that. I can certainly relate to going through really difficult scenarios, dealt by those who claimed to know the Lord. It sounds like you’re processing all of that at a really healthy level. What has helped you find hope or strength since leaving that behind? What positive steps have you taken, or what advice would you give to someone facing something similar?
JH: I would say with all that happened I had to come to the realization of a few things. I had to reject any desire to seek revenge or shoot back with a smear campaign to the ones who hurt me or cast me out. It’s easy to want to complain and make your case to as many as possible but it was actually healthier to simple step away and find myself. Deep down amidst the garbage move on their part, I really was grateful for the good years and investment from my time in the community.
And the more I thought about it was a coward act from pastors who deep down were afraid of losing their jobs if they took on my perspective. They had mortgages to pay, influence, popularity, [they] were traveling—they had a thing they didn’t want to compromise so conviction gets lost in that. I had to understand that human element to it all.
Ultimately, I realized I had wasted 7 years being angry and not stepping back into community which can be so valuable. That was no different than wasting 4 hours on TikTok when you have things to do. Choices to make. Life to live. They had no idea the prison I held myself in by being angry. They had power over me without even knowing it. So, I worked hard to forgive them and the situation and use the opportunity to stand on my own and carve out the next chapter of who I am, what it looks like to love myself, love others and love God who ultimately helps you with those things.
It’s actually foolish to judge the source by the abuse. We’re all poor ambassadors of what we believe. I do feel bad for church leaders though as they are held to a higher standard and often are in a position where they need their job, influence, platform and brand so much that it clouds their conviction. You have a mortgage to pay so standing up to the lead pastor isn’t an option sometimes. That may sound harsh but it’s the lens I had to see through to have grace and forgive them and move on. I get it.
I’m reminded by God to not over-complicate things: love myself, love others, love God. Allow Him to inform those two things and do it as genuinely, truthfully and compassionately as possible.
That’s it. Everything else is dogma, flexes, and stalemate.
IVM: That’s some great advice. Thanks for taking the time to talk to me.
