#in which I sing Anchors Aweigh at them every morning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

perfectirishgifts · 4 years ago

Text

Sing Along Forever: The Bouncing Souls Enter Their Fifties And Fatherhood—Together

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/sing-along-forever-the-bouncing-souls-enter-their-fifties-and-fatherhood-together/

Sing Along Forever: The Bouncing Souls Enter Their Fifties And Fatherhood—Together

The Bouncing Souls, 2020—COURTESY OF THE ARTIST

Bryan Kienlen and his wife, Nicole, have a new routine. When they first wake up, they give bottles to their babies, Cora and Layla. And before taking on their daily tasks, they dedicate quality time for cuddling, crawling and playing.

“All four of us have this really beautiful morning,” 51-year-old Kienlen says. “It’s how I start every day. It’s the coolest thing.”

Twenty years ago, The Bouncing Souls bassist often spent his golden hour stumbling home from a night of partying in New York City, groggy and regretful as commuters drank coffee and made their way to work.

Bryan Kienlen walks on the boardwalk with his family. New Jersey, November, 2020

But decades removed from his period of downtown debauchery, the domesticated punk has found stability and serenity through his 30-year musical journey, as a successful tattoo shop owner and as a family man. He says being a father and “giver” is the greatest thing he’s ever done.

“You find how rewarding it is,” Kienlen explains. “There’s such a stark difference from being a ‘band guy.’ When I was a young, single maniac writing songs and touring—I didn’t realize until I could see things from my current perspective—but I was more self-centered. Everything revolved around me. Now, that stage of my life is over and I’m here to serve and take care of my kids and my wife. And I’m so happy with that. It’s not all about me anymore, in a good way.”

A lot has changed for The Bouncing Souls, the cult-followed New Jersey punk band which formed when Kienlen, vocalist Greg Attonito and guitarist Pete Steinkopf were high schoolers in Basking Ridge, NJ.

In the 90s, the band lived in chaos at a series of “punk houses,” each complete with a revolving door of ill-behaved 20-somethings, drunks and miscreants.

The Bouncing Souls, 2001 (Photo by Mick Hutson/Redferns)

Today, Kienlen and Steinkopf have settled down in New Jersey, whereas Attonito set up shop in small-town Idaho. And miraculously—as all three musicians have entered their fifties—they’ve all, almost simultaneously, become fathers.

But much has stayed the same, too. Last year, the band celebrated its 30th anniversary by touring North America and England, performing songs from the guys’ 10 full-length albums and newest EP Crucial Moments. Three of the four original members remain, save for the role of drummer. George Rebelo, from popular Florida rock band Hot Water Music, joined in 2013.

And 2020, with its own unique set of circumstances, has encouraged the Souls to appreciate the past while embracing the new in both their musical and personal lives.

In October, the band released Volume 2, a record of reimagined songs ranging from the group’s newest single, appropriately titled “World on Fire,” back to fan-favorite “Gone,” from the 2001 album How I Spent My Summer Vacation. And on Saturday, December 12, the band will be hosting a livestream performance of the album in a digital concert called Live at Studio 4.

While the group didn’t expect an internet broadcast to replace its annual Asbury Park Home For The Holidays residency, Volume 2 itself was born under precarious timing.

Bouncing Souls, Live At Studio 4, Saturday December 12, 8PM ET

Recorded in March during two one-week sessions in Philadelphia, the band completed the record just as America was blindsided by COVID-19. As time passed in the studio, the threat of the oncoming pandemic quickly went from negligible to worrisome.

“When we first went in the studio, I’d just heard the murmurings of coronavirus,” 50-year-old Steinkopf says. “I was like, ‘What the f*** is that?’”

“The second week was more intense,” 50-year-old Attonito adds. “The restaurant above the studio closed on our last day. The crazy thing about it was, we were having such a positive experience. We were joking about how we were spontaneously creating from our old songs that we love and the world simultaneously was cinching in with dark gloom. Those last couple of days, we didn’t want to leave our bubble of happiness. We knew we were walking into this chaos of the unknown.”

The Bouncing Souls with producer Will Yip, March 2020, Philadelphia

“Even the week that things were getting really weird, we were hyper-focused and trying to stay off our phones,” Steinkopf says. “But every now and then, someone would be like, ‘Did you see this!?’ What the f*** is happening?!’”

Despite the impending doom, the Souls found the studio sessions to be fruitful. The band was able to recompose classic tracks, breathing new and unexpected life into staples and providing previously underappreciated songs with a second chance.

Attonito was able to sing from a more mature and controlled vocal perspective—leaving the guttural belting for the next fast-paced punk record—allowing him to put a new spin on songs he’s chanted thousands of times.

Steinkopf was able to give a nod to the 80s tunes that inspire him, drawing energy from bands like The Cure, rather than focusing on a checklist of sing-a-longs and “woah-oh-ohs.”

The band was even able to squeeze in some silly instrumentation, using a “cheesy” 80s Casio keyboard and toy instruments on the song “Hopeless Romantic.” At Kienlen’s burning request, they even incorporated a french horn into “Favorite Everything.”

But as the recording sessions wrapped up, the band scrambled to make travel arrangements to get home to their families.

“Everybody said goodbye,” Kienlen says. “And the world was never the same.”

The guys returned to their homes in New Jersey, Idaho and Florida. They kept in touch, but were just as anxious as the rest of the country.

Steinkopf and Kienlen, Anchors Aweigh Tattoo Studio

Kienlen, like many other Americans, was forced to close his tattoo shop in Bradley Beach, NJ, Anchors Aweigh Tattoo Studio, for three months as the battle against COVID-19 took a stranglehold of the Northeast.

In the mountains 100 miles north of Boise, Attonito’s small resort town felt seemingly unchanged at the onset of the pandemic. But in the red state of Idaho, many remained resistant to masks, even as a surge of tourists in RVs flooded the area and caused a spike of positive cases.

Early on, Attonito felt depressed that band-life was on hold. Eventually, he started becoming conscious of mask-wearing in his dreams. And Steinkopf began to realize how much he missed the things he used to take for granted.

“Someone sent me a Souls show from a long time ago,” Steinkopf says. “I was watching it and I got real emo about it. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t go out and do as much these days, and now I’m like, ‘Man, I’m gonna go do everything when I can again!’”

But, in the meantime, the band adapted and found creative outlets to keep the spirit of the Souls alive. They started holding weekly Zoom meetings to catch up and launched the Can You Remember? podcast via Patreon, an endeavor they wouldn’t have pursued otherwise.

And along with their new projects, the guys are beginning to see a tentative semblance of “new normalcy.” Steinkopf is back producing in the studio again and Kienlen is booked up with tattoo appointments well into 2021.

While the band is glad to feel productive and are eager to return to live music, they recognize what a unique opportunity the pandemic has offered them as new fathers.

Kienlen and his wife adopted their first baby, Cora, as a newborn in December of last year.

Bryan Kienlen with his wife, Nicole, and daughter, Cora — December 2019

“At the time, I had one new baby, whom I hadn’t had the chance to bond with because we adopted,” Kienlen explains. “One day, you go from no baby to baby in your house, real fast. I still had touring through the end of the year and was booked out with [tattoo] appointments every other day that I wasn’t on tour. We never had a paternal leave or hardly a maternal leave, either. It was pretty difficult. When the lockdown happened it was a blessing for us because we got to stay home with her and truly bond every day.”

Then Kienlen went from having one baby to two babies just as quickly. In October, less than a year from Cora’s adoption, the couple was contacted with the opportunity to adopt a second child: a seven-month-old who they named Layla.

Kienlen and his daughter, Layla — October 2020

“We got that call on a Wednesday afternoon out of the blue,” he explains. “We picked her up that Friday. Talk about no time to plan! We scrambled to play catch-up a little. But I think we’re finally settling into a groove.”

While the couple were definitely hoping to adopt a second child so Cora would have a sibling, they were pleasantly surprised by the timing.

“We expected to wait a year or two,” Kienlen says. “That’s generally how long it takes. But I’m glad that it happened this way because they’re gonna be in the same grade. It couldn’t be better.”

Attonito and Steinkopf have also enjoyed their time home with their children. At the end of their conference call interview with Forbes, Attonito was adorably approached by his son, asking to say hello to “Uncie Pete.”

“If you’re gonna be locked down in a pandemic,” Attonito says. “You may as well be in a period where your child is under two or three years old, the most valuable moments to be with them all the time. In that sense, the timing is pretty good for all of us.”

Uncle Bryan & Lux — 2019

Fortuitous timing is just one example of the kindred connection between the members of The Bouncing Souls. Not only did they all enter their fifties together—Attonito and Steinkopf just days apart—but fatherhood, too.

Around three years ago, Attonito and his wife, Shanti, welcomed their baby boy, Ever. A few months later, Steinkopf and his wife, Keira, birthed their son, Lux.

“Serendipitous is a good word,” Kienlen says. “It describes the entire existence of our band. None of us had brothers growing up. Maybe on some deep level we found each other and bonded into a family and stayed together for life as brothers.”

They’re already growing together as parents, too, both in their capacity to love and overcome their fears.

“You could say a million things about having a child,” Attonito says. “But it pushes your capacity to look outside yourself and take care of someone. It pushes you to those limits in a way that, I don’t think, you can possibly experience without having a child.”

Greg Attonito with his wife, Shanti, and son, Ever

He continues: “I’m so glad I waited until I was in my late forties. The idea of having a child terrified me to no end. I felt like I would never be there for them. I’d be on tour all the time, that would be the worst. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy one or the other. I’m so glad it worked out the way it did. The fact that we’re all sharing this at the same time has been super special.”

“I was always the most terrified to have a child,” Steinkopf agrees. “I don’t know if it was the people I was with, my relationships or just being a selfish young guy. I would’ve been a s*** dad [laughs]. At this point in my life it just felt totally right. You spend your whole life being introspective and learning about yourself, but as soon as you have a kid, that’s magnified by a thousand. You think about your past, how you don’t want to impose stuff on your kid. It’s heady, but your heart is so f***ing full all the time. The most frustrating day now is like the best day I’ve ever had.”

Shanti, Ever & Greg Attonito — Pete, Lux & Keira Steinkopf

And the punks are embracing full-blown adulthood with sarcastic charm. Steinkopf insists he’s never felt better, as he and the singer offer a collective tongue-in-cheek, “F*** you, I’m 50!”

It’s the same self-assured confidence that the band tapped into while reconstructing classic Souls songs. While many were picked fairly arbitrarily, the group did make an effort to develop tracks on the basis of lyrics they felt were overlooked.

Take “Argyle,” off the 1996 album Maniacal Laughter, which was written by Attonito, but admired by Kienlen for its words. While the singer calls it a personal song that was “definitely written from the perspective of a mid-20s-year-old person,” he’s glad his bassist pushed to include it.

Another throwback featured on Volume 2, “Say Anything,” dates back to the band’s 1997 self-titled record. The Bouncing Souls was released just as the band’s collective lifestyle of punk house squalor came to a close.

Attonito, 1995 (Photo Steve Eichner)

“It’s well romanticized because it had moments of glory and moments of pure annoyance,” Attonito says laughing. “There’s a motivation there that’s sort’ve unexplainable. Once you hit your forties, you’re like, ‘How did I hold up?’”

Steinkopf adds: “It’s just like chaos, but it was chaos in a way that we were so f***ing motivated to do everything. We were gonna print shirts. Do this, do that—all together. It was intoxicating.”

Looking back, Attonito sees the era as a wave of energy and focus that propelled the band into a lifetime of performing. The first decade of insanity and perseverance allowed for an actual career in music.

Bryan Kienlen (L), Greg Attonito (R) of The Bouncing Souls, 1995, Wetlands in New York City (Photo … [] by Steve Eichner)

While most of The Bouncing Souls may have taken a step back from the craziness in 1997, it took Kienlen a few more years. As all the members moved to New York, then moved on, their bassist remained and kept the “party” going the longest.

While recording Volume 2, he was able to revisit three songs he wrote during a tumultuous time, a rough patch that served as the blueprint to the band’s beloved 2003 release, Anchors Aweigh.

“Highway Kings,” “Kids and Heroes,” and “Simple Man,” all made the new record—and reignited feelings in the studio. They were also given a second chance musically.

“‘Simple Man’ was written in a pretty dark place for me,” Kienlen says. “It was a prayer to the universe for simplicity back in the middle of what was a bit of a storm in my personal life. To revisit some of those lyrics, I felt more like the returning conqueror. I’d survived. Now I can face these songs from a happier place.”

But when Kienlen first penned many of the songs to Anchors Aweigh, he wasn’t just experiencing love-life woes, but a “major life turn.”

“A whole reality was ending basically,” he says. “It wasn’t just a relationship, it was an entire reality that I had built around the relationship. It all just ended instantly and I was set free. But it was just me and my demons all of a sudden and no governing force.”

The bassist describes it as the perfect storm of a single guy who’s going through changes with nothing but time and cash in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. He went out and partied every night until the following day. He’d get going around 10:00PM, then leave bars and afterparties as the sun came up, feeling like a “ghoul.”

“It was the darkest I’ve ever felt,” Kienlen explains. “I was the most depressed I’ve ever felt in my life. Then, the following night it would just start again. Any happiness was produced by substances and all the other shallow crap that goes with that life. Night after night. You’d get so high and so happy, but not really. Not real happiness. When you heard that first bird chirping, that’s when you realized you f***ed up again.”

Bryan Kienlen of The Bouncing Souls plays before several thousand at the Vans Warped Tour, 2001, … [] Ventura, CA (Photo by Carlos Chavez/Los Angeles Times)

He continues: “And the things I was doing were definitely gonna get me killed. I was riding my motorcycle up the FDR [Parkway] going 120 miles per hour—that f***ing high—in the middle of the night with whoever on the back that I could’ve killed. It was just insane.”

Kienlen frequently hosted afterparties at his own apartment, too. As cliché as it sounds, he usually felt alone in a room full of people.

“All the good stuff was gone,” he explains. “All my friends were just fellow ghouls—nightlife people. I felt pretty alone. Being apart from Greg and Pete during this was also part of the despair that I was feeling. That’s when I wrote ‘Simple Man’—probably about six in the morning on a park bench. Just one of those nights.”

Bryan Kienlen, 2006 (Photo by John Shearer)

After 15 years of living in New York City, from squatting to a city-subsidized apartment in Alphabet City, Kienlen decided to abandon the F Train and return to New Jersey living.

He’d fallen out of love with his gentrifying neighborhood and was sick of his own behavior. He also mourned the loss of the Old New York punk scene he once so enjoyed. The days of brown-bagging beer on his BMX bike and bouncing from CBGBs to Coney Island High to The Continental were over.

For years, the Jersey-born transplant never imagined leaving New York City, but his Anchors Aweigh turning point was critical to an end-game he never imagined: a house, a wife, two kids, a dog and his own business. The album’s cover, as always designed by Kienlen, is symbolic: a ship sailing off into the dark distance, marking the end of a chapter.

In that regard, it’s suitable that so many tracks from the album populate the ranks of Volume 2. The band’s following release, The Gold Record, marked a new “golden” age for the Souls. The 2006 record also established that after years of noodling across the Hudson River, the band’s homebase would forever be the Jersey Shore.

Greg Attonito crowd surfs at Bamboozle Left, 2008, Irvine, CA (Photo by Noel Vasquez)

Despite Attonito’s choice to commute from the sticks—and a drummer change or two—the rest, as they say, is Jersey history. It may be generational, but there are few acts that evoke an association to New Jersey quite like The Bouncing Souls.

Bruce Springsteen requires no explanation. Bon Jovi isn’t far behind. The Misfits are, for some reason, inextricably connected to their hometown of Lodi. The New Brunswick boys in The Gaslight Anthem (with a co-sign from The Boss) have become hometown heroes. My Chemical Romance has immeasurably left its mark on the world, but somehow holds down its Garden State credibility.

But, for Gen X and Millennials, only The Bouncing Souls—with tracks as indicative as “East Coast, F*** You!” and the aptly-titled “So Jersey”—can conjure the feeling of the boardwalk under your feet, the smell of the Atlantic Ocean and the buzz of The Stone Pony.

The Bouncing Souls performs at The Fillmore in Detroit, MI, 2013 (Photo by Scott Legato)

In a year as uncertain as 2020, at least fans have the consistency and renewed spirit of The Bouncing Souls—31 years in—to distract them, if only for a few minutes.

“Call it naïve, but we committed to doing this for our whole lives,” Kienlen says. “I guess we took that commitment seriously. But we didn’t know what this meant, we didn’t have a picture in our head. I’m glad we made every decision from our hearts.”

Luckily, his bandmates are equally as enthused.

“It just gets better all the time,” Steinkopf says. “We have more fun as we get older. We’re in such a cool place. Turning 50 and feeling that way, I’m pretty f***ing stoked.”

Attonito adds: “Once you make it to 50, you can see the world and understand the value in having relationships that lasted this long—with each other and the audience. This is so incredible that we can do this. We love it. And because of the pandemic, when we get back, we’re all gonna appreciate things even more.”

Follow me on Twitter at @DerekUTG.