J im Adkins and Zach Lind of Jimmy Eat World are calling from the road. New York, to be exact, 15 dates into The Offspring’s Supercharged Worldwide in ’25 tour with New Found Glory. An optimal trio, for sure, an energetic eureka whose moment has come. It’s been a while, but World’s logged miles with Glory, from festivals to Vans Warped runs. Yet, weirdly, never The Offspring. Is that possible? Check some of the names Jimmy Eat World shared bills with before even the New Millennium: Rancid, blink-182, Green Apple Quickstep, Supergrass, Mr. T Experience, The Get Up Kids, Smoking Popes, Bad Religion, The Promise Ring, Burning Airlines, Sense Field, even The Vandals and Fear. The Offspring fit many of those slots. Plus, if you caught “Lucky Denver Mint” on modern-rock radio in 1999, “Why Don’t You Get a Job?” wasn’t far behind. There’s a half-connection, though, in the wayback days. Drummer Lind recalls supporting the Epitaph-era Offspring with World rhythm guitarist Tom Linton in an outfit called No Longer Plaid at downtown Phoenix’s Silver Dollar. This was the early ’90s, before Chase Field swallowed those blocks. Anyway, when you read this paragraph, the guys will be closer to home. Here. Where it continues, where it all began. And if you catch them Wednesday, Aug. 27, at the Talking Stick Resort Amphitheatre, frontman and guitarist Adkins has but one word. “Hydrate,” he advises. “Everyone needs to hydrate now.” “Start drinking fluids,” Lind adds, “because it’s gonna be hot.” Spoken like true Arizonans. And oh, yeah, play this loud. Jimmy Eat World is Mesa to its core, a 1993 punk communion of Mountain View and Westwood high school kids, though Adkins and Lind’s kinship began much earlier. Tom Linton and original bassist Mitch Porter were neighborhood friends. One could say its birth was preordained. A rabid youth ruled three early releases, starting with a snotty demo slabbed as Thursday, Jan. 20, 1994, lurched toward Friday, Jan. 21. ’Twas so DIY, members (Adkins, usually, though everyone shared the task) scribbled “Yes, I wrote all of these by hand” in pen across its cassette labels. Later that year, Tempe indie Wooden Blue Records shepherded the 7-inch “One, Two, Three, Four” EP and a self-titled full- length CD. All ride scrumptious hooks, rife with taut puissance, and in their rarity, rank as prized collectors’ items. As its sound evolved — audible on “Digits,” recorded first for a split with Christie Front Drive — Jimmy Eat World took off. And in 1995, when record compa- nies swept through cities sniffing for post- alt grub, that trajectory took a wild swerve. Capitol A&R man Craig Aaronson courted the band after a benefit show at Mesa’s Nile Theater. Porter left the lineup for missionary work and was replaced by Carrier bassist Rick Burch, launching a strange but rewarding journey. The East Valley had taken these guys to heart, but how about America? An answer to that question took some time. The mainstream caught glimpses of the band in the video for “Rockstar,” B-side to lead single “Call It in the Air,” from 1996 Capitol debut “Static Prevails.” “Glimpses” ’cause faces dive in and out of frame. Angles sometimes linger on feet. The action starts with Linton’s head bowed before the mic, throwing itself into the track’s ferocity. Adkins, at second guitar, appears primarily in an ageless profile. Burch looms as his bass thrums. Limbs and equipment obscure Lind at the kit. In a way, the presentation mirrored Jimmy Eat World’s own visibility at the label, which ended its association with the quartet shortly after releasing follow-up “Clarity” in early 1999. Everything could have ended there. But holy shit, did it not. For upon both “Clarity” and a Fueled by Ramen EP romped the sweet-harmonied, sun-riffed “Lucky Denver Mint.” “Clarity’s” now regarded as a vital mile- stone in the development of third-wave emo (the band even earned a chapter in Andy Greenwald’s 2003 genre study “Nothing Feels Good”), quite a coup for a disc dumped into the marketplace sans ceremony. Chicago teen Tracie Amirante already knew what it would mean, opining upon its bow, “It’s more than rock. It’s more than pop. It’s more than emo. ‘Clarity’ is an ‘everything’ record.” Everything, everything’ll be just fine. Free from Capitol, the band moved to DreamWorks, where the floodgates burst open on 2001’s “Bleed American.” The album went platinum on the strength of “Sweetness” and its title track and, of course, the monstrous “The Middle,” whose popular Paul Fedor video spoke to those longing for meaningful connections beyond superficial frivolities. Fans grabbed Jimmy Eat World and never let go, through three more major-label efforts and beyond. Taylor Swift blessed them in an Apple ad and has dropped “The Middle” into set lists, once within feet of Adkins himself. The system under which it toiled may not persevere, but Jimmy Eat World’s forever now. Especially at home, where these four nice guys from Mesa — intact since “Static Prevails” — were feted last October with an official Jimmy Eat World Day. Phoenix mayor Kate Gallego called them “impactful.” They’d “built this city,” she said. These now-pioneers then rocked The Van Buren to rubble with a live perfor- mance of the “Futures” album. “Say hello to good times,” Adkins sang. “Trade up for the fast ride.” And what a ride it’s been. But Adkins and Lind will take the story from here. After all, they’re living it. We realize we’re in a future memory. Phoenix New Times: Combing through your past, I came across names like Aquanaut Drinks Coffee, Spaceman Spiff, Pine Wyatt and Carrier, who were all musical contempo- raries of yours, one of whom became one of you. Could you describe Mesa and the East Valley musically and culturally as you grew up? Jim Adkins: It was an archipelago of punk-rock islands, smaller niche commu- nities around the Valley. This is also before the Internet as we know it, connections within a very analog world. We got to know these other people with similar interests. Our friend group was probably a couple dozen people, and everyone was in bands and interested in the same things. I tracked you as far back as I could. The first mention I could find of you playing live is a Mesa Valentine’s Day show in 1994, which was described as your first-ever show, then June 4 with Rancid and Aquanaut Drinks Coffee at Boston’s in Tempe. What were your favorite local spots? Zach Lind: Boston’s was one of them. We got a lot of opportunities to open for bands like Face to Face and Rancid. Those were big shows, opportunities for us to make a name for ourselves, at least in the local valley area. We played Nita’s Enjoying the Process The evolution of Jimmy Eat World. by Cory Frye >> p 18 (Jimi Giannatti)
