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Strike Twelve, but never out
Shock, surprise, betrayal, anxiety, and other adult emotions
Paging Dr. Punk. And Space Punk. And Punk Recycler.
The song “Not a Phase,” which opens Strike Twelve’s new album Last Band Standing, furiously (but humorously) roasts the question of when this punk-with-pop trio out of Temecula is going to grow up and call it quits. The former change, they merrily chime, seems inevitable, but the latter is strictly optional.
For all the tune’s in-your-face passion, bassist Joe Treister (known as “Joey T,” as the fellows aren’t big on last names or initials after periods) confesses the sentiment skewering started mildly. “It’s more of a joke that we in the band have. We imagine that when our now-wives were first meeting us and talking about us with their girlfriends, they’d say things about how great we were, except we needed to get over the whole ‘being in a band’ phase. People probably have had these thoughts, but no one ever says it to our face. We’re pretty up front with people that this is going to be a part of their lives if they’re entering into ours.”
Founded at the turn of the century when Treister met guitarist Matt “Matty T” Turek and drummer Dan “Danny B” Bahou, at Temecula’s Chaparral High School, they’ve certainly got mileage on their side. “I got my first guitar for my seventh birthday,” says Turek. “My Mom and Dad set it up on a stand in my room while I was downstairs, asked me to run up and grab something. I opened my bedroom door and there it stood, a Sunburst Harmony Strat. I was in love, and whaled on it even though I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. I went through a few guitar instructors at Sounds of Music in Temecula and it wasn’t clicking for me, I wanted to quit. My parents encouraged me to try one more teacher. That’s when I met James Messina, my guitar instructor for nearly a decade, my mentor and friend. He taught me how to write and jam with others.”
Over at Chaparral, Bahou recalls “Matt and Joe approached me to do the talent show when we were freshmen, using the song they’d written called ‘The Pizza Song,’ under the band name The Delivery Boys — a song that is still requested to this day by the old school homies. We got second place behind a tap dancer wearing an American flag. I like to think that was our start date, 2000, but Joe tends to use 2003, because that is when we officially changed our name to Strike Twelve.”
That name’s origin remains a mystery, according to Bahou. “We just realized recently that there isn’t a consensus. I always thought it was because Matty and Joey T liked to bowl when we were kids, and twelve strikes is the perfect game. Matt always thought it was like a fresh start at the stroke of midnight. Joe just says it’s whatever you want it to be. Such a mysterious one, that Joey T.”
According to Treister, “It could be interpreted multiple ways, and we never really decided on which one was the ‘right’ one. All we knew was Better Than Nothing” — the name they tried after The Delivery Boys — “was lame and it was time for a re-brand.” And the sound? High-energy punk/pop remains the order of the day, but the threesome run a surprisingly rich gamut through shock, surprise, betrayal, anxiety, and other adult emotions.
Regarding songwriting, “No one is in charge,” says Turek. “Both Joey and I contribute to this process. In a nutshell, I will bring a song to the table with lyrics and let the boys absorb it and make their own contributions and suggestions. My songs evolve a lot during this process. I basically provide the skeleton and Joey and Danny provide the meat. Joey is a lot more detailed and organized in what he brings to the table. His songs are nearly completed when we hear them.”
They’re in it for the long run, for sure, but playing shows to the bartender and the sound guy still sometimes happens, so they’ve bowed down to day jobs. Turek builds tools for the aerospace industry, while Treister became a pediatric ICU doctor. Bahou expanded his family’s recycling business. “You’d think I’d plan my Strike Twelve schedule around work, but it’s actually the opposite,” he laughs.
Asked about the biggest changes since the turn of the century, Strike Twelve plays it cool. “We grew up with the scene and the scene grew up with us,” says Bahou. “Punk music seems to be ‘not a phase’ for more people than just us.”
Here's something you might be interested in.
Strike Twelve, but never out
Shock, surprise, betrayal, anxiety, and other adult emotions
Strike Twelve, but never out
Shock, surprise, betrayal, anxiety, and other adult emotions
Paging Dr. Punk. And Space Punk. And Punk Recycler.
The song “Not a Phase,” which opens Strike Twelve’s new album Last Band Standing, furiously (but humorously) roasts the question of when this punk-with-pop trio out of Temecula is going to grow up and call it quits. The former change, they merrily chime, seems inevitable, but the latter is strictly optional.
For all the tune’s in-your-face passion, bassist Joe Treister (known as “Joey T,” as the fellows aren’t big on last names or initials after periods) confesses the sentiment skewering started mildly. “It’s more of a joke that we in the band have. We imagine that when our now-wives were first meeting us and talking about us with their girlfriends, they’d say things about how great we were, except we needed to get over the whole ‘being in a band’ phase. People probably have had these thoughts, but no one ever says it to our face. We’re pretty up front with people that this is going to be a part of their lives if they’re entering into ours.”
Founded at the turn of the century when Treister met guitarist Matt “Matty T” Turek and drummer Dan “Danny B” Bahou, at Temecula’s Chaparral High School, they’ve certainly got mileage on their side. “I got my first guitar for my seventh birthday,” says Turek. “My Mom and Dad set it up on a stand in my room while I was downstairs, asked me to run up and grab something. I opened my bedroom door and there it stood, a Sunburst Harmony Strat. I was in love, and whaled on it even though I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. I went through a few guitar instructors at Sounds of Music in Temecula and it wasn’t clicking for me, I wanted to quit. My parents encouraged me to try one more teacher. That’s when I met James Messina, my guitar instructor for nearly a decade, my mentor and friend. He taught me how to write and jam with others.”
Over at Chaparral, Bahou recalls “Matt and Joe approached me to do the talent show when we were freshmen, using the song they’d written called ‘The Pizza Song,’ under the band name The Delivery Boys — a song that is still requested to this day by the old school homies. We got second place behind a tap dancer wearing an American flag. I like to think that was our start date, 2000, but Joe tends to use 2003, because that is when we officially changed our name to Strike Twelve.”
That name’s origin remains a mystery, according to Bahou. “We just realized recently that there isn’t a consensus. I always thought it was because Matty and Joey T liked to bowl when we were kids, and twelve strikes is the perfect game. Matt always thought it was like a fresh start at the stroke of midnight. Joe just says it’s whatever you want it to be. Such a mysterious one, that Joey T.”
According to Treister, “It could be interpreted multiple ways, and we never really decided on which one was the ‘right’ one. All we knew was Better Than Nothing” — the name they tried after The Delivery Boys — “was lame and it was time for a re-brand.” And the sound? High-energy punk/pop remains the order of the day, but the threesome run a surprisingly rich gamut through shock, surprise, betrayal, anxiety, and other adult emotions.
Regarding songwriting, “No one is in charge,” says Turek. “Both Joey and I contribute to this process. In a nutshell, I will bring a song to the table with lyrics and let the boys absorb it and make their own contributions and suggestions. My songs evolve a lot during this process. I basically provide the skeleton and Joey and Danny provide the meat. Joey is a lot more detailed and organized in what he brings to the table. His songs are nearly completed when we hear them.”
They’re in it for the long run, for sure, but playing shows to the bartender and the sound guy still sometimes happens, so they’ve bowed down to day jobs. Turek builds tools for the aerospace industry, while Treister became a pediatric ICU doctor. Bahou expanded his family’s recycling business. “You’d think I’d plan my Strike Twelve schedule around work, but it’s actually the opposite,” he laughs.
Asked about the biggest changes since the turn of the century, Strike Twelve plays it cool. “We grew up with the scene and the scene grew up with us,” says Bahou. “Punk music seems to be ‘not a phase’ for more people than just us.”
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