The Arrivals.

THE ARRIVALS ARE, IN MY ESTIMATION, THE BEST ROCK AND ROLL BAND in America you've yet to hear. With a seven-year history of obscurity, I had not expectations beyond drinking more when these Chicagoans took the stage. The day I saw them was during a heat wave. A football player died of heat exhaustion merely miles away when The Arrivals tore and dripped through their set. What separates them into the league of Naked Raygun is hard to figure, besides the fact that every element to their songs is simultaneously true, inventive, and powerful. When Isaac sings through burlap lungs, you can hear his soul though his voice. It, thankfully, isn't some self-indulgent, fragile asshole, emo soul; nor is it a white dude copping Muddy Waters' soul. It's pure. You can hear it right on the record, Goodbye New World, if you don't believe me. Ronnie Dicola started drumming in the band at 14, and you can hear the wheels coming off a and crashing that sticks like a cross-face chin lock into Big Dave's bass. Little Dave, who held the honorary title of "The Hardest Rockin' Man in Braces," until the recently got them removed, fills and perks their sound so nothing's missing, nothing's hollow or thin. It's just, like, fuck... Rock--meaty, kick-ass rock. -- Retodd

When I was at your house, Little Dave, and I was going through your stuff when you were asleep, I found a bunch of old skate mags. Did you used to skate?

Little Dave: I loved to skate. I really wanted to be able to skate really bad. I was in fourth or fifth grade and I finally had enough money saved to buy a good set-up. I went to Paramount Skateboards in Midlothian, Illinois, which was the only place on the whole south side of Chicago that sold good skate gear. I bought a Hosoi ramp deck to learn to street skate on. It's got that 90-degree angle kicktail and I couldn't even fucking ollie straight. I had to be on a sidewalk crack so that my board wouldn't move anywhere, cause I had to move so far back to kick it down that I couldn't do it moving. I could always manage to get up and down curbs.

Big Dave: I saw everybody skating, so my fat ass went out and got a Mark Gonzales 1989, some G&S trucks. I think the only trick I would do -- I was a little trouble-making shit -- we'd go into the Jewel Supermarket and knock down the toilet paper isle; just clear it. Actually, I made up a skate trick called the Greg Louganis. All the kids I skated with lived in apartment complexes with speed bumps, so we'd just launch it off a speed bump and it'd go phrreeeeew. Then there was a church at the end of my block and it had glass windows. This is a true story, too, 'cause the guy came and harassed me. I got back and I did a Greg Louganis right through the double glass doors of the church. I used to be a little shit; I was a trouble maker. I didn't know any better. What's a fat guy gonna do with a skateboard? Name a musician or band that's had a huge impact on you, that has no influence on your sound at all.

Little Dave: When I play the blues, the most influence on my playing is Michael Jackson when he was little. His singing, it was kind of bluesy. This is all stuff that I realized after the fact. When I sing Michael Jackson/Jackson Five songs. I'm in the same exact place in my head as when I play blues guitar.

Ronnie: As far as influence that I don't use, Miles Davis fuckin' turns my crank for some reason, dude. Whenever I sit down and listen to Miles Davis, every single part of my body becomes free. I have sex to Miles Davis too.

Big Dave: that's abstract as hell.

Ronnie: Or I have dinner to Miles Davis.

Big Dave: It's a good dinner album.

Little Dave: I got in trouble in high school for doing abass solo during an assembly with my back to the crowd, like Miles Davis would, as a tribute to Miles Davis.

Favorite scar?

Ronnie: I have a scar on my nose. I was about seven-years-old. I was sitting in the middle of my Dad's old Cordoba. We were coming out of a video store and some guy sped out. My Dad had to slam on the brakes and I whipped my head against the dash board and broke my nose open. But, my Dad got out--I remember it vividly. My pops is a bad, bad man. He, seriously, pulled the dude out of the car, beat him senseless, got back in the car and drove us home.

Big Dave: When I was a little kid, I decided I wanted to get my workout in gear, so I was doing push ups and I had my hand over the air conditioning vent. I decided to put a 10-pound barbell weight on my back' cause I wanted to kick up my workout. It slid off and went right on the hand. It's kind of a dumb one.

Have you ever found your hand in a toilet?

Little Dave: I was smoking hitters at work in the bathroom and dropped my hitter in the toilet and had to pull it out.

Big Dave: I had a Swiss army knife, so I had to get that. Dirty waters. Pre-flush.

Little Dave: We used to put our GI Joe guys in scuba gear and try to flush them. We did it habitually, even though it never worked and always clogged something up. We always tried. We wanted to send one Joe down into the depths.