Dance Gavin Dance celebrate Tim Feerick and open up on 'Jackpot Juicer'

On Tim Feerick

When asked to describe his friend in three words, Jon Mess doesn’t hesitate: “Tim’s very generous, and very friendly and open. He would often say whatever the hell was on his mind at any time.

“He has this tattoo on his arm that said, ‘BE ABOVE IT,’” he adds, the subconscious switches between present- and past-tense verbs telling how raw this horrible misfortune remains. “He had this kindhearted but no-fucks-given kind of attitude. There’s an edge to it, but it was sweet at the same time.”

It was a sweetness Feerick shared with everyone, not just friends and family. “I remember at one of our shows, Sean [Heydorn] from Rise Records brought his son,” Mess says. “Tim collects all the Jurassic Park action figures, and one of the drawers had this T-Rex toy in it that Tim had bought earlier that day. Tim’s like, ‘You can have it!’ And just gives it to the kid. Then the next day, we’re at a mall, and I see Tim walking back from a store with the same toy. He had to rebuy it to add it to his collection.”

On Jackpot Juicer

“It’s sort of like the hard work of the band coming to fruition after an extended period of time,” Mess says of the alliterative album title. It also relates to a little gift that Mess was given by his girlfriend. He holds up his keys, attached to which is a 6-inch lanyard bearing a single word in all caps: “JUICY.”

The record started with Swan writing the first four demos at the beginning of the pandemic lockdown. Following some time off to recharge their creative batteries, the band used their enforced downtime to prepare more original material than ever, eventually flying to Portland to record with legendary producer Kris Crummett, who has worked with Crown The Empire, Sleeping With Sirens and more. The recording process was to be no walk in the park, however; to put it simply, Crummett does not fuck around. “I’ve worked with other producers on my solo stuff, and there have been days when we’ve literally just sat around and talked,” clean vocalist Tilian Pearson says. “But Kris would never do that. He’s like, ‘You’re working from this time to this time, and if you’re not prepared, leave.’”

Though he isn’t the most easygoing collaborator, Crummett has a keen ear for heavy music — and the people skills to bring out the best in others, even when they’re at the end of their rope. Drummer Matt Mingus, for example, remembers struggling with the last song he was set to record, “Feels Bad Man.” Both physically and mentally drained from all the studio sessions, he was ready to throw in the towel and simply change the part to make it easier. “But Kris is like, ‘No, you’ve got this, man. Just go take a smoke break or chill for 10 minutes, and we’ll come back to it,’” he recalls. He looks back on the experience with pride.