"We've gotten lucky in a lot of situations. And not so much in others," he says. "All around, it's been one hell of a life, dude. It's been one hell of an adventure. And people have been so gracious ... for them to keep us around and to allow us to be able to do this because it's what we want to do so much."
At the same time, though, 30 years was never really the goal, and the Mesa punks had nothing resembling a plan.
"We were so young when we started doing that. I guess I was 14 years old, man," DeVore says. "In my head, this is what's going to happen. That's my life. Your parents are like, 'There's going to be other bands.' I knew when I was a kid that this was going to be the band that I would be in literally for the rest of my life."
And there's little denying the end results: Authority Zero have toured the world several times over; had big hits with songs like "Over Seasons" and "A Passage in Time"; released great albums like "Andiamo" and "12:34"; and generally helped put Mesa on the map as a genuine musical destination (alongside some other local folks, of course). Not having a plan, it seems, may have been the smartest move of them all.
"I think with the idea of not having had a plan of great success or things that we felt like we needed to reach, we weren't disappointed when we didn't reach them," DeVore says. "We were just having a good time. We'd already accomplished our dreams as kids."
Jason DeVore, left, and Bill Marcks at the band's first electric show at The Mason Jar in the mid-1990s.
David Hunsaker
While there wasn't a plan, perhaps there was something resembling a vision.
"I pictured us being like The Rolling Stones — as friends growing old together and looking at each other side by side in the reality of how much time had gone past and what you've all been through," he says.
He adds, "In my head, all I wanted when I was a kid was for the bands that I grew up listening to, and this is legitimate, was to recognize our group as a band. Like, 'Oh, those guys are actually a band and they're something to be reckoned with.' The rest was like bonus tracks for us. And it's been bonus track after bonus track."
Still, some of that dream has changed, and DeVore is now the only remaining original member left in Authority Zero. It's a story like so many other groups, DeVore explains, as "people got jobs and wives and mortgages and punk rock doesn't pay the bills." But DeVore has a slightly different attitude than some other similar "legacy acts": Authority Zero is about a connection that transcends any actual lineups.
"Everybody that's been in this band is the biggest part of this band," he says. "I mean, everybody's played a role in this band from the beginning, from the friends who jumped in just to keep the show going in the middle of a crisis situation. We're talking, like, 20 people throughout the years. Everyone in this band is in this band still. It's just a big family."
The current Authority Zero lineup sees DeVore joined by guitarist Brandon Landelius, bassist Mike Spero and drummer Chris Dalley, each of whom have played with the band for roughly a decade. The band's also had several longtime members in bassist Jeremy Wood, guitarist Bill Marcks and drummer Jim Wilcox.
It's not just all feel-good sentimentality, either. It's perhaps DeVore's approach to bringing in new members over the years that's made the biggest difference.
"There's something that these members have brought to the table, whether it be their playing abilities or their influence on the group itself — to give it a certain change in sound," he says. "Like, don't follow it and try to be (an ex-member) but be yourself. I want you to bring something new to this because that's why you are coming in. I want (fans) to see that so that they accept you and embrace you as a part of this band."
And all of that stems from a rather important mantra, of sorts, that DeVore has maintained.
"This band is not the only thing in our life," he says. "Life is what makes this band."
And that core idea filters its way into how DeVore and Authority Zero actually make music.
"I think at this point ... the message is clear that we're trying to spread a good, positive message," he says. "I'm trying to express what really happens to my own personal life and I hope that it helps and that someone can actually relate. I want people to get something good out of it that they can use in their own lives to help make some progress. I think the fans see that and they appreciate the idea that we're still pushing and working so hard to keep the music coming to help people deal with their own day-to-day lifestyles and hardships."
But as with the arc of anyone's life, there comes some eventual downsides and significant changes (even more so than new/departing members).
"There was a while that things got complacent, I guess you could say," DeVore says. "This is probably around the 20-year mark, maybe."
Part of it's that DeVore, who turns 45 in September, had to face that tried-and-true punk rock cliche of getting older.
"There's only so many years you can jump 20 feet off of a ceiling or scaffolding and hope that you survive," he says. "They always say it's going to catch up to you. And once you get to 40, that shit catches up immediately. Like, why can't I walk? Why is my foot swollen?"
DeVore says he now can see "see the broader picture. It's not just a young kid shooting from the hip." And that perspective is what it's really all about.
"Now it's like I've got a direct target of sorts," he says. "We all have a collective vision. And it's really a cool thing. You're not so overly determined. It's like that thing I talked about with your goal setting, where you get disappointed because you see this one giant goal and you're just going for it. All the rest of the stuff that comes along with that is going to be super tough but super awesome at the same time and it's going to be a life experience. And that's what's going to make this really special and keep the journey going."
At the same time, however, the issues went deeper still. DeVore underwent a "reality check of sorts," asking big questions like "Are you just going through the motions now? What are you doing this for? What's the point?" A lot of it was tied to his own personal drinking habits, which is made all the more complicated when you're the leader of Authority Zero.
"We were the party band, and we were just having fun," he says. "But mine got to a dangerous place of being unhealthy, and it became a deal with coping with all of the change that was going on."
So, a few years back, DeVore quit drinking. He says the personal shift was rather significant.
"It really was life-changing for me to find the clarity and this (sense of) resurgence within myself," he says. "Like, 'This has just begun.' It's maybe an old guy thing to say, but the first three years was the warmup. It gets you prepared for what's about to actually happen. Now that you've broken all the bones and you've snapped those tendons, you've hurt yourself multiple times, and you've taken the beatings, now you're calloused enough for where now the work begins."
Getting older and not drinking wasn't just good for DeVore personally. He's found that drive and spark he was searching for.
"The intensity of it all is different than it used to be," he says. "It's knowing what you can and can't do if you want to keep on doing it. It's about how you enjoy singing to these people and feeling that intensity through the passion and the lyrics and the song itself. It's the comfort zone of knowing who you are at this point, what your band is and knowing that you can release that energy through the emotion and passion of simply singing your songs the best you can and giving them the best show in that regard. Putting more focus toward that rather than how outlandish can I be or how crazy I can be."
Still, this extended reexamination can be quite difficult. But there's also clearly some upsides to boot. For one, it's given DeVore a chance to understand how the band writes songs and, as an extension of that, what these creations ultimately mean for Authority Zero.
"I think it's cool when people as a collective can latch onto one song that has that universal impact," DeVore says. "I like it when you're not trying to do that for the general masses, but when it happens, happenstance, because it's a good song, that's the most beautiful thing in the world. It can break barriers. I think it's because we just write this music for ourselves. I grew up on bands that I would sing the big parts, the chorus, the sing-alongs, those things that you can easily digest in parts. It's honest from the second you put the pen to paper. Like I said, Authority Zero is not life; life makes Authority Zero."
He added, "And that's where all the ideas come from — that human experience, the good and the bad, where you use the music to resolve these difficult situations and find that hope of a positive outlook."
Connection and positivity have been the band's calling card for years. It's why for DeVore, there's one song that instantly comes to mind as the pinnacle of Authority Zero's output (and not just because it's one of their more substantial releases).
"I'd say it's 'A Passage in Time,'" says DeVore about the band's quintessential song. "It's got the weird time signatures and breakdowns. It's got the intense punk rock elements and rock 'n' roll. It shows you enough within that song. It's also got the reggae-ska side thing. It's weird enough to make it seem like there might be a thing that's happening there, but you're not sure what's happening. It also makes you realize this band is fucking weird. Like, 'I can't wait to see what the next one's all about.' That's the song we all encore with every night."
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It's a song that's often the centerpiece of Authority Zero's live shows, including their ongoing anniversary world tour. DeVore has a few such memorable shows that come to mind, and much like everything we've discussed so far, it all connects back to the power of community and engaging others via music.
"We played Edgefest back home. I think it was one of the first after ('A Passage in Time') hit the radio; local people knew about the band on a grander scale and were super stoked," DeVore says. "I remember walking out on that stage; I'll remember that for my entire life. This was like a hair-raising, pinnacle moment. Like, you have arrived, bro. We walked out on stage and that G chord hits for 'A Passage' and that whole baseball field lost it. Like, 30,000 people just like ants filing down from that stage. It was like watching "Braveheart"; it was the coolest thing I've ever seen in my life. And that is what I picture every night from that night forward, of what's happening and the feeling each night when I hit the stage."
Or, an especially riotous but deeply meaningful show played in the home of democracy.
"There was a big rally outside this venue in Athens, Greece," he says. "It was anarchists rising up against the government out of the streets. I heard when we showed up that we needed to be careful. There was something in the air that night. We were playing 'Revolution,' but it was different on a very honest and very pure scale when the kids were singing it back. There was something very real about that resonates with me. I was told after the show to go hide in this little bunker because we couldn't go outside because of what was going on. That whole experience was so pure and on a different scale to me of, like, actual human interaction."
In fact, there have been plenty of international shows that have really brought it back home for Authority Zero.
"We played at Resurrection Fest (in Spain). Megadeth played it, KISS played. It was a pretty cool festival," DeVore says. "We got out there and they were singing all the words to every single song, all the big choruses and the hooks — the things that I really like to write that people can universally just capture and like feel invigorated with. It blew my mind. A world away from home, and we're having this moment."
But no matter where they travel, or how many decade-centric milestones they hit, Authority Zero will always be a local band. "Mesa Town" doesn't just make for good merchandise for the band. Rather, it's a banner under which they have always operated, and a reminder of what really matters.
Because time marches on and lineups change and songs come and go, but some things will always remain. Even if it’s just knowing where you came from to inform where you’re likely headed.
"The cool thing is that we kind of immortalized Mesa Town in some weird way. And we embraced that," DeVore says. "We think it's the coolest thing that our fans also recognize that worldwide. We're proud of where we come from and we're proud of the people that are part of that community. And it means a lot to us being embraced like that by our community back in the day. Not a lot of bands do that too much. A lot of small town bands or whatever say, 'Oh, we're from Phoenix.' We're from out the dregs, out the gutters, and we're proud of that."
