Why It Lasted

Thirty-two years is longer than most bands make it.

Longer than many careers.

Longer than many marriages.

Jaret still has trouble processing the idea that Bowling for Soup supports families—that something started in a Wichita Falls rehearsal room became an actual life for this many people.

He hopes they make it to forty.

Maybe forty-five.

The rule now is simple:

As long as they can do it well, and everybody still wants to be there, keep going.

The things Jaret is proudest of are not necessarily the biggest shows or records.

He believes the platform Bowling for Soup gave him came with a responsibility.

His own experiences with depression and anxiety eventually made mental-health advocacy a major part of his life. Through his own work and organizations including Punk Rock Saves Lives, he has tried to make sure people hear something important from the guy they normally expect to make them laugh:

You matter.

You are not alone.

There is help.

Maybe those words land differently when they come from the silly guy.

He is proud of that.

And the band is proud of what the last 32 years have built: the friendships, the families supported along the way, and songs that will remain long after the people who made them are gone.

And he understands why people still care about the band.

People feel like Bowling for Soup are their friends.

In a way, that is what the band has always wanted.

Maybe someone came to a show in 2005 and disappeared into careers and marriages and kids.

Come back.

Let's be friends again.

Maybe someone discovered “1985” yesterday.

Welcome.

Let's be friends.

Maybe Phineas and Ferb was the introduction.

Maybe it was Warped Tour.

Maybe it was “Girl All the Bad Guys Want.”

Maybe it was a parent playing an old CD in the car.

It doesn't really matter how someone got there.

Bowling for Soup has spent more than three decades trying to make the person in front of them smile.

They still get tired.

They still miss their families and pets when they are gone.

There are days when the airports, buses and distance make them wonder how long they can keep doing it. How long SHOULD they keep doing it?

Then they walk onstage.

People start singing.

People start laughing.

They see the smiles.

And they remember.

There is almost no better feeling in the world.

Bowling for Soup has survived vans, labels, hits, missed opportunities, lineup changes, marriages, divorces, children, a farewell, independence, a pandemic and virtually every version of the modern music business.

The reason it survived may be much simpler than any of that.

When Bowling for Soup started in 1994, the agreement was basically:

“We'll keep doing this as long as it's fun.”

In 2013, it wasn't.

So they stopped.

When they came back, it was fun again.

And right now?

Bowling for Soup is on fire.

The shows are growing. The songs are still being discovered. New music is coming. The three guys in the band actually like spending their days together.

And after all these years, the original rule still holds.

Bowling for Soup has always been about fun.