Minus the Bear took their sweet time with Voids. Five years off, a new drummer, and a lot of growing up later, the band roars back with an album that feels like a gut punch of honesty and reflection. Frontman Jake Snider knows it’s a long gap, but it doesn’t sound like he’s interested in apologizing for it. “Yeah, five years is pretty damn long,” he shrugs. “But now that the record’s out, it just feels normal again.”
Normal, sure, but not exactly the carefree party anthems of the past. When they first started in 2001, Minus the Bear was all about drinking songs and party vibes—a side project that accidentally became a real band. Now, after nearly two decades and two kids, Snider’s not writing about hangovers and tour bus antics anymore. “All that stuff’s not part of my worldview now,” he says. “This record, I just looked at what I was angry about. There was a lot of processing to do.”
One of the biggest changes on Voids was the departure of drummer Erin Tate, a longtime friend. “That was rough. We went through this period of not knowing if we were even going to be a band anymore,” he says. “You hit that point of, like, ‘What am I if I’m not doing music?’ It was terrifying. But once we found fresh meat behind the kit, things just started to click again.”
If Voids sounds heavier, rawer, more uncertain, it’s because it’s basically Snider’s crisis of identity set to music. Songs like “Tame Beasts” feel like the world’s about to collapse, and Snider doesn’t deny it. “Alex wrote that one,” he admits. “It’s weird because it was finished before the election, but it feels like it saw the future. There was all this tension in the air. Like, we could keep moving toward progress, or we could get thrown back a few decades. Spoiler: we got thrown back.”
But even with the existential dread creeping in, fans are still connecting with the album’s most expansive tracks, like “Silver” and “Lighthouse.” Snider’s surprised. “Honestly, I thought other songs would grab people more,” he says. “But I get it—those tracks are in our wheelhouse. They sound like Minus the Bear.” Even the more positive-sounding tracks, like “Invisible,” hide their optimism behind layers of doubt. “It’s like telling yourself to be authentic while feeling like a fraud,” he says.
Snider’s got a wry take on aging in rock. “I’m basically an old man running around the country, singing songs I wrote in my house. You get to a point where you’re just like, ‘How do I keep the fire burning when I’ve got a mortgage and a five-year-old asking for mac and cheese?’” The struggle is real. He admits that hitting 40 freaked him out at first, but now it’s just part of the ride. “I look at my kid and think, ‘One day, you’re gonna be 40 too, and you won’t believe it happened.’ It’s not about growing old, it’s about how fast it all happens.”
And even if rock’s always been about youthful rebellion, Snider’s not about to give it up just because he’s closer to AARP than adolescence. “It still feels like we’re just getting started,” he says. “That fire’s still there. We’ve just gotta figure out how to keep feeding it without burning ourselves out.”
So yeah, Voids might be a record born out of chaos, doubt, and frustration, but it’s also proof that Minus the Bear’s still got plenty left in the tank. Even if Snider’s got a few more gray hairs now.
Listen to the interview above, and then check out the latest single from Voids, "Last Kiss," below.
