Prescription Packs Punky Punch on Comeback Record

Trick question: What do John Boehner and a woodpecker have in common? Well, nothing — except both inspired George Archambault as he wrote lyrics for his band’s comeback album.

Lab Rats, released in January, marks the official return of contemptuous Denver crossover crew Prescription after more than a decade away, but for those who remember the salad days of the Wheat Ridge High School punks, singing about being “chemi-killed” by a supposedly pot-friendly apostate or a pesky Picidae is on brand.

“I said it,” deadpans vocalist Archambault when asked what he wanted to convey on Lab Rats. “I’ve always been political. Our band’s always been political. Punk-rock should be political. That’s what it is.”

He sees a song like “Boehner Weed” as educational, while “Pecker Head” is a true story of one man’s war against an enemy bird.

“I try to do some more light-hearted songs in there,” he says. “But I really did have a woodpecker fucking torment me for years outside of my house. I literally waited out in my yard at 5 a.m. for that fucking bird for months and never could get it in my sights. That thing was a fucking demon.”

Other than the track, the sapsacker makes an appearance on the back cover of Lab Rats — or at least, a picture of its skull does.

“While I was writing the ‘Pecker Head’ lyrics and thinking them over in my garage, I came up my deck and I saw a woodpecker dead on my porch because one flew right into my window,” Archambault explains. “The thing died. I thought, ‘Man, maybe all my ill will really finally ended this thing.’”

Prescription’s third wind built up over the past five years, as bassist Mike Ruschival quietly worked on new material before sharing it with his longtime bandmates and booking time at Bart McCrorey’s Crash Pad Studio, where the four are huddled together for this interview.

“I would say some of those songs on Lab Rats have been in the works for a longtime. During Covid, I just started writing tons of music,” Ruschival says, adding that he and drummer Jesse Jones fleshed out the material initially. “It was over a few years before we actually finally were like, ‘Hey, man, this is for real happening now,’ and I called Bart about recording a record. It’s been long enough. We’re all down. George always has awesome shit to say and he’s fucking funny.”

McCorey, who recorded the band’s 2005 album Epoxy Lips Now!, proved to be the last piece of the Prescription puzzle.

“We were recording Lab Rats, and I didn’t know I was going to have anything to do with it other than recording it. Then I got handed a guitar and told to play some leads,” he says.

“I’d be like, ‘Bart, you just do it,’ and he’d rip it out really easily,” Ruschival adds. “I was like, ‘Just be in the band full time and let’s fucking do it.’ Thankfully, he was in.”  

“I like to rock,” says scene veteran McCorey.

Now, Prescription is ready to make it back to the stage with a release show on Friday, February 27, at hi-dive. Local ragers Arson Charge and Clusterfux are also on the bill.

What’s next is still up in the air, as the group was just happy to get this EP and show together — but inspiration abounds. “There’s no shortage of ideas for things to gripe about,” Archambault notes. “Until we live in a society where things are good and people are living harmoniously, why wouldn’t politics enter into music? What else do you got to sing about? How many love songs can you do?”

“There’s always the brevity in his lyrics, but it also talks about genocide in Gaza,” Ruschival says, pointing to song “Zion Maim.”

But that’s Prescription.

“They were doing the same thing in 2005 with the Bush-era stuff,” adds McCorey, recalling a track like “Lies from Up High.” “Then also funny shit like ‘Skip Rocks,’ about a boss who sucked.”

If Lab Rats is any indication, the well seems far from dry. “Hopefully, we can practice before we record next time,” Jones quips.

The others laugh in agreement.  

“I think we all just missed it,” Ruschival concludes. “I know I did.”

Prescription, with Clusterfux and Arson Charge, 8 p.m. Friday, February 27, hi-dive, 7 South Broadway. Tickets are $19.