Interview with Wipes

Skateboards, treats, basement spaces, and loud noise make the world go 'round

Video still by Tape Swap Radio

I don’t know exactly how I first heard Tile, but immediately upon hearing them I was blown away. I could tell exactly what they were going for (read on and you will find out) right away and I was all in. I can’t entirely recall the timeline of what came next, but I reached out to their singer/bassist Ray Gurz about them maybe coming up my way to play a show. Eventually I went down their way to see them play a small show instead in a record store and it was quite possibly one of the worst sets I’d ever seen. Two songs in Ray’s bass just broke- like it fell apart- and no one would loan him theirs so they just gave up.

On future visits to Bethlehem I’d always make a point to stop at Vegan Treats and Double Decker Records (usually on my way to Philly), and Ray was working at Double Decker at the time.

So any time I stopped in I’d always chat with him for a bit and we would keep in touch. Tile never did make it up my way to play a show, but after awhile we did talk about doing a record together.

Well, that didn’t happen either. Tile kind of quietly ended, but the idea behind the band, and the overall approach remained the same when Ray mentioned he was going to be playing music under the name Wipes instead. Once again, I was in immediately.

What has transpired since is a band that is prolific in their output (a 7”, a split, 2 LPs, several comp appearances, a couple other EPs, and another 10” EP on the way imminently), and focused in their mission. I’ve had the good fortune of bringing them out to the Northwest for some shows, and seeing them in different cities, and all the while maintaining a friendship with them.

Plus, Ray’s an interesting guy with an interesting life- playing music, running a small skateboard company, and even making children’s books every now and again. Why haven’t I interviewed him earlier? I can’t say. But here we are now, so let’s get to it.

If you bring up Bethlehem, Pennsylvania most people have no idea where that is. But it’s actually got a pretty storied punk rock history to it.

Yeah it does. Absolutely.

You’ve been a part of that for a pretty long time so can you speak to that a bit, or share some history?

I know in the 90’s the band Weston was gigantic for Bethlehem. For local history you have The Ick. But then you have Weston, which was the band from Bethlehem. But also in the last 26 years you have Secret Cutter, probably one of the biggest and loudest bands that came out of here. There were really good shows, really good venues. For venues there was this place called Scarlet O’Haras in Bethlehem that used to hold shows in the early 90’s for any local, and non-local, act. For us we would always see, like every other weekend, Mouthpiece, Flagman, Lifetime, and maybe Resurrection. And it became so regular to have the same bill. But they were all from New Jersey, so they would just come over and play Bethlehem.

My friends were in Blindside, so I would just tag along. That was probably around ’92 when all that was happening. So the scene’s been really cool for all these years.

And even way later with Secret Art Space in Bethlehem, pretty close to Home Base Skate Shop, that was a killer venue too. It was all ages and they would have the wildest shows on Fridays and Saturdays.

Photo by Adam Novicki

I think my introduction to Bethlehem came from hearing of Home Base, because they have been around forever, seeing ads for Double Decker Records in every fanzine and they were around forever too. But more personally, and much later on, hearing about and seeing Secret Art Space when friends bands started playing down there more often. And that’s also when I got to know people from down there.

It was a cool DIY venue that literally brought everyone in. Tile played there a bunch. Another band I was doing for awhile- Bad American- that was like our home spot. After awhile everyone started coming through and the sickest bands would play there. It was basically a small basement of a random building in south side Bethlehem. Stuff was happening. It was cool.

I guess the next closest city is Philadelphia. So when you were younger did that feel like basically another planet, or some level of disconnection from it? Or was there more of an attitude like, ‘everything within an hour is Philly’?

I don’t know if anyone will remember, but in Allentown (next to Bethlehem) there was a venue called The Pirates Cove and I think bands from all over, when Philly wasn’t hopping for shows, would play there. Because there was a time when Philly wasn’t doing a lot. So bands on tour would go from New York and play Pirates Cove in Allentown instead of Philly. I’m talking big bands like Municipal Waste, Phobia, endless amounts of bands. Seein’ Red, all the way from Europe, were playing there. So the disconnect was this idea of some big magical spot to play and it’s actually just the basement of some ranch home. (laughs) That’s all it was!

These bands would have no idea what’s going on. But it was madness! There’s circle pits happening, it was just a punk house in the middle of an industrial area where everything shut down at 5. It would turn into the punk block. You’d walk to the WaWa and come right back to the show and hang out in the yard. I can’t even tell ya.

One of the biggest shows my band ever played there, when I was in Carpenter Ant, was that we were supposed to play at a VFW and it got moved to the house because it got shut down after the first noise act. So we moved it there. I played with Drop Dead and Mastodon right when Mastodon had “Leviathan” coming out and it was insane. They were playing on full stacks. I thought the house was just going to give out because it was so loud. It was super cool.

But the disconnection is however you want to take it. I think a lot of people just gave up on this struggle of trying to book shows in Philly, how about we just go check out Allentown instead? Plus, everyone wants to go get Vegan Treats. And everyone would want to go to Double Decker. So they would do the routine.

They would all go to Vegan Treats, then Double Decker, and then over to the Pirates Cove for a show. So that was pretty much a given for a time.

I see the allure. I’ve done that as well, except I never went to Pirates Cove. But Allentown and Bethlehem are the types of towns where if they’re close to a big city everyone eventually moves to that big city. So I imagine there’s been quite the diaspora over the years of people you knew that traded Bethlehem for Philly.

Yeah, for sure.

So what has kept you there? Why have you stayed?

I stayed for jobs. So I learned that when I came home from the military I had to find something consistent that was going to be good. Or good paying. So I would get these offers, like, ‘hey do you want to come work for my mom’s business?’ So I’d do that. You can find good stuff that’s seasonal, but you can still make a good living, and I can still be a part of the scene. So I just arranged it like that. I’ve now been at UPS for 19 years. I’ve always stayed in this area but I like places with seasons that change. It’s pretty convenient for going to certain places. New York is like an hour and forty-five away. Philly is a little over an hour. It’s not super expensive to live here. But also, if you make something cool everyone will come out.

The wave of music always changes, but right now the scene is pretty cool. I’m glad I’m still here. It’s why I haven’t really gone anywhere. My family is here too.

Some of your earlier bands were unquestionably very fast, hardcore-punk bands. And some of the people in those bands went on to do bigger, more established bands kind of still in that world. So what was it that made you want to shift from that into whatever it is that Tile, and now Wipes, became? Because it’s quite the shift.

It’s a huge shift. I’ve been in charge of most of the bands I’ve been in almost all of the time. It’s like doing five schedules. It’s so hard to coordinate that stuff. And I hate to say it, but after like five years a lot of people do move on because life moves on. You get married. You have kids. When I was doing those earlier bands I was already in my late 20’s. Even then my wife and I decided we weren’t going to have kids. That’s the way we were able to focus on scheduling stuff.

But the shift from the punk bands to Tile and now Wipes was that I just wanted to play meaner stuff. I love heavier stuff. My friend Micah was playing me stuff like Iron Monkey. He was like, ‘do you know this?’ and I said ‘no’. And then he asks if I know the band Floor. And I’m like, ‘I’ve never heard it, but I’m so excited’. I mean, Tile came from Floor, ya know? A lot of people don’t know that. They’ll ask how I came up with the name ’Tile’ for a band. I’ll tell them one of the best bands I was into was called Floor. Especially those early 7”s, because I was collecting them from Double Decker Records, going there looking for them because everything was mailorder. You know when you’re behind? Like, you’re behind and you’re trying to catch up? Everyone’s out there using EBay and I just relied on going to the record store, talking to the owner, and getting schooled on this stuff… not in a mean way, but in a ‘you’re into heavy stuff? You should check this out’ way.

So I just became obsessed with Floor. I think there’s one 7”, I think it’s called “Loanin’”. But it’s super gross and mean sounding. And I thought, ‘I want to do a band like that!’ I just wanted to do something new and interesting. I didn’t go to school or anything, I’m a self-taught bassist. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t even know what tuning was. But someone sold me a bass, they needed money to go on tour. So I got this bass, and I can just plug into a PA system, and I literally just ran home and got it. I went to the practice space where a couple friends were working on this other band, and I showed them a couple things I thought of. I figured, ‘can’t we just make noise and play some really heavy riffs?’ So yeah. That’s how it all started.

Carpenter Ant was your band before all that right?

I just did vocals in that band. And I threw a lot of skateboard wheels at people. (laughs). I was the dude with the helmet and the skateboard-mic. That was it.

And you started that band when you were already in your late 20s?

Yeah, late 20’s. That band started in 2000.

Was that your first band?

No, I had a band in high school called Grow. It was really bad hardcore. Lots of chug-chug breakdowns. We had no idea what we were doing. I think we released a demo cassette. Then I came home from boot camp and we recorded some more songs in the studio. This was all pre-internet. So we were literally writing letters to each other trying to coordinate when I was coming home from boot camp so we could go into the studio so I can record these songs before I got shipped out to Japan. It was a different route for sure.

So Tile was the first band where you were playing an instrument.

Yes. Tile started in 2006.

Most people get started on those things when they’re in their late teens and by their late 20’s it fizzles out. But you were just getting started.

Exactly. I literally had no idea what I was doing. It’s just how you do anything though. You get so obsessed. And then you see stuff start to come together. You see riffs fitting together, and making a pattern. And then I would think, ‘oh, this is how I write a song’. If anything people laugh because I was telling them I was learning to play bass by making up my own alphabet on the back of the neck of the bass and hunching over so I could see it. I didn’t know the dots on the neck meant odd numbers.

I remember Mike from Tile was like, ‘why are you hunched over all the time? Is this a thing?’ And I would tell him I wrote my own alphabet on the back of the neck. He says, ‘turn your bass up. The dots are odd numbers’. I was so surprised. I was like, ‘I’ve been doing this for months!’ They thought I was doing some thing where I was intentionally trying to look really odd while I was playing. But I just had no idea what I was doing!

But you become obsessed because you play a few rough tracks for people and next thing you know they’re inspiring friends. A lot of people don’t have that. Most people would say it’s stupid, or ‘I don’t see you going anywhere with that’. Meanwhile, my friends in Jeff the Pigeon and Air Conditioning are supportive. And I would play stuff for Brad from Pissed Jeans because he would fill in for Carpenter Ant, and he’s a rad dude, and he would encourage me to make it into something. So I just kind of got inspired from my friends. It just took off.

Wipes, OG lineup, Bethlehem 2022

I think some of the coolest stuff comes from both isolation and trying to imitate something and doing it wrong. So something else comes out instead and it’s unique and weird. I think that’s a benefit of not learning how to do things the way you’re supposed to, or in a traditional way, and you just kind of figure it out on your own instead. And whatever comes out is kind of singular.

For me it’s just like skateboarding. You try your ass off to figure something out and then a trick just happens and you think, ‘this is amazing!’ I got so inspired and so excited to try and learn it. But then those few friends approach you and say, ‘I know you’ve only been around a couple months but do you want to play a show?’ The first Tile show was with Landed, from Providence, and Air Conditioning. We did maybe four, or five songs, we were a mess, I didn’t even use a tuner. But it just snowballed into me being stoked on doing stuff.

You mentioned skateboarding and that’s what I wanted to segue into because given our age and when we got into things skateboarding and punk used to be synonymous. I’m not so sure that’s entirely the case anymore. I know there’s still crossover there, just maybe not as much as there used to be. But skateboarding is a big part of what you do.

Yeah. I still find musicians in a lot of skateboarding stuff. But it’s not highlighted as much. Now it feels more like, ‘did you watch skateboarding in the Olympics this year?’ It’s not too often where I run into someone who feels that punk and skateboarding are synonymous. They’re on the same wavelength, but I’m really old now! A lot of people say I don’t look it, but I’m still in it. I still think about skateboarding a lot. It’s one thing that makes you free. You literally can go out your door and there’s no rules. I think with skateboarding and music you can just meet anyone whose doing it and say what’s up. I still find it relevant, but a lot of people my age might go to a cleaner skatepark. But for me I feel like I’m just going to go to that abandoned mall and skate a curb.

It got to the point where people are attracted to their environments, so if you feel safe being in this cage, with a fence, and it’s all nice and smooth, but it’s filled with people who have no idea what they’re doing I say go for it. But for me I still love wandering. I feel like if you drive around and find stuff that I can makeshift into a ramp that’s trash, because I still like to do that, and use it that’s still inspiring to me.

Sometimes I do run into someone who still skates and does music, but unfortunately I am an old head so the guys my age can’t do both. They do one or the other.

Ray skating for Lost Soul Skateboards, photo Adam Novicki

Was it punk that got you into skateboarding, or skateboarding that got you into punk?

You know what? It was skateboarding that got me into punk. For real. I was watching really old H-Street videos when they came out, and they were so advanced. I thought they were cool, but I’d keep thinking, ‘who the hell is this band on the soundtrack?’ Or I would see Matt Hensley do stuff, and it then snowballed into someone telling me about this cool radio station that would play this kind of music on Friday nights. So then I was so young, like 12, 13, 14, I was just a kid. I couldn’t really go out and do stuff, I couldn’t drive or go to shows. So I would just put on the radio in my room, go to the station, put a tape in there, and just record this radio station so I could record these tracks. I had no idea what this music was, or what was going on. That’s how I learned.

Maybe a little less important overall, but another piece of the subculture that you and I share, is that we’re both still openly straight edge people who are heavily into noise rock. And most people who are into noise rock are also generally into going to bars. Maybe at our age we’re not super adamant about it, but it’s a thing that we believe in. And I think you’re the only other person in this niche scene I know of who claims that!

It’s true! Just today I was at this vendor market selling records and stuff and I met this guy who was in the 90’s band Conviction. It was the bass player, his name is Ron. And he asked me if I was still straightedge and I said I was, I’m proud of it, not going to hide from it. So then he asked what my band sounded like, was it youth crew? And I was like, ‘Nope. Not even close’

So he asked me to describe it and I told him it sounded like a very slow and angry Melvins sometimes, up to a catchy Nirvana, “In Utero”-meets- Pennsylvania. So he asked if I had any Wipes records and he bought one!

But the thing is, whenever you tell someone you’re straightedge and in a band they assume you’re in a youth crew band, or that’s all you’re into. But I’m still super into powerviolence if it’s done well. I like noise. I like noise rock. It’s an odd thing when you tell people that. And I also like youth crew, if it’s done well. I’m down.

But when it comes to straightedge music, honestly, I just like music. I appreciate all genres.

We’re bucking the stereotype.

You can be straightedge and make heavy noise. You’re allowed.

So since Wipes started you’ve been pretty prolific. You always seem to be writing, recording, releasing a bunch of stuff in a fairly short amount of time. So I have to ask- is it tough to write a song? Does everything make the cut?

Wipes in 2025, photo by Dean Wiley

Not everything makes the cut, and I’m cool with that. The thing is I’ve been reading stuff, and listening to little speeches here and there, from the producer Rick Rubin. And when it comes down to the creative process I don’t want the band to be a Thursday night, get away from the wives or girlfriends and play, and bitch and moan about stuff thing. And then talk about how annoying the system is in America, or how the world is falling apart. So all I do is I come up with a simple riff and we just jam. I think people forget what a real band is. It’s about jamming. It’s about making music, and seeing what you can throw against a wall and what sticks.

Jared from Secret Cutter, who has recorded so many of my projects, asks how I have so many songs. And I just tell him I want to make something once a week, and brainstorm on it, and if it works, cool. If it doesn’t, or it doesn’t make an album, I’m OK with that. I’d rather have too much than not enough. So that’s kind of the formula. I also don’t force it either. I just write when I want to write. I think everyone thinks that when we started the other guys would be writing the majority of the stuff and that I’d be the weak link in writing. But it’s the opposite. I want to do a band that’s fun so if you want something to last you can’t rely on anyone else. You have to do it. That’s how I do Wipes. I’m obsessed with making something cool and not wasting my time. That’s how we come up with so much material.