THE Vandals have really never done quite what's expected of them. During the '80s down in Orange County, punk was nurtured on the waves of rampant, almost forced anarchism that aspired to undo the mainstream commercialism that had canned suburban America. The Vandals, on the other hand, wrote songs that didn't—and still don't—preach to the anarchic choir.

When nearly every other band on the emerging West Coast punk scene was busying itself railing against the politics and powers that be, the Vandals were putting together witty, adolescent riffs on Johnny Sokko and his Amazing Flying Robot, tripping at Disneyland and urinating on deli case cheese.

"We are all close friends," explains Vandals bassist Joe Escalante, commenting on the comedic hilarity in the Vandals' works. "We are constantly joking, so that's the easy part."

The Vandals have always come from a place outside of the mainstream. They've made their farcical and catchy comedic rock for themselves and their fan base that spans the globe—a fact that Escalante owes to paying their dues on the road, "playing as many shows as we could for years and years without getting greedy or starving for fame," and never wavering from a completely indie credo.

For the past two years, Escalante, singer Dave Quackenbush, guitarist Warren Fitzgerald and drummer Josh Freese have traveled to the Middle East—most notably to Iraq, Kuwait, Afghanistan and Kyrgyzstan—with one adamant purpose: to bring the troops a little punk rock.

Moral philosophies and political bandwagon antiwar movements aside, flying halfway around the world as musical emissaries, like some punk rock USO, speaks volumes about the characters and constitutions of these four nerd-core punkers who don't seem to have a political bone in their bodies. So why did they do it?

"That's a no-brainer for nonpolitical bands," explains Escalante. "We make people forget they are about to die; we don't rub their noses in it."

While many musicians and entertainers use their star status as a bully pulpit to promote an agenda, the Vandals just use theirs to entertain.

"You can debate whether entertaining soldiers is right or wrong," says Escalante, "but the subject of good or bad never came up. It was so interesting, we were there entertaining the troops and they appreciated it."

The Vandals, however, weren't given the star treatment. Military leaders didn't announce the Vandals' arrival or close down airstrips for concerts. The troops didn't even know a band was coming.

"They would fly us around in Blackhawk helicopters to the forward-operations bases," says Escalante. They would land, unpack their gear, set up and start playing, and the soldiers stationed at these remote bases would just come out and rock with the Vandals.

"[The troops] are just so grateful you can't believe," says Escalante. "Ten percent of them know who we are, the rest are just as glad that we came once they realize we have somewhat of a career. They were small shows, but way more fun."

According to Escalante, after the Vandals played, "the soldiers would show us they were proud of the job they were doing, that they were helping people and wanted us to get out the good news." He says the soldiers' attitude was matter of fact. "They were like, 'Here's what we do and we do it well.'"

The soldiers told them about the building projects the troops were working on, the schools that have been built and all the infrastructure projects—stuff that's unlikely to appear on the nightly news.

Punk Pass Revoked

Between their performances in Iraq and Kuwait in the spring of '05 and their trip to Afghanistan and Kyrgyzstan in the spring of '06, the Vandals hit their regular tour circuit in Europe, playing in places they'd been to numerous times in the past.

The Vandals kept tour diaries about their trips abroad posted on their website, and when fans and venues learned that the band had been overseas entertaining American troops, they weren't happy.

"Historically, it's ironic," says Escalante, explaining the European backlash, "for the last 10 years, we've toured heavily in Europe, but now, who knows?" So much for all those dues they paid. A couple stints entertaining the troops and their punk rock pass has, in some places, been revoked.

"It's pretty selfish," says Escalante, recalling an incident in an Austrian venue. They canceled the Vandals' show dates and added posts to their website about the Vandals supporting the war. Escalante said that he and the band felt like they were being used to promote someone else's political agenda.

While much of the backlash was in Austria and Germany, Escalante says it was the worst in Italy, and they probably won't go back.

"We had a lot of good Italian food during our run of success there. I shall miss that the most," he says, summing up.

But despite their European frustrations, the Vandals still have plenty to look forward to—their annual holiday show down in Anaheim, for example, where they usually play what Vandals fans believe to be the best holiday album ever made, Oi to the World, in its entirety.

For '07, the Vandals are planning on releasing a new studio album and a DVD, both of which will contain good B sides and BBC recordings, as well as video footage from their stints abroad. They'll also be hitting the Warped Tour next summer.

Other projects abound: Escalante continues to dispense legal advice to aspiring musicians on the radio and run Kung Fu Records. Freese is an accomplished studio musician who, according to Escalante, "plays in many fancy bands and will be there [at the S.F. show]." Warren Fitzgerald writes songs and produces other bands and films and will "be out touring with Gwen Stefani this year, and Dave [Quackenbush] sells a lot of booze." No, really—he has a liquor distribution company.

The unexpected: it's all you can be expect from these four punks.

The Vandals play Friday (Dec. 22) at 9pm at Slim's, 333 11th St., San Francisco. (415.255.0333)

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