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An Interview with TOAD the Wet Sprocket’s Glen Phillips on Music, Mortality, and the Magic of Staying Weird

I first fell in love with Toad the Wet Sprocket during the Fourth of July weekend in 1995, when VH1 aired their “History of Music Video from A to Z.” That’s when I first heard the melodies of All I Want and saw the homoerotic imagery that, up to that point, I had only seen in R.E.M.’s “Losing My Religion.” I wasn’t a fan of the grunge era, so this song instantly resonated with me.

Toad the Wet Sprocket continue to uplift audiences with their melodic alt-rock guitars, introspective lyrics, and signature vocal harmonies—the same qualities that catapulted them to mainstream success over 30 years ago. They return in 2025 for their Good Intentions U.S. headlining tour, joined by Sixpence None the Richer, KT Tunstall, The Jayhawks and Semisonic.

Throughout their career, Toad the Wet Sprocket have remained staunchly independent in their artistic integrity.

Following the success of their second platinum-selling album, Dulcinea, the band released a collection of B-sides and rarities, In Light Syrup, in 1995. The album’s single, “Good Intentions”—the namesake of this upcoming tour—found success on radio, peaking at #23 on the Billboard Hot 100 Airplay chart. The track was featured alongside R.E.M., The Rembrandts, and Barenaked Ladies on the platinum-selling Friends soundtrack and continues to appear in their set lists on recent tours.

I’ll admit: I’ve had a 30-year crush on Toad frontman Glen Phillips (who is known to perform barefoot on stage). So I was thrilled that, after all this time, I’d finally get to talk with him—and surprised to discover how much we have in common, beyond being close in age. I chatted with Phillips via Zoom, and here are the highlights.


The Origin of Toad the Wet Sprocket

Yeah, it’s from an old sketch called Rock Notes on the Contractual Obligation Album. It’s a deep cut. They’re just listing the worst possible band names, and Toad the Wet Sprocket was one of them—right up there with Poached Herring in a White Wine Sauce.

We didn’t have a name, and we were trying to come up with something cool. It was a joke—just something we wanted to see printed once. But then a year went by, and we never thought of a better name. And by then, it was too late.

Upcoming Tour

I mean, balloons, dancing bears, fireworks—the usual! It’s going to be a really fun tour. I’m excited for it.

I’ve always been a big Jayhawks fan—“Waiting for the Sun” is a favorite. I’ve never seen them live, so I can’t wait. I also love Sixpence None the Richer—everyone knows “Kiss Me.” So yeah, we’ll play the songs people want to hear.

We’ll also throw in some newer ones. The last few years, we’ve all looked at ourselves and wanted to level up. It feels good to still be doing this with a new kind of energy and positivity. We’re getting along better. We’ve been through the breakup—and back.


Getting Older, Wiser, and Better

Getting back together wasn’t easy. But now we’ve hit a stride. We realized we could get lazy—or we could step it up. And we chose to step it up.

Making music keeps you young. You don’t need it to stay young in your 20s, but at this point, it’s a pretty good way to live a life.

We feel lucky to still be doing this. Three out of the four original members are still here. And we moved past what breaks a lot of bands apart. It hasn’t always been easy, but it feels really good to have stuck it out.


On Being One of the Most Underrated Bands of the 1990s

Thank you. Yeah, I think we were. We were the sensitive nerds at a time when that wasn’t exactly cool.

We were listening to bands like Hüsker Dü, The Replacements, early U2, and R.E.M. That post-punk, college-radio movement was our core inspiration. At the same time, college and indie music were starting to hit the mainstream.

Radio back then was incredibly open—they played everything. But we weren’t grunge, and we weren’t really pop either. We were just… on our own little island.

I think it was before Elliott Smith made it OK to be sad and whisper. We felt a little out there. We wanted the cool kids to like us, but we were nerds—before nerds ran the world.


Geeks and Nerds Rule Today

We have a lot of STEM folks in our audience now. It’s a whole different world.

I actually gave a talk once about how hard it was to be a nerd growing up. No internet forums back then. You had to go to the local game store to buy your 20-sided dice.

Our audience found us because we talked about things that don’t age badly. At 20, we were worried about the world falling apart, about aging, about keeping your heart open. And we weren’t writing songs about sleeping with groupies. So now, in our 50s, those songs still make sense.


A 1990s Beach Vibe and Growing Up in Santa Barbara

Yeah, people mention a beach vibe sometimes. “Walk on the Ocean” obviously references the ocean. Maybe we’ve got an average amount of oceanic metaphor?

Growing up in Santa Barbara, there’s definitely a chill, coastal thing. My daughter went to college in Colorado and said she felt hemmed in by the mountains. There’s something about the ocean—it’s vast, powerful, and ultimately deadly if you just keep going. But weirdly, it feels expansive.

It’s like looking at mortality. Knowing you’ll die gives you a good reason to live fully. The ocean reminds you how small and powerless you are—and why you should enjoy your precious moments.

Brian Wilson just passed away. He wrote all those surf songs, but he didn’t even surf. It was about the dream of California, not the reality.


Influences and Inspiration

Early on, it was show tunes: Damn Yankees, West Side Story, Rodgers and Hammerstein. My parents didn’t like rock. I also listened to Benny Goodman and Dave Brubeck.

My brother was a Beatles fanatic—he owned every bootleg. He got me into them, Pink Floyd, and later disco. I was obsessed with Studio 54. It looked like freedom. I’d dance on the coffee table when my parents were out.

Then I got dance-shamed by a “friend,” so I pivoted to metal—Ozzy, Iron Maiden, Rush. Metal’s basically opera: dragons, drama, and virtuosity.

When I met the band, I was also into the Replacements, Waterboys, Jane’s Addiction, Indigo Girls. Later: Peter Gabriel, Talk Talk, Cocteau Twins, 4AD bands, Crass, Fear, Gram Parsons. These days: Madison Cunningham blows my mind. She never goes where I expect—and where she goes is better.

Also: King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard—hell yeah.
Lizzy McAlpine—my daughter turned me on to her. She’s great. There’s a lot of good stuff happening right now.


On Benson Boone

Never heard of him. I’ll check him out.



On Songwriting

It’s different now. When I was young, I thought every idea was gold. These days, I do a lot of co-writing. It helps me focus—less distraction, more inspiration.

I think of songwriting now as writing a note from my future self to my present self. Life always hands you something new to write about.

With politics, I try not to be too topical. On our last Toad record, during the Trump years, I tried to write songs that wouldn’t be irrelevant in three years. Write about the swing, not just the moment.

That way, the songs hit more people over time. The human experience doesn’t expire.


On Growing Up Jewish

Yeah, I had a Bar Mitzvah—California Jewish. My mom’s side: Ashkenazi, Ukrainian, kicked out by the Cossacks. My dad: Presbyterian from Iowa, but into Zen meditation.

He gave me the Tao Te Ching, The Tao of Pooh, Idries Shah, Sufi stories. My mom took me to shul. I once told the rabbi, “I don’t believe this.” He said, “That’s fine. Just learn to treat people well.”

That ethical foundation stuck. I’m not dogmatic. I believe people are good at heart—damaged into cruelty. Maybe that’s irrational, but it gives me hope, and that’s enough.

I love animism. You don’t need to believe in a deity to say thank you. Gratitude doesn’t need a receiver to feel good.


Solo vs. Band

I enjoy both. With the band, we know we’ll come up with something good. Solo, I’m still figuring out what I sound like in the studio.

One of my favorite times was touring with Nickel Creek. They’re brilliant, open-hearted, curious—just amazing people. That was a golden era.


The Homoeroticism of the Music Videos

Honestly, most of those videos? We were on tour. We’d get a few treatments, pick one, and film on our day off.

“All I Want” was directed by Hans Neleman, who did our Fear cover. It was a little surreal—he had me spinning on a platform in a white shirt with wings. We didn’t have a real image—we just said, “Sure, let’s do it.”

I’ve had people tell me Dulcinea was a coming-out record. Others said it was about being born again. If you write openly, people see their own story in your words. And that’s beautiful.


Message to LGBTQ+ Fans

I’m so sorry for what’s happening right now. Stay strong. Keep joy alive. Have the most fabulous, funniest, angriest Pride ever.

I was just in the car, listening to Dan Savage—my favorite Seattle export. I’ve tried to get him to a show for years. He changed my life.

The backlash hurts. When things start to open up, it feels like we’re finally where we’re meant to be. Then the pendulum swings back.

But keep hope alive. Keep the humor. Keep the rage. We need all of it right now. And we need each other.

Toad The Wet Sprocket’s Good Intentions Tour will be played in the Following PNW Cites:

JUL 19 / BERKELEY, CA @ The UC Theatre^

JUL 20 / ROCKLIN, CA @ Amphitheatre at Quarry Park^

JUL 23 / EUGENE, OR @ Cuthbert Amphitheater#

JUL 24 / BELLINGHAM, WA @ Mount Baker Theatre#

JUL 25 / SEATTLE, WA @ Moore Theatre#

JUL 26 / SANDPOINT, ID @ Festival at Sandpoint#

^ w/ Sixpence None The Richer 

# w/ Semisonic, Sixpence None The Richer

w/ KT Tunstall, Sixpence None The Richer

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