Weekend Guide: 01.29.2021
Getting in the van again
Playing live music is fun. It also sucks. My 20’s were spent playing in bands that would sporadically play shows across the Northeast. Mostly in basements. Sometimes in bars. Other times in actual music venues. Philadelphia. Pittsburgh. New York. Trenton. New Brunswick. Baltimore. That’s about it. We never cobbled together an actual tour. Not that there was ever any demand from our small but rabid fanbases (lol). The idea of living van life scared me to death. I opted for a 9-5 and a steady paycheck. Henry Rollins would not approve. But more on that later.
The payoff was never there. Emotionally or financially. I tried it on, but the shoe didn’t fit. I have a very vivid memory of driving three hours from Philly to Baltimore on a Friday night. We played to a room that consisted of three people - a drunk middle aged couple who we convinced to “come check us out” while standing outside of the venue smoking cigarettes. And a Neil Young impersonator who just finished a set at the coffee shop next door.
👓 We played some shows that were more well attended, but not really. 👓
I drove us all back in my Honda CRV. We listened to Evil Empire by Rage Against The Machine front to back. We talked a lot about how amazing that album is and how Down Rodeo is easily the best song they ever made. Much better than Bulls on Parade. Even though that song really fucks.
I lived for those moments. The ones in the CRV. The ones between songs at practice. In retrospect, playing live shows was a means to a hang. An intimate type of hang - where you win together and you fail together. Emphasis on the fail part.
Sure. We had a lot of fun. There were great shows where our friends came. We gave it our all and left the stage high on our own supply. The lead up to the show, and the comedown were always the highlights. The nerves, the excitement, the shared fear for of the unknown. Playing for other people was always secondary. Almost unnecessary.
The stoics would say, the obstacle is the way or the only way through is through. Trust the process. For me, getting in the proverbial van was all I really needed. I was fine with just the hang. That’s likely why I am not still slugging it out on the road.
Only recently have I been able to revisit that time of my life. I want to make more music with my friends. It seems like a lifetime ago. In a way it was. For now i’ll just close my eyes and get back in the van.
Dan Svizeny records on Spotify
Why the trip down memory lane? Well. This week I received my (signed) copy of Get In The Van by Henry Rollins. GITV is part memoir part tour diary. It’s comprised of journal entries Rollins kept while on tour with Black Flag from 1981-1986. Its raw, direct and at times super uncomfortable. Rollins is a polarizing figure. Most people I know dislike him. He is steadfast in his beliefs, and is pretty ‘my way or the highway’ about everything. I appreciate his monk like discipline and continued quest for perfection. If it’s not for you, no harm no foul.
The book itself has been pretty hard to obtain. I first read it a few years back on kindle because it was the only place I could score it. You can now find a reissued, signed copy on his website. Very not punk!
I quite enjoy the Henry Rollins/Black Flag years. I’ll save you my music critique, but from what I can gather, they saved a rather boring genre (hardcore) from being a noisy blip on the radar of music history. Thanks to Raymond Pettibon, their visuals will go down as all time great. And the Rollins-era catalog is as mind bending has hardcore has ever been (The Process of Weeding Out).
Below are a few highlighted selections from my kindle run through. From here you should be able to gather the tone. 👇
“Books can knock you out just as hard as Led Zeppelin”
-Henry Rollins
On the re-read, Get In The Van felt more like a guide: a hardcore manifesto, maybe even a stay-hard-at-all-times self help formula. For me, it’s a reminder of a life not lived. The path not taken. Not to compare myself with Rollins, or my bands to Black Flag, but you get the picture.
I would give Get In The Van a read if you are into rock scene books like:
Enjoy the weekend. Put on your favorite record and go tripping down memory lane. Thanks for riding with me.
Let me know if you have ever got in the van to play shows. Or maybe you are also into Black Flag and want to share an insight. You know I love emails and comments!
Peace and love.
These memories are bittersweet, aren't they? We keep looking at music through a lens of 'this could make us famous' instead of 'will the music make us happy?' I think of all those indie shows in the late '00's and early '10's often. When they made us think that partying and rock n' roll would lead us all to some kind of wonderland professional music gurus. Those basement shows were drunk on the idea that the time had come. That night was the night to launch a band into an ultimate record deal. But I suppose that for some, it actually was. Taking a leap was hard but not impossible.
I Got in the Van only once in my life (it was actually either a Yukon or Suburban borrowed from my friend Pat's grandfather, who lived in Abington or thereabouts), and I am trying to recall the precise itinerary without bringing up google maps. Here goes: syracuse -> rochester -> fredonia (basically buffalo, but also maybe not?) -> akron -> cleveland (heights) -> ypsilanti (basically detroit, but maybe not?) -> london, ontario, canada -> pittsburgh -> home.
I was 19 and had met my bandmates in Janet Drive earlier in the year at an art school kids' party. We all seemed to have the same taste in tunes, loved hanging out and watching DVDs together, and wrote about 8 or 9 songs. I glommed onto the band as the young pup--band member #5, a year or so younger than my colleagues. I think they were eager to have another person play git and maybe provide two additional, critical ears in the basement on Redfield Place. I had one multi-effects pedal and could tune to drop-d.
On the "tour," I remember we kept a quote book. Can that still be a thing? I guess the equivalent at this point would be keeping track of riffs, bits, gags, and goofs in the Notes app? Either way, that was how we meme'd back then--reciting the same bits over and over again. Like you said: you either win together or fail together; both sides of the coin need to be documented IMO.
In Rochester, we played to the soundman because the band Boys Night Out, who we were supposed to open for, decided that afternoon to move to a larger venue down the street but didn't tell anyone. I wasn't old enough to drink legally, but I remember sitting at the bar when a dude who definitely had sat backseat in the Mirth Mobile walked by to exclaim, "MARE-SHALLLL," drunkenly pointing at my friend Pat's amplifier. My amp was a Crate, and we drove 90 minutes back to Syracuse that night just to drive back in the same direction to Buffalo-ish the next day.
I remember calling my mom on Mother's Day from Canada outside of a diner/luncheonette on a 3390B Nokia cell phone, wondering just how much that call just cost. I also remember checking my email and probably some forums at the downtown Ann Arbor public library.
Booking even a quick jaunt like this must have been impossible back then. Our drummer Marissa did it all--I think--using email and mp3.com, which was kind of like a proto-proto-Bandcamp. In Pittsburgh, we showed up to a garage/warehouse situation to play a 7-band gig that had been cancelled the week before. Just one of the most deflating feelings, but if you've been In the Van, I guess you know the vibe. At least the route home brought us right through Fredonia, where singer Mark had forgotten his suitcase the week before. Completely unrelated, but I parked my car on the wrong side of the street in Syracuse that night (early morning?) we arrived home and had to overdraw my checking account the next morning to get it back.
When you're 19, I guess you can use a sweatshirt as a bedroll, and you can thumb through the same two issues of FHM and Maxim for a week. A completely different time! Your tale, Dan, dredged up a bunch of memories. One obvious one was seeing Cool Cough Band at KFN in 201? (!!!). A beautiful show, and the first time I met JPM :)
I really only speak to one member of Janet Drive these days, and I imagine that that distance is due not only to time but also that week or so we spent together failing and funning. I'm confident saying, "no hard feelings" at this point in life. I'm also making music with new friends at the moment and enjoying it so much. I don't want to ever get In the Van again and ruin it.