1997 The Moment I Knew I Wanted To Be In A Band Before I joined 1997, I was a college student with no major and two part-time jobs. I had been rejected from every music school of my choice and was apathetically coasting through my mediocre jobs and uninspiring schooling. I decided that I needed a change, and that music was and always would be the most important thing to me, even if I couldn’t study at a conservatory. I knew there had to be a way to incorporate music into my life for a living without studying professionally. I wanted to travel and experience things instead of going through 4 more years of school. I dropped out of college and decided to let things fall into place on their own. During this time, a friend of mine informed me that her friends’ band was searching for a replacement keyboardist/singer and I jumped at the chance to audition. I had never been in a band before, but I figured that if I had the talent they were looking for, it’d be a great solution to my dilemma. The boys and I began practicing together, and were touring within the next month. Being in a band, especially with all guys, was the most awesome unforeseen change that’s ever presented itself in my life. I had never imagined that I’d have such a strong creative outlet. When I joined this band, I became part of a huge family - one of musicians everywhere who give up their lives to tour and share music with as many people as possible. The relationships I’ve formed with these 5 boys have surpassed most of the relationships I’ve ever had. I knew that I wanted to be in this band for as long as fate would allow as soon as I practiced with them for the first time. There’s nothing like making music with your friends, and being encouraged to share it all over the world. Although I don’t have the stability of a boring 9-5 job, or the security of a college degree, I wouldn’t trade this career for any of the sort. Alida Marroni Add 1997 on MySpace by clicking here.  Fiancé Fiancé and The Fabulous Events Van When most people think about touring bands they have glamorous visions of extravagant 45’ long tour busses with flat-screen televisions and a massive double king bed in the back of the bus, good for nothing but drug-induced, rock n’ roll style orgies. Musicians and people ‘in the know’ are aware that many bands, even those signed to labels, start their touring careers in ‘church-camp’ style vans pulling trailers and driving themselves across country at all hours of the day and night. The reality of the situation is that many bands consider themselves lucky if they even have a big stretch van at all (let alone a trailer) where they can spread out a bit and take in life on the road. Fiancé is not one of the lucky ones. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any stories of our van breaking down, or wheels falling off, or transmissions dropping on I-70 in the middle of Kansas next to the adult store where truckers stop to get their daily fix of porn. In fact, our van has done quite well for us… she has gotten us to all of our shows without fail. However, our van does have some interesting ‘features.’ For one, she is a mini-van. Not a ‘church camp’ van or a stretch van… she is true to her name in that she is ‘mini.’ Now it wouldn’t be that bad except for the fact that we don’t have a trailer. So, not only do we have four grown men squeezed into a space no bigger than a four-door sedan, but we also have every last piece of equipment jammed into the back of this mini-van. The equipment literally fills every square inch of available space, including the space next to the sliding doors (usually, a space reserved for stepping in and out of the vehicle). This makes for a fun hurdling maneuver upon entering and exiting the van for the two guys relegated to sitting in the back seat. There is also the concern of flying guitars (not to be confused with flying V guitars). On the occasion where the van has to stop short, the guitar cases have the propensity of flying into the skulls of the two backseat passengers. We recently discovered the solution to this problem was to bungee the guitar cases to various pieces of equipment toward the back of the van. Though, we have also found that this solution presents a whole new danger of having the bungee slip and snap the backseat passengers into …you guessed it… the back of their skulls. In general, it seems the backseat of our mini-van is a dangerous and severely cramped space in which to travel cross-country for hours at a time. We also figured out that we could save precious equipment cargo space by strapping our personal belongings to the roof of the mini-van… again using our handy bungee cables. This system seemed to work flawlessly until our last tour when Chris’ brand new sleeping bag was lost to the never-ending expanse which is Nebraska’s I-80. We can only hope that a hitchhiker somewhere is sleeping warm tonight on the side of the road. If it is not bad enough that four men are cramped into a 5’x5’x5’ tin box for hours at a time, the mini-van has one other fascinating feature. Patrick’s mom happens to own an event planning business in which she does a lot of party décor. The name of her company is Fabulous Events and like any savvy business woman, she advertises her business on the side of her min-van in very decorative, curly-cue, pink and purple writing garnished with balloons and stars. In fact, it is the same van that Fiancé borrows for weeks out of the year to tour with. While we are incredibly grateful that we have access to a van of any kind, you can imagine that when four men with tight pants and long hair get out of the Fabulous Events mini-van in rural America, we are not greeted as local folk. We all feel lucky to have a van and to be able to use it for touring the country and playing music for our fans. In fact, we have come to really appreciate what the ‘FabEvents’ van has to offer. And on the off chance that you and a few friends are taking a road trip and come across a white mini-van cruising down the highway with balloons decals in the windows, sleeping bags flying off the roof, and four grown men inside who resemble clowns in a clown car… wave! We’d love to say, “hi!” Michael James Learn more about Fiancé by visiting fiancemusic.com. The Lives Of Famous Men When We Scrabble, We Scrabble For Keeps It’s morning – early for me, 9ish – and I’m sitting in something of an artifact of retro ‘50s decor at a place called the “Flying M Coffee Garage” in the small college town of Nampa, Idaho. Last night we played on a makeshift stage to a handful of coffee drinkers in the adjoining room, the garage portion of the aptly named coffee garage. Despite novice efforts at running our own sound, the crowd seemed to enjoy themselves. We had a chance to talk to a few people after the show and the staff – who by the way were about as friendly and hospitable as could be - sent us off with three Styrofoam containers of day-old bakery goods, which are the modern-day equivalent of pirate booty when you’ve been living off of gas station food for the past eight weeks. Tomorrow we will play to a few hundred people at a reputable theater in Salt Lake City. This is more or less the ebb and flow of touring life as we have come to know it. It is always an interesting experience when one (or in this case five) spends an extended period of time in what is, for all intensive purposes, an 18X6X6 ft. box. When traversing large sections of the country by van or what have you, there are a number of activities that help to pass the time and my assumption is that every touring band has its own unique set of on-the-road activities (that is, in addition to standard travel activities, listening to music, reading, watching films, etc.). At any given time Dylan will be immersed in a Philip K. Dick novel, Jason will be reading up on the various methods of lucid dreaming, Andrew will be working fastidiously on a crossword from the previous city’s local zine, Ari will be plugged into the internet as if it were an organic extension of his body like in The Matrix, and I will be, somewhat defeatedly, redialing a phone call that has already dropped six times as we careen though Mountain Standard Time. We also have bonding time. When we Scrabble, we Scrabble for keeps. The only problem is that, even with the travel edition, pieces quickly become casualties to seat cushions and loose clothing. We also play our own brand of iPod shuffle where one is awarded one point for correctly naming the artist and an additional point for correctly naming the song title. If one makes an incorrect guess, points are not subtracted, but he is then subjected to mockery and ridicule until the song finishes. Since no two members of the band have the same taste in music, there is a sort of “home court advantage” for whomever the iPod belongs. If the owner ventures an incorrect guess, he is then subjected to an even more abrasive type of ridicule. When running low on creativity, we often resort to pastimes such as “How many people do think have ever been on that mountain?” which is exactly what it sounds like and therefore relatively short-lived. Then there are movie nights. Movie nights usually take place on drives that can only be accomplished by driving overnight from one venue to the next. We would probably be considered amateur movie buffs in that we are able to hold semi-intellectual conversations about how film will never be taken as seriously as other art mediums despite merit in storytelling and presentation, and how Elephant created a new capacity for how much a film can suck. We are about to leave the “Flying M Coffee Garage” and say our temporary goodbyes to the staff which, in addition to sending us off with our pirate booty, put us up in a house around the corner that sits atop a salon and an empty space seeking occupants. It is worth noting that this was not simply a second-story apartment without architectural variation, but a ranch house on top of a building. We literally walked across shingles to get to the front door. To the readers of this essay that have little or no travel under their belts, I encourage you to take some personal time, get a few friends together, and get on the interstate. See a part of the country you’ve never seen before, meet the people that give new places their color and texture. We’ll see you out there. Dan Hall Add The Lives Of Famous Men on MySpace by clicking here. Revolt Turns Two! Terrible Two While most other online music magazines are scurrying around to bring you their “Best Of 2007″ lists, Revolt is reflecting on a more personal aspect of 2007. Sure, it’s holiday time and yes, New Year’s Eve is right around the corner. But it’s also our birthday! It’s true, Revolt is now two years old! What started as just an inkling of an idea has grown to huge proportions. The Revolt Team has grown and worked hard throughout 2007 to bring our readers the most informed, most descriptive and most genuine music reviews and interviews from your favorite bands. We’re looking forward to 2008 to bring you even more of the same. In 2007, the Revolt Team conducted 33 interviews. We shared stories, jokes and got real with bands such as Sum 41, Bayside, HIM, Static-X, Aiden, Schoolyard Heroes, Powerman 5000, Dear And The Headlights, William Tell, All Smiles, Atreyu, Ronnie Day, Foreign Born, National Product, Oh Hush! and many more. In 2007, Revolt also had 36 Guest Editorials written by some talented musicians and friends, including The Junior Varsity, Ben Kweller, Guttermouth, Bouncing Souls, The City Drive, The Transit War, Mike Vallely, Scanners, No Use For A Name, Oh No Not Stereo and plenty of others. We also wrote 240 reviews - CDs, EPs and live events - bringing you insight on new talent, trusted old schoolers, and even those that failed to impress. From The Killers, PJ Harvey, Atreyu, Hot Hot Heat, The Anthem Sound, Holy Roman Empire, Sea Wolf and Ryan Adams, Revolt covered just about every genre there is in today’s music. While 2007 brought us growth, new partnerships and new opportunities, we are looking forward to the future. We’re excited to start 2008 with some great interviews, intelligent reviews, new audio & video streams and more free downloads. Thanks for sticking with us. Keep reading Revolt - after all, your new favorite band could just be one click away. Stay golden PonyBoy, Add Revolt on MySpace by clicking here. Stealing Jane We Got Ditched! Our first time playing in Maine was a blast. We met some awesome people, and took a ridiculous amount of pictures of the sunsets over the mountains. We found out later that none of the pictures came out, but it was alright because we loved being there. One of the best times we had in Maine took place at 2am in the morning… on what is now known as a “nice little At the time we were learning to use our GPS system. It kept telling us to turn onto these tiny dirt roads, and of course we followed the instructions. Vito was driving, and he kept following the instructions, each turn and twist in the road seemed to take us further into the woods, and farther away from civilization. Eventually, we were led to a road where we had no choice but to go up, so out comes the video camera. We realized that the dirty, muddy road was not quite wide enough for our van, let alone the trailer we were hauling behind us. For about a half mile, we headed up and up until the road became too steep and muddy for our poor van to bring all of us and our equipment any further, and we slid down into a ditch on the side of the road which was in reality, more of a path for a nature hike. [I am convinced no car had ever been there before.] Once the van stopped, we all piled out to survey the situation. After a bunch of ideas had been thrown around, I jumped behind the wheel and attempted to back down the hill, out of the trench, and back onto the path. Little did I know that Dave was lurking in the shadows near the nose of the van, and when I hit the gas he got thrown into a bush. I kept going, as I tried to swing the van into the woods so I could get the trailer out of the ditch. I bent my driver side mirror back, and held trees back as the front of the van came swinging through the saplings. At one point, Matt had to come into the woods to hold a tree back for me. At this point, everyone got behind the van and we tried a big heave to give me some momentum to get to the top of the hill, which seemed pretty close. We counted to three, and I hit the gas as they all pushed like mad men, and slowly but surely the van and the trailer started inching to the top of the hill. As I watched the tracks from where we were stuck pass underneath me, the wheels started to skid and I hit the braked to keep from landing in the ditch again. All the guys decided to hike up to the top of the hill to see if it was worth trying again. All of a sudden, I saw them come running back down screaming that they saw something moving. I am convinced it was two fireflies that looked like glowing eyes, or something of that nature. Regardless, they were too spooked to attempt getting over that hill again. We started to back down that half mile of dirt path with the van, and the fully loaded trailer attached. Even with the brakes on, I would slide into the ditches here and there. It was a rough trip down, but it definitely brought us closer together as a band, and we learned to definitely check the avoid dirt roads button on a GPS system! Bryce Larsen Learn more about Stealing Jane by visiting stealingjane.com. The City Drive A Found Diary Something magical happened to The City Drive at this year’s Warped Tour. We got upgraded to the Hurley stage. It was such an honor. We got to play with The Almost, Bayside, Amber Pacific, The Spill Canvas and more. It felt great to play for so many people. We hope we’re asked to return next year. Something else magical happened that day. I stumbled upon a very special book which was inconspicuously resting in the shade of a lime tree, narrowly avoiding the sun’s fiery shower. It appeared to be nothing more than a carelessly discarded notebook, tossed by the wayside, forgotten. But it was more than that. It was a personal, handwritten and very revealing diary containing the thoughts of one of the most important people in recent history, I checked the precious tome for a name, address or phone number but there was nothing written inside other than the rantings of a frustrated, anonymous genius. Here are some of the entries… THURSDAY Raise The Roof. The equation is tickling in it’s simplicity: One person, two hands, three words. But that was then… Think, man, think. What’s next? FRIDAY SATURDAY Whoa. Wait a second. Wait one second. “Got Nothin” Hmmm…Lemme see: Homeslice #1: “Whaddup, fool?” Could work. Could work… SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY COME! ON!! WEDNESDAY THURSDAY What did I wear that day? What was my lucky shirt that day? Lucky shirt. Lucky shirt. Dammit! Why don’t I write that shit down? I know what I definitely did not wear that day. I did not wear this shirt that I have worn every damn day for the past five years which reads: I-AM-A-DAMNED-ONE-TRICK-PONY-WHO CAN’T-THINK-OF-ONE-DAMN-NEW-NATION-SWEEPING-CATCHPHRASE! Now I can’t stop thinking about eggs. FRIDAY SATURDAY SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY NOTHING!!!! DAMMIT!! F*@#!!! WEDNESDAY THURSDAY So far, my best one is “I Gotta Dad, I Gotta Mom, I Hear A Tune And It’s The Bomb”. I don’t know. It’s kind of long. And f*@#ing stupid. FRIDAY Wow. It’s already 3:57am! I guess I should turn in so I can be fresh tomorrow and FIND THAT PHRASE! I’ll say goodnight now. I’m going to sleep. G’NIGHT. First though, I’m gonna go eat an egg. It goes on from there for another eight or nine hundred pages. It is such a powerful read becasue while it’s cultural relevance is inarguable, it can also be said that one kind of “gets” the entire idea after a few pages. Oh. And the closest he gets to a good catchphrase (as far as I am concerned) is “Shake Those Cooties Off Those Booties!” but it, like many of his creations, was kind of long. And f*@#ing stupid. Danny Smith Check out Danny Smith’s first Guest Editorial by clicking here. DJ Prestige My Most Memorable Gigs When I started DJing early on, I did a DJ night with rap photographer Rickey Powell. He came down and did an exclusive slide show. He brought along books of slides, then hand-fed them into a slide projector while I spun. Even though he showed up tripping off his face, the show still went off without a hitch, the bar was packed and we had a great time. Then, he freaked out, missed his train back to NYC, and took a cab all the way back to Manhattan - which was like an hour or so away. For weeks, he was hounding me to pay his cab fare. I really wish I would have saved those answering machine messages! The next gig that was memorable was playing at the Playboy Mansion. I was involved in a project that had music in a video game called Playboy: The Mansion and we were invited to play the party for it. The Playboy Mansion is really strange. There’s a zoo on the property, and they have all these flamingos just walking around. You might be setting up and it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for a flamingo to be shitting next to you and making a scene. Nobody does anything there; they just let it happen. Also, there are tons of Playboy Playmates….from every era. There’s a whole bunch of Playmates walking around all sultry and they’re my mother’s age (and some of them did not age well!). They also invite all the D List celebrities – like aging rock stars and bad comedians - just to pack the place. The food and help were really cool, but up close, Hef looks like he’s being worked by a puppeteer from above. Probably the latest, most memorable gig I did was opening for Bad Brains. I did a straight up old school reggae set. After the gig, Dr. Know came up to me and gave me props. To have an artist I have looked up to since I was young come up and say he digs what I do… for me, that was a definite memorable moment. Keep diggin, ******* Check out DJ Prestige’s Fleamarket Funk by clicking here. Photos: DJ Bluewater The Dear & Departed
I’m not sure exactly which LP I bought first. It was either Kiss Alive II or The Cure’s Pornography. Ultimately, the latter would end up shaping my outlook on life far more than the cheap thrills of glam rock. I remember buying that record from a second hand record store in Cardiff and being embarrassed when handing it to the cashier. It felt like contraband. Though it was the first Cure album I owned, I was familiar with a few of their upbeat hits that filled the radio waves when my father would drive us around. Pornography is an album that signifies a change in my life. I can’t even remember the last time I listened to it - perhaps because I don’t like sharing the experience with anyone. Stand out tracks for me were “One Hundred Years Cold” and “The Hanging Garden.” It is a gateway album for me in which I can find new direction with each listen. David Williams, Bass *******
Naturally, the Eurhythmics made up a large portion of my adolescent listening and therefore, my taste and style has been shaped by it. Annie’s strong androgynous looks intrigued me and made me realize that sometimes people look amazing when they don’t appear typical of their sex. Not to say that she isn’t a beautiful woman, but as a child I was taught that longhair is for girls and short hair is for boys. I wouldn’t really describe my current look as androgynous but I am definitely enthusiastic to explore all elements of fashion and art. Dan Under, Vocals Read Revolt’s interview with The Dear & Departedby clicking here. William Tell Hitching A Ride When my old band Something Corporate had first started touring, we had a big white van and trailer that we drove ourselves. As any touring band will tell you, when you’re sitting in a van, the long drives between cities day after day can get very tiring and boring, and you try all kinds of things to keep your mind off the drive. Most of these remedies, such as movies on the laptop, music, long random conversations and card games in the back seat work well. However, problems arise if these distractions also distract the driver and he gets so intensely involved in the conversation or the music on the iPod that he forgets to look at the gas gauge. …So there we were, on the side of the highway in the middle of Texas. There is nothing in the middle of Texas. No gas station or city for miles and miles. After coming to the conclusion that there wasn’t a valid AAA membership between any of us, I stuck out my thumb. An old Dodge Caravan pulled up. We told the middle-aged man driving what had happened and he said he’d drive us till we spotted a gas station. Three of us got into the back of his minivan. There weren’t any seats so we sat on the floor that was littered with Bible tracks. After a few miles he began asking questions: where we were from, what kind of music we played, and so on. We answered kindly and quickly, trying to avoid as much conversation as possible with the odd man driving. He then began to tell us that since we were singing songs about girls and our own trivial problems instead of about Jesus and Heaven, we were going to probably going to die a painful death and end up in hell. He went on to explain that the reason the people in the World Trade Center had died was because they lived sinful lives and probably listened to the same kind of music that we made. Once we got to the gas station, the man insisted that he would then take us back to our van. Without another option available (as well as some confidence that if he tried to pull over and kill us for our “sins” the three of us could take him), we agreed. There’s no spectacular ending to the story. We made it back safe. Though a bit of an extremist, the man was nice enough to drive us to the gas station and back, and he left us with some colorful brochures advertising his hometown church in case we ever decided to stop in this part of Texas again. We never did. William Tell ******* Read Revolt’s interview with William Tell by clicking here. National Product What The Fuck Was That, Dude??? I have a crazy story. We were on tour with our good friends Fiore, driving from Albuquerque, New Mexico to Las Cruces for Warped Tour. Each drive we were doing on this tour was roughly 6-8 hours every night, which is pretty normal for us. However on this ride, everyone was overly tired. We were in a three van convoy heading down the 25 ultra late at night. Three guys were passed out, one was on his phone, I was playing Halo and the driver (our tour manager) and bass player were up front. We were in the middle of the desert and there were absolutely no street lights. It felt like the movie The Hills Have Eyes. We started to joke about deer and how scary it would be for one of them to jump out and how even scarier it would be if a human or a creature was just standing in the road, kind of like that movie about that creature that could fly and would steal skin off of people, and murder them. I can’t even remember the name of the movie, but it lived in a barn and made its walls out of human bodies. Anyhow, we were already getting ourselves all psyched up on the drive and 20 minutes after the conversation with nothing but silence in the van, our tour manager and bass player start screaming and the van pulls hard to the right. All the cars in the convoy with trailers are swerving hard to the right and our tour manager keeps yelling, “Holy shit! What was that, dude? What was that?! Did you guys see that!!?!?!?” By this time, everyone in the back is scared shitless, wondering what the hell just happened. Our bass player looks back and says “Dude, there was a dead body in the street!” Everyone starts freaking out as we pull off to the side to park and the other guys in the van in front of ours start getting out of the vehicle scared and yelling, “What the fuck was that, dude???” The tour manager starts telling us that he saw a guy, on his knees covered in blood from head to toe, looking up at the sky with his arms spread out. Everyone kept saying, “No way dude. We are in the middle of the desert; there isn’t a house around for another hour or two.” Well, we called the cops and they said it would take about 20-30 min at top speed. Me and Bret from Fiore went and grabbed a single Mag Light and began to walk down the road towards whatever this thing was. Our band was screaming at us, telling us to stop being assholes and not go anywhere because something may happen. Bret and I felt this immediate sense of responsibility to help this person if they were dying or whatever, but…. And this is a big BUT… At the same time, we didn’t know what the hell was back there and we were told it was old Indian reservation ground. And man, 2 band dudes, 1 mag light, and pitch black dark….we were scared shitless. We got about 50 yards down and then shut off the mag just to freak ourselves out for a second and then we booked ass back to the van. “Yeah man, ummm, we’re just gonna wait for the police to come!” The police finally came and it turns out, this guy was an illegal immigrant, walking for 6 days in the desert. He was picked up by some driver who robbed him, gave him a bottle of alcohol which he thought was water and kicked him out of the car. He was severely intoxicated, hence his delirium, and covered in blood from falling over things in the night. He died right there and they spent 20 minutes reviving him in which he was going in and out of consciousness. They said they weren’t sure if he would live but the way that ambulance drove past us, we knew he had a chance. We all sat on the roofs of our vans for 30 minutes afterwards, letting it sink in and we prayed for the dude. After that, everyone was wide awake and in complete silence the entire trip. I think we all reflected on how lucky we were: 1) to be alive, 2) to live in a country where someone would walk for 6 days just to enter it, and 3) to have witnessed something like this that would affect us in such a way that 1 & 2 of what I just said would never be taken for granted. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Danny Casler ******* Add National Product on Myspace by clicking here. |
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What is your first memory of someone else’s music influencing your life?
The first song that I can remember listening to and singing along with is “Walking On Broken Glass” by Annie Lennox. The songs structure and string sections are very unique and I think I often judged many other recordings by how they measured up to it.