How some humble musicians from NJ helped make up some of my favorite memories
(This post is a little all over the place and I'm not going to fix it because I wrote it on a single flight from Atlanta to Miami and I feel like there's something poetic in that. Or maybe I'm just too tired. Either one.)
Four years ago this week, some events unfolded that have come to be my some of my favorite memories. Many of you that know me have heard these stories a thousand times, and I apologize for that. I give you permission to stop reading, if you like haha. But I'd like to have this down as a sense of closure or something. Or just a means for me to better remember. I am referring to the time I got to live many young people's dream of meeting my favorite band. River City Extension. But there's a little more than that explicit experience. Well, a solid four year's worth. Sorry, friends. This'll be a long one.
I don't know why I'm deciding to write about this now. I'd imagine it's a combination of a lot of things. Part the fact that I'm on an airplane headed towards Miami then another to Havana, performing my traveling ritual of listening to Letter to Lainie as the plane takes off. Part the fact that the LAST time I was on a plane was coming home from New Jersey on Thanksgiving Day, after spending the previous evening at RCE's farewell show at the Stone Pony. And lastly, part this little thing called Timehop which reminded me that it had been four years ago this very day that I had seen them perform live for the first time. But there were stories even before then.
My first memory of RCE was picking up the 2011 Warped Tour Compilation at Best Buy which was on sale for $5.99 near the end of my freshman year of high school. I can relive this very vividly because it was one of those moments in which the universe said, "HEY! Remember this moment. Shit's about to happen. This is going to be a very relevant moment in your life." Like one of those 'little did she know moments' in a book. Track eight of that little CD pack was Our New Intelligence, a lyrically and instrumentally genius song that was unlike anything I'd ever heard. I'm pretty sure to this day, that song is the most played song in my entire iTunes library. Soon after, I immersed myself in the rest of the Unmistakable Man album, with Nautical Sabbatical a close second, and I fell in love. Soon after, my family was on board as well. Even my 8-year-old brother would sing along to most of their songs. So we were all ecstatic when we found out they'd be playing a few shows at the SXSW music and film festival in Austin that spring. The week before my 16th birthday nonetheless. When the time came, my wonderful parents packed up our minivan with my brother, my best friend, and me, and took us to Austin.
Once we got into our hotel, we got to work trying to identify when we'd be able to see them perform without being restricted by the fact that there were two 15-year-olds and a child among us. As fate would have it, at that moment, the band tweeted that they were in need of a ride into downtown Austin. My dad, being the cool musician father he is, told me to respond with our phone number. So I did. And then we forgot about it. That is, until my mother got a text from one of the band members asking if we were still down to come get them. Squealing ensued. Shortly, we were on the road to go get them from their hotel. This is still one of those moments I have to remind myself was real. Joe, James, and Mike were as kind to us as they could possibly be. They even played us the beginning of their new record, which wasn't due to come out for another two months. Overall, it was a wonderful experience. But it did not end there. Not by a long shot. The next few days, we managed to meet Sam, Dan, Jen, Nick, and Patrick and see them perform multiple times. I thought I had loved them before, but nothing, NOTHING compares to a live set done by River City Extension. Especially in a tiny biker bar in Austin with Brick+Mortar and the Frontbottoms as the opening acts (that show holds a special place in my heart). And this week ended in Joe singing my family a beautiful song called "Today I Feel Like I'm Evolving" on a corner of 6th street. Overall, more than I could have ever asked for.
When Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Your Anger came out in June, Maggie and I bragged about how we were the first fans to have ever heard the album and we squealed with joy when a Dallas show was announced. Before entering the bar in Deep Ellum (I can't for the life of me remember which one it was), we said we wouldn't be offended if all of them had forgotten us. But this wasn't the case at all. Joe took one look at us and ran to greet us with hugs. Patrick did the same. The line-up of the band had changed slightly, but every member was still so excited to see us. And that felt amazing for two 16-year-old girls.
In the years following, Maggie and I never missed a Dallas RCE show. How could we? They were our livelihood. And each year and each album made our love grow even more. I remember at one point, they even arranged a service in which a few members of the band would come and play a personal show if you had a location within 15 miles of the venue. Luckily for us, Presbyterian roots grow deep and we had a friend within the perimeter (shout out to Miatta, we're still eternally grateful). We were accompanied to this little get together by a few of our other friends who had gotten into them. To be completely honest, we should have started a Dallas RCE fan club.
While the experiences I had with this group of wonderful people would stand alone as to why I love them, each member always showing such kindness to myself and my family, that doesn't even begin to stock it up to their music. God, I love their music. No matter the line-up and no matter the album, they've always managed to give me chills. If the sheer niceness of these people and the sheer persistence of myself to convince anyone and everyone to listen to them hasn't convinced you, just do it. Go now.
Their music got me through more things than I can count. From heartbreaks, to off days, to family deaths, to people leaving, to friendships ending, to anything. They were the thing that could keep me together. Anyone that knows me knows that music is a very important part of my existence, and theirs more so than anything else.
As one can see, I loved this band a lot. So that's why I was absolutely heartbroken when they broke up this past fall.
Don't get me wrong, I understand why it had to happen. And I respect the band's decision wholeheartedly. But that doesn't change the fact that it was ROUGH.
So of course, upon hearing there'd be a farewell show happening, I pulled out all of the stops. My parents received a formal email from me stating just why I HAD to be there ("You both raised me to believe that the world is made of stories instead of atoms. Are you really going to keep me from seeing this story through to the end?") and I believe I might have threatened to find my own way there if they had said no. So for an early Christmas present, I received two tickets to NJ. My dad wasn't going to miss it either, he said.
When my dad and I touched down in NJ, things were bittersweet. I had waited so long to see them again (and they had managed to get 7 of the 8 original members back on board, so some I hadn't seen since I was 15) that I panicked when I realized how much I needed to cherish every second I had left. After sharing this sentiment, my dad looked at me and said, "The last good thing hasn't happened yet." And per usual, he was right.
Before heading to the show at the Stone Pony, we stopped at an Italian restaurant, which coincidentally many members of the band were at as well. It took some members longer than others to remember me, but they all pretty well got there. And everyone was very shocked and impressed that we had come all the way from Texas.
Next up was the show itself. Brick+Mortar opened for them (let me take a second to brag about them too. Brick+Mortar is amazing. These two guys are as sweet and talented as can be and were recently wrongfully dropped by their record label. Go listen to them too). And during their set I ran into Sam Tacon, a previous member. Sam had always been one of my idols and I went to reintroduce myself. I got up to her and managed to say, "Hi Sam, you probably don't remember me, but-" and was interrupted with, "Of COURSE I remember you! How ARE you? How's your family? Did you come all the way from Texas?" and was kissed on both cheeks multiple times. I could have cried right there. A similar exchange happened with Jen right before RCE went on. Both of these exchanges meant the world to me. The two women I had idolized the most in my life remembered me after having not seen me for four years. But they're just that kind of people.
Before the set started, I managed to push my way up from the very back to the very front (I'm no amateur, I had the bruises to prove it) to where a friend Maggie had met through the Internet and a mutual love of the band was waiting. He and his sister welcomed me with open arms and were as sweet as could be.
Finally, the band walked on. It started with the most recent members who played the whole of their most recent album, Deliverance. I got to jump around and scream-sing and have all of the experiences I hadn't had for years. Then, Joe sang some of his other stuff and one-by-one invited the original members on stage. The first being Jen, who was crying. Now as I had mentioned before, I was feeling a bit melancholy before the plane even touched down, but seeing Jen in tears, made me tear up as well. Then they started playing Today, I Feel Like I'm Evolving. And I started to remember my first experiences so many years earlier. And how much had changed since then. And I started to cry. A lot. I then look down and saw a text from Patrick saying, "Hold it together, girl. The night's not over yet." Which prompted more tears. Patrick then sent over his marvelous girlfriend Natalie, who came to give me a hug. We then spent the rest of the night singing and enjoying together.
Post-show my dad and I went to say goodbye to the band and say thank you for all they had done. We then went on to meet Chris, another friend of Patrick's, and hung out with he, Patrick, and Natalie well into early Thanksgiving morning. Once we had been sufficiently worn out, Patrick drove us back to our hotel. Which has a nice symmetry and completeness to it. And that was the end of that part of the story.
I would just like to thank all of the people that I mentioned in this little post of mine, I'm blessed to have gotten to know each and every one of you. Thank you for helping make up some of the best moments of my life. And remember, the last good thing hasn't happened yet.
(This post is a little all over the place and I'm not going to fix it because I wrote it on a single flight from Atlanta to Miami and I feel like there's something poetic in that. Or maybe I'm just too tired. Either one.)
Four years ago this week, some events unfolded that have come to be my some of my favorite memories. Many of you that know me have heard these stories a thousand times, and I apologize for that. I give you permission to stop reading, if you like haha. But I'd like to have this down as a sense of closure or something. Or just a means for me to better remember. I am referring to the time I got to live many young people's dream of meeting my favorite band. River City Extension. But there's a little more than that explicit experience. Well, a solid four year's worth. Sorry, friends. This'll be a long one.
I don't know why I'm deciding to write about this now. I'd imagine it's a combination of a lot of things. Part the fact that I'm on an airplane headed towards Miami then another to Havana, performing my traveling ritual of listening to Letter to Lainie as the plane takes off. Part the fact that the LAST time I was on a plane was coming home from New Jersey on Thanksgiving Day, after spending the previous evening at RCE's farewell show at the Stone Pony. And lastly, part this little thing called Timehop which reminded me that it had been four years ago this very day that I had seen them perform live for the first time. But there were stories even before then.
My first memory of RCE was picking up the 2011 Warped Tour Compilation at Best Buy which was on sale for $5.99 near the end of my freshman year of high school. I can relive this very vividly because it was one of those moments in which the universe said, "HEY! Remember this moment. Shit's about to happen. This is going to be a very relevant moment in your life." Like one of those 'little did she know moments' in a book. Track eight of that little CD pack was Our New Intelligence, a lyrically and instrumentally genius song that was unlike anything I'd ever heard. I'm pretty sure to this day, that song is the most played song in my entire iTunes library. Soon after, I immersed myself in the rest of the Unmistakable Man album, with Nautical Sabbatical a close second, and I fell in love. Soon after, my family was on board as well. Even my 8-year-old brother would sing along to most of their songs. So we were all ecstatic when we found out they'd be playing a few shows at the SXSW music and film festival in Austin that spring. The week before my 16th birthday nonetheless. When the time came, my wonderful parents packed up our minivan with my brother, my best friend, and me, and took us to Austin.
Once we got into our hotel, we got to work trying to identify when we'd be able to see them perform without being restricted by the fact that there were two 15-year-olds and a child among us. As fate would have it, at that moment, the band tweeted that they were in need of a ride into downtown Austin. My dad, being the cool musician father he is, told me to respond with our phone number. So I did. And then we forgot about it. That is, until my mother got a text from one of the band members asking if we were still down to come get them. Squealing ensued. Shortly, we were on the road to go get them from their hotel. This is still one of those moments I have to remind myself was real. Joe, James, and Mike were as kind to us as they could possibly be. They even played us the beginning of their new record, which wasn't due to come out for another two months. Overall, it was a wonderful experience. But it did not end there. Not by a long shot. The next few days, we managed to meet Sam, Dan, Jen, Nick, and Patrick and see them perform multiple times. I thought I had loved them before, but nothing, NOTHING compares to a live set done by River City Extension. Especially in a tiny biker bar in Austin with Brick+Mortar and the Frontbottoms as the opening acts (that show holds a special place in my heart). And this week ended in Joe singing my family a beautiful song called "Today I Feel Like I'm Evolving" on a corner of 6th street. Overall, more than I could have ever asked for.
When Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Your Anger came out in June, Maggie and I bragged about how we were the first fans to have ever heard the album and we squealed with joy when a Dallas show was announced. Before entering the bar in Deep Ellum (I can't for the life of me remember which one it was), we said we wouldn't be offended if all of them had forgotten us. But this wasn't the case at all. Joe took one look at us and ran to greet us with hugs. Patrick did the same. The line-up of the band had changed slightly, but every member was still so excited to see us. And that felt amazing for two 16-year-old girls.
In the years following, Maggie and I never missed a Dallas RCE show. How could we? They were our livelihood. And each year and each album made our love grow even more. I remember at one point, they even arranged a service in which a few members of the band would come and play a personal show if you had a location within 15 miles of the venue. Luckily for us, Presbyterian roots grow deep and we had a friend within the perimeter (shout out to Miatta, we're still eternally grateful). We were accompanied to this little get together by a few of our other friends who had gotten into them. To be completely honest, we should have started a Dallas RCE fan club.
While the experiences I had with this group of wonderful people would stand alone as to why I love them, each member always showing such kindness to myself and my family, that doesn't even begin to stock it up to their music. God, I love their music. No matter the line-up and no matter the album, they've always managed to give me chills. If the sheer niceness of these people and the sheer persistence of myself to convince anyone and everyone to listen to them hasn't convinced you, just do it. Go now.
Their music got me through more things than I can count. From heartbreaks, to off days, to family deaths, to people leaving, to friendships ending, to anything. They were the thing that could keep me together. Anyone that knows me knows that music is a very important part of my existence, and theirs more so than anything else.
As one can see, I loved this band a lot. So that's why I was absolutely heartbroken when they broke up this past fall.
Don't get me wrong, I understand why it had to happen. And I respect the band's decision wholeheartedly. But that doesn't change the fact that it was ROUGH.
So of course, upon hearing there'd be a farewell show happening, I pulled out all of the stops. My parents received a formal email from me stating just why I HAD to be there ("You both raised me to believe that the world is made of stories instead of atoms. Are you really going to keep me from seeing this story through to the end?") and I believe I might have threatened to find my own way there if they had said no. So for an early Christmas present, I received two tickets to NJ. My dad wasn't going to miss it either, he said.
When my dad and I touched down in NJ, things were bittersweet. I had waited so long to see them again (and they had managed to get 7 of the 8 original members back on board, so some I hadn't seen since I was 15) that I panicked when I realized how much I needed to cherish every second I had left. After sharing this sentiment, my dad looked at me and said, "The last good thing hasn't happened yet." And per usual, he was right.
Before heading to the show at the Stone Pony, we stopped at an Italian restaurant, which coincidentally many members of the band were at as well. It took some members longer than others to remember me, but they all pretty well got there. And everyone was very shocked and impressed that we had come all the way from Texas.
Next up was the show itself. Brick+Mortar opened for them (let me take a second to brag about them too. Brick+Mortar is amazing. These two guys are as sweet and talented as can be and were recently wrongfully dropped by their record label. Go listen to them too). And during their set I ran into Sam Tacon, a previous member. Sam had always been one of my idols and I went to reintroduce myself. I got up to her and managed to say, "Hi Sam, you probably don't remember me, but-" and was interrupted with, "Of COURSE I remember you! How ARE you? How's your family? Did you come all the way from Texas?" and was kissed on both cheeks multiple times. I could have cried right there. A similar exchange happened with Jen right before RCE went on. Both of these exchanges meant the world to me. The two women I had idolized the most in my life remembered me after having not seen me for four years. But they're just that kind of people.
Before the set started, I managed to push my way up from the very back to the very front (I'm no amateur, I had the bruises to prove it) to where a friend Maggie had met through the Internet and a mutual love of the band was waiting. He and his sister welcomed me with open arms and were as sweet as could be.
Finally, the band walked on. It started with the most recent members who played the whole of their most recent album, Deliverance. I got to jump around and scream-sing and have all of the experiences I hadn't had for years. Then, Joe sang some of his other stuff and one-by-one invited the original members on stage. The first being Jen, who was crying. Now as I had mentioned before, I was feeling a bit melancholy before the plane even touched down, but seeing Jen in tears, made me tear up as well. Then they started playing Today, I Feel Like I'm Evolving. And I started to remember my first experiences so many years earlier. And how much had changed since then. And I started to cry. A lot. I then look down and saw a text from Patrick saying, "Hold it together, girl. The night's not over yet." Which prompted more tears. Patrick then sent over his marvelous girlfriend Natalie, who came to give me a hug. We then spent the rest of the night singing and enjoying together.
Post-show my dad and I went to say goodbye to the band and say thank you for all they had done. We then went on to meet Chris, another friend of Patrick's, and hung out with he, Patrick, and Natalie well into early Thanksgiving morning. Once we had been sufficiently worn out, Patrick drove us back to our hotel. Which has a nice symmetry and completeness to it. And that was the end of that part of the story.
I would just like to thank all of the people that I mentioned in this little post of mine, I'm blessed to have gotten to know each and every one of you. Thank you for helping make up some of the best moments of my life. And remember, the last good thing hasn't happened yet.