No Rewind

We roll out of Des Moines in the late afternoon—our summer begins. Jake and Josh bring youthful energy; Wade and I meet them with the same enthusiasm we’ve always had for this. Age doesn’t matter—the language is musical. We don’t need no rewind.

We drive 3,705 miles over seventeen days through Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Tennessee, Kentucky, New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. We visit the Gettysburg Battlefield, Niagara Falls, and the spot in New Brunswick, New Jersey, where Alexander Hamilton and his Battery of horse artillery delayed the British advance across the Raritan River, allowing George Washington and the Continental Army to withdraw to Trenton. Josh sees mountains and the ocean for the first time in his life.

We listen to an endless playlist, the soundtrack of our summer: Rush, Toto, The Smiths, Turnstile, Bob Mould, Kiss, NOFX, The Cure, Title Fight, Christopher Cross, Counting Crows, Bruce Springsteen, Janes Addiction, Descendents, Slowdive, Boston, and so much more.

We start each day on the hunt for coffee (a detail assigned to Jake)—ideally, a local spot with pastries. If they also serve breakfast, that’s a bonus. Hopscotch in Winchester, Virginia, Rebel Dog in Hartford, Connecticut, and Utica Coffee Roasting Company in Utica, New York, stand out.

We become friendly with The Aquabats and their crew on day one. Bat Commander and I met in 1988, working on the film Gleaming The Cube, while Josh grew up watching their TV show and listening to their music. We are greeted with the positivity and welcoming energy that is a trademark of their music. The Aquabats are the kind of band that we want to play with, that we want to be around.

We enjoy the hang with The Koffin Kats, a great band and a solid group to do the miles with. We share their drum kit every night (thanks, Eric), and it’s always all hands on deck when it comes to load-in, load-out, and changeover. Everyone wants the night to be a success, so it’s teamwork from the first show on.

We have a few of our own shows along the way, including one at the Brightbox Theater in Winchester, Virginia, and another at The Handlebar in Pensacola, Florida. We play with awesome bands: Anxiety Monster, Destructo Disk, Kinder.Gentler, and Nik Flagstar. These nights are special for us, as we get to hang out with the locals and participate in mini-reunions with friends we've just met. We feel blessed and grateful each night.

We stay with Josh’s uncle, Steve, and his aunt, Cara, at their hotel in Atlanta, Georgia. They fly in for the show, put us up for two nights, and everybody gets a bed. In the morning, they take us out for breakfast. We play the Atlanta show well-rested and well-fed.

We play the House Of Blues in Orlando, Florida. Halfway through the set, Josh breaks a guitar string and plays the rest of the show with only five strings, soloing around the missing string. No one can even tell.

We hang out at the merch table after our set each night. We meet lots of friendly people who support our music with kind words and their wallets. It means a lot to us to have the support of an audience we are just meeting and who we hope to get to know better in the coming years.

We are awoken one morning by Josh’s alarm blaring Ozzy Osbourne’s Shot In The Dark. Somehow, Josh doesn’t wake up, yet no one yells at him to turn it off because even though we are dead tired and in need of more sleep, the riff is so crucial none of us want it to end.

We get tighter and better as a band each night. We go from playing the songs to experiencing them. That’s when it gets magical; that’s when it becomes fulfilling.

We go on first each night and are thankful to those who get there early and check us out. From Ashville, North Carolina, to Boston, Massachusetts, we make the most of every opportunity to play our songs. I wrote most of these lyrics in 2001 and 2002, but the songs feel even more meaningful now. Not one of them feels stuck in my throat or empty on my tongue. I don’t feel like I am revisiting something old and abstract—the music is right here and right now.

We have a thousand-plus mile push home. I turn fifty-five somewhere on the interstate. You’re never too old to be who you are. Josh buys me a birthday lunch, and later, we celebrate with custard from Culver’s in Elkhart, Indiana. We drive through the night. I drop the guys off at their homes. We shake hands and hug each other—see you next week for band practice. I climb into bed with Annie and the dogs sometime after 4:00 AM.

Our tour continues, view all upcoming tour dates here!

Thanks for watching and reading!