When I was fifteen I got into the Mighty Mighty Bosstones. They were my first taste of a band from Boston that wasn’t Aerosmith, Boston or The Cars. It was great. They were the Boston band that made good. Even when they were featured in the movie Clueless I still thought of them as ‘local.’ I mean Boston was in their name, right?
After college I lived in LA and Dicky Barrett did the morning show on the now defunct Indie 103. It was like a little taste of home every morning. It always made my day.
So yeah, we’re a band from Boston. Most of us have been playing music in this city for around 10 years. I’ve been to more local shows than I can count. Hell, I’ve played more local shows than I can count. We’ve all done drives down to New York for a Wednesday night show, followed by the drive back so you can work Thursday morning. Collectively, we know almost everyone involved with the local music scene in one way or another.
Over the years there have been some great acts from this city. There is also an awesome community of people that really love and support music. As a musician that is inspirational. We’ve lost a lot of musical institutions over the past few years, but the love endures.
Change is scary. You don’t know where things will end up. TT the Bear’s Place and Johnny D’s are gone. They were as Boston as the Bosstones. As a testament to that, the Bosstone’s helped see TT’s off. New places will fill the void, like Once, Out of the Blue Gallery, Firebrand Saints or some new club that hasn’t opened yet.
Rock music is supposed to be the anti-establishment thing. As the music landscape changes in Boston and elsewhere, it’s even more so. You don’t get into music for money. You get into music, because you love it so damn much. You get into music, because writing songs fills a hole that nothing else can fill.
I remember hearing the song Debaser for the first time when I was in college. It was 6:00 in the morning, and I was on my way to work listening to the now defunct WFNX. The Pixies became my favorite band at that moment. When the song finished I was off kilter, like the world had moved. I knew I needed to hear it again. Last year I watched the Pixies play Boston Calling as well as one of the final shows at TT’s.
There’s one less club in Mark Sandman Square and one less in Davis. Some of my favorite spots on the radio dial have disappeared, but I’ve still got to a hole to fill. For me, music is a love that endures.