Years ago when I was pursuing my masters degree in Boston, I decided to check some inhibitions off of my list and join a band as a drummer in my free time. I had studied percussion since the 4th grade, been head of the drumline in high school marching band, and tapped along to the simple folk songs my roommate wrote in college in the living room of our apartment. But I'd never had the balls to get behind a kit on stage.
Once I shed that fear, it allowed me to live one of the craziest, most creative, and fun experiences I had ever been a part of up to that point in my life. It also introduced me to two of the craziest, most creative, and fun musicians I've ever met: Patrick Muecke (the guitarist and lead vocal) and Jordan Colón (bassist). Pat was a passionate, fiery, fidgety, slave driver and insisted that we practice three times a week, sometimes for three hours at a time. This made for many disagreements between he and I. After all, I was in grad school! I was working two part-time jobs! But somehow, I made it work because I always felt so special playing with them inside of our rehearsal space and out at gigs. There was alchemy together. You could feel things clicking in every bone.
Not only that, but playing was such a release after being stuck behind a computer all day typing. It was rewarding in that I could actually do it and...the crowd kind of became an addictive rush, to be honest. All those years that I spent so insecure about my abilities, I could have been reveling in cheering, hand-claps and, yes, cat calls for the chick drummer. It was effing great!
After a year and a half, however, once my studies were completed, I told the boys that I was moving back to NYC to pursue my career...and like many bands...we broke up. It wasn't a Guns n Roses type breakup. No blood shed or bar brawls. While there were some hard feelings, we remained friends. A year after that, in fact, both Pat and Jordan moved to NYC to pursue their own destinies.
Pat is now married with two beautiful children and works on major development jobs downtown. Meanwhile, Jordan was just written up in The New York Times for running a homey, farm-inspired cafe in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. I couldn't be happier for him! And it definitely got me reminiscing on the long nights of wine and charcuterie and cheese the three of us used to have, listening to Pat's ridiculously amazing collection of records with Jordan playing riffs in a corner of the room. What a time it was.
Here is an mp3 of one of our band, The Pick-ups, old songs:
If you are ever in Greenpoint, check out Eat cafe. Tell the owner I sent you.
