Eric's Outstanding...

I feel like it was just last year that I awkwardly walked into a Northern Virginia venue to see some local bands play. It honestly blows my mind that it has already been six years of me being a part of the live music scene, witnessing the evolution of bands, seeing everything grow, and in contrast, my jeans progressively getting tighter and tighter. I remember playing my first shows with a former band that I was in prior to TDF (which I dare not say its name!) and feeling very out of place and intimidated. We were your average amateur band; pictures on a couch or in front of a tree, parents carpooling us to shows, and of course, horrendous songs recorded on a computer microphone. I remember one of our first shows, we had to sell fifty tickets for an old venue called the Sterling Safety Center and we were opening for a bunch of hardcore and metal bands. I walked into the venue (accompanied by my pops), got my nifty wrist-band (which I was always stoked to show off at school the following week), and hearing the sounds of shrieking vocals and obnoxious guitars. I opened the doors and saw at least a hundred kids flailing their arms like psychopaths to the aggressive screams of the band in front of them. Imagine a dark room with just a few floodlights and a diverse group of kids going completely nuts to music. It was its own culture. It was incredible. Even being nearly pre-pubescent, I knew that I was getting involved in something special.

A show in particular that stands out was with a band called In Alcatraz 1962 (the band playing in the picture above) and Once Nothing. This was long after my old bands demise and a few months into TDF’s career. It was Once Nothings last show and the energy in the room was out of this world. I remember looking at the crowd, many of whom are friends I’ve have made over the years, others having familiar faces, and others who were complete strangers. I knew though, that we were a community, bound together by love and passion for the bands and each other. After delivering the most passionate performance I’ve ever witnessed, the members of Once Nothing, all of whom were crying, thanked us for our dedication and loyalty to them over the years. This left all of us getting choked up.  All of us were paying tribute and showing our respect to a band that has given us their blood, sweat, and tears over the past ten years. It was a moment I’ll never forget. And I’m forever thankful for it.

Speaking of giving thanks, there is nothing I’m more thankful for than the memories and opportunities that the local music scene has given to me. Memories from my first encounter with those dancing monkeys, to Once Nothings emotional last show, to being crammed in a shed with forty other people. They humble me and remind me of my roots. They remind me of why I play music. They remind me of why I still go to shows, even those that are held in a shed of someone’s muddy backyard. Among all of the body odor and sweat, in that tiny little shed, I witnessed more passion than one could ever experience in a lifetime. Look long and hard at the picture above. I have. And I’m forever thankful for moments like that.

One word: Passion.