Hit With A Memory

If You Insist On Pictures of Shorelines...

I used to be such an emo kid. Still am I guess. I was always leaving poetic and mildly disturbing away messages and tweets of random lyrics and songs (sorry not sorry, at least I don’t do that too much anymore). My buddy Josh sent me this photo from Sonshine Fest in Willmar, MN from ca. 2000-2001 (I can’t place it oddly). It really brought me back. Not only remembering a time when I had hair, but just everything hit all at once. That’s the best way I can describe it. I remember things I was wearing, khaki Dickies, an unnecessarily tight (size SMALL) Further Seems Forever tee. Low-top black Chucks. Guitar strap all the way low, because that’s what you did then! I used to wear those cheap Hanes 3 pack white tees underneath my shirts. Perhaps because of my (probably) sensory processing disorder, but it made them even tighter, and more ill-fitting. And hot! Looking back, I think I always had a problem sensory wise with scratchy, cheap t-shirts haha! I always wore band tees back then, like every day, not just on stage. I (in)famously wore a Saves the Day shirt on our second album cover, plus a Dashboard Confessional shirt on the insert pic. No one seemed to think twice about how odd it is to wear other band’s merch for your own band’s album cover. I suppose kinda quirky in hindsight. I also think that maybe it had some positive effect. I feel that in a way, it sent a signal, very directly, that maybe Relient K was not exactly like most other Christian market bands. Maybe we had a slightly different approach to things, to music, culture, social awareness? I like to think that we did. And really it only made sense to people who were aware of indie bands, but by the time our album came out, both of the bands on the shirts I was wearing kinda blew up. Well at least Hot Topic big at the time, which I thought was funny, but definitely wouldn’t have done that had I known.

From where I sit now, I can really see the value in being yourself, truly. It really gives people something to grab on to, something to relate to, and it has value, beyond a business sense. Looking back at this photo, I think of all the things I was doing to send a signal out to the world. I bought a Mesa Boogie Dual Rectifier because all my favorite punk bands had one. I wanted people to know that our band could be a little tough / aggressive. I wanted people to be able to look at our stage and know that we were not the kind of band to use small combo amps and large pedalboards (fast forward, haha). I didn’t keep the Mesa very long, I actually sold it to Matt T about a year later, he still has it! I sold it because I happened upon “my” amp, a 1971 Marshall Superlead, that is still my number one. It is “the one” for me. It’s the one amp I would never sell. I could write an entire chapter on that amp, and maybe I will someday, but for now, I just want to say that it is special. I still test pedals on it. I still bring it on the road. But for now, for this picture, for this specific era, the Mesa Boogie was IT. It was the sound of pop-punk and hardcore for a minute, but quickly got diluted into Nü Metal / PRS or whatever kinda mainstream rock radio was happening at that time.

Further Seems Forever was my favorite band. It’s funny being friends with Chris now, but I remember buying this shirt directly from him at their merch table at Cornerstone Fest. I loved them since before their first official (and my favorite) record The Moon Is Down. I prefer the original version of “The Bradley” from the Recess Theory split EP, it’s slower, more chaotic, more hardcore than punk, even though the guitars have less gain. It feels more sad to me, the chorus hits more naturally to me, timing wise. I wish I could find the earlier version of “Pictures of Shorelines” that our manager got on a Tooth and Nail pre-release because I remember it being really great.

You can listen to the entire split EP here. Wow this brings me back. Driving to school in my old (Reliant K) car listening to CDs on a portable player sending poorly through an FM transmitter. This was such an entirely terrible setup for listening to music. It was constantly going out, and sounded horrible when it did work. I can’t believe I didn’t just buy a new stereo with a CD player. I invested so much time and money into buying CDs, vinyl, going to shows. I had a really nice stereo at home. Funny to think that I never thought it possible to put a $100 head unit in my car. This is a sort of unspoken ethos of our band, trying to be content to get by on what we have, making the best of things. Only owning one electric guitar even! Maybe it’s a sort of NE Ohio blue-collar grit that we all shared. That said, the Mesa Boogie was a splurge, but actually more of a huge investment for me at the time that I worked hard and saved for. Ultimately it ended up being a stepping stone for me, but is still hanging out in Matt’s basement to this day.

Actually I think I prefer all three versions of these songs than the album versions, but maybe that’s just just the most emo cred thing that I could possibly say. Definitely that. I used to be so concerned with that, not that I would admit it out loud to anyone. It’s funny that I was worried about people perceiving me as a goofy pop-punk guy, even though that was the kind of band I was in. I mean, we had moments, but our band never really felt like we had legit emo-red. Oh, and zero disrespect to Recess Theory, I have always thought they were super cool, but I don’t know that I’ve ever finished listening to one of their songs. I just didn’t connect with it for some reason. But I probably listened to these three FSF songs thousands of times easily.

Looking at this picture of me, I also remember how I used to do this thing where I would place the mic stand noticeably too high for myself, so that I had to look up to sing. I don't have a great explanation of why I did this, other than I thought it was cool? (like my baggy khakis???), but looking back, I wonder if I was trying to create a scenario where I was looking up and over the crowd? It’s funny that I’ve spent so much of my life on stage and I never feel comfortable being the center of attention. I don’t know if I would ever want to be a lead singer. I have oddly never really struggled with anxiety about playing shows, even early on. I think I just told myself that most people were probably just looking at Matt and didn’t notice me. And I love playing guitar. I feel like I can just disappear sometimes when I’m playing. This happens all the time, around the house (as my family can attest), or when I’m testing pedals. It’s a good kind of lost, it feels like being fully present, but disconnected from worry, or even overthinking what I’m doing in that moment. I haven’t thought of this before, but playing guitar is a little like running for me. It makes sense that people love playing guitar, I know I do! And it makes sense that people get emotional about gear, I also know that I do this too, haha. I remember liking bands that had a different approach on stage - like Cool Hand Luke standing backwards, or Dave Bazan just standing there with a certain unshakable calm while he plays these intensely emotional and heavy songs. In the early days, Matt used to get on my case all the time for just standing there. I was not about to jump around like I was in a pop-punk band (haha). I would get annoyed when he would bring it up, but it forced me to find more of myself. I am not one who has what they call “stage moves”, but I do a few funny things, like back up really quickly and then run up to the mic. I do a very slow spin (that I think is funny, but I don’t think anyone gets the joke). And then my cables get all tangled. Back in the day (and pictured here), I used a wireless for a bit, but then switched back to a cable because “tone”. And I suppose I have to mention the "Classic Hoopes Stance” as described on my Wikipedia page. Funny I was not aware of this until I read about it here…

Pictured here is also my famously stolen American Telecaster. There is nothing intrinsically special about it, but it was mine, and I felt connected to it. It’s funny but makes sense that I still feel a loss of this guitar, when have sold or gotten rid of many guitars over the years. This is the one that hurts, because I know it can’t really be replaced. I feel thankful for my Tele Deluxe now, that I feel similarly about it, and definitely love it more than any guitar. I feel grateful that I feel intuitively connected on a deeper level. Hope I never lose it! It’s crazy to think of the amount of guitars there are in the world, and how one can be special. I love my Stratocaster, and I’ll likely never sell it. It feels great, sounds great, plays great, and I feel a connection to it, but it in some ways feels replaceable in a way that my Tele does not. I sometimes think of that line from Full Metal Jacket where he is talking about his gun, and how much it means to him. I don’t remember much about the movie (probably for the best, and I will likely never own a gun), but I can relate to that feeling.

Here are some pictures of me wearing other bands’ shirts in our packaging of The Anatomy of the Tongue In Cheek -