Four hardcore kids formed a band when they were in their late twenties. This was after they had all sworn they’d given up music at least twice.
They were all dudes who hated their factory jobs. They all lived in cheap apartments or with their parents. Gas was almost $4 a gallon.
One day at band practice the bas player sarcastically suggested they play a song by three days grace. They all laughed. Then they played it (faked it) all the way through as a joke. But when the song was over they all had the same idea at the same time. No one said anything and they all felt dirty. So they packed their gear without a word and went home.
At the next practice they finished a set of their own original songs they‘d worked so hard on. No one aside from the band really liked any of their songs.. But they played them as loud and tight as they could. They were happy and high.
Until they decided to play a hinder song as a joke at the end of practice. It was like the week before all over again. They hung their heads. They silently packed up and went home.
As a bitter cold winter lingered on and on for most of the year; the pasty hardcore kids decided that easy money might make them happy. So in an act aimed to prevent their collective suicides they decided to be a bar band.
After lots of work that wasn’t anywhere near as hard as factory work, they had a 3 hour set they could play through at practice. It took six weeks to learn. They all quit their jobs.
For the rest of their late twenties they made enough money to scrape by. All they had to do was play five finger death punch songs to rednecks in bars that looked like basements.
The four hardcore kids weren’t as miserable ever again. The free drink tokens at the bars they played didn’t hurt.
And sometimes at practice they still played their own shit for fun. And sometimes they thought about how stupid they were playing music they loved, rather than music they hated for money.
