three long years

it's been a roller coaster of emotions the last three years. three years ago today, we put out our first EP, played our first show in nate's basement (thank you study room!), did our first south ontario run. we've made memories that i would never, ever take for granted, and fought through three eviction notices and some of the harshest winters and worst times of our lives together.

look at how young we were. crazy (photo by mg ommert)

i've never been in a band that people genuinely gave a shit about. more often than not, i've always been an outsider, never a participant. i've been going to shows since i was a kid, at masonic lodge, the green house, lee's, wherever there was a basement and a couple punks. but i never felt like i could make music that people would care about, and i'm so happy to be proven wrong, again and again.

us on route to kitchener. we were so late

i don't think any of us expected to still be doing this three years later. sure, we would've all still played in bands, saw each other at shows, mossed around afterwards, go to the same parties and lived in the same city. but i think as soon as we put out it's more like embracing, a scrappy demo EP that we recorded in the basement of houndstooth, we all realized there was something special.

the chemistry between faith, kai and i was so instantaneous. serendipitously meeting at a north york house party, kai and i just started talking about the good ol' days of the 905. faith and i knew each other from fortnite and locking ourselves in our rooms when COVID first hit. we had a handful of songs that we knew would make a pretty cool demo that we, i think, expected to be immediately forgotten. 

as an artist, you can never, ever, take for granted that you have any audience whatsoever. in the fucking blender of ai slop and social media algorithms ramming your brain at full force with a new midwest emo pop punk song of the summer, we had to fight back against any urge to take a part of that circus to try to steal people's attention for one iota of a second. but people started paying attention to the scrappy band that tried to play as many shows as possible in a year, travelling off of my severance pay and more often than not showing up egregiously late, kai holding a stack of flyers and all of us apologetic about the way that we are as people.

the scene started swelling at the same time we were picking up steam. people were itching for the next few new friends shows, lots more screamo bands were starting in the city. turnout to bar orwell started to hit capacity on the regular. toronto's not the centre of the universe, but it sure feels like it when you're in the middle of a crowd, your friends all around you pulling the mic and yelling all the same words. i wouldn't give up the 416 for the world.

 

when the punks are in the late twenties / early thirties (photo by matty gagui)

so here we are, three years later, older, down two cars that we broke and several thousand dollars, living the dream. we put out a couple more things, our good buddy jazz joined and we're still hanging on by a thread. and i wouldn't have it any other way.

as always. 

death to capitalism

death to imperialism

death to all who oppose us

love,

toast