Post Rock Guitar

I showed up in new track shoes (after removing the spikes). I thought they were the coolest, and I felt super fast. Plus, I was attending a rock show in my neighborhood, so I could walk there and break them in.

When I showed up, an older, cooler kid took a jab at the shoes. I realized the room was full of Vans and Converse. I was embarrassed. 

One of my friends played a solo set wearing a cool Sufjan Stevens t-shirt. I think he’d just seen Sufjan tour on “Illinoise” a few days earlier.

I can’t remember the other bands that played EXCEPT one. Wembly Shadwell. I sat right in front of their lead guitarist, who played a Les Paul and did really amazing things with his Line 6 DL4 pedal. There were no vocals in their set, which was a continuous instrumental jam. Loud, beautiful, dramatic, chaotic. It changed me. Under the influence of absolutely nothing, I was SURE they were conducting magic before my eyes.

I connected with them on MySpace after the show. I invited them to play at my first show on my 16th birthday, which they did. And over the coming months, I would drive to their college campus with friends to attend their shows and buy their new releases. 

They weren’t a band for long, and from what I can tell, none of the members do much with music anymore either. But MAN, their art meant — and still means — a lot to me. And on another level, it’s inspiring to me as an artist to think of the impact they had on a kid from a couple towns over because of one show. If they meant so much to me, maybe I can impact someone at a show. Maybe my recordings can stick around in someone’s mind for more than a decade. 

It’s a noble cause. Sometimes, when I’m lucky, it’s greeted with lukewarm applause. And that’s fine. In fact, it’s better than “fine.”