Over the past several months I've sat and thought a lot about how drastically my life changed in the past year. I went through unbelievable amounts of heartbreak and loss (on many levels), only to turn a corner and find myself pointed 90 degrees in another direction.
I spent the summer of 2011 on the road to photograph 100 Monkeys. All the way from Ohio on the first date of their tour, through Florida and the south, the midwest and then the entire west coast, all the way through to their last show. Our friendships spanned across new bridges, and as we grew closer we finally decided that it was the right time to release a photobook together.
In the months that I spent photographing them last summer I met some of the most amazing people across the country. Some of the sweetest and most sincere people down in Florida and Alabama... (Roll Tide!) I met some people with deep pockets for drinking tabs in New Orleans (I have to stop going there...). I always meet great people in Texas, but I was sad to see it go, as it had been my home for the previous 6 months.
Then, midway through the tour, I ended back up in Kansas City for the first time in exactly a year. I hadn't seen my mother for the whole year and she came out to shoot the 100 Monkeys show with me that night. (I scored her a photo pass and I got to introduce her to the band. I was glad that I could make that happen for her.)
100 Monkeys was traveling with two of their own opening acts, Bleeding Horse Express and The Kissing Club, and each night I would wonder if the show would feature a local opener. On the nights when there was not a local opener I would leave the night with just some numbness from working the show (standing for hours upon end, hauling camera gear, rocking my face off, etc.). And on the nights when there was an additional band on the bill I would leave the venue barely walking (and not always just because of the whiskey).
I remember the very first thought I had when I looked on stage and saw an unfamiliar drumset in front of me.
"Fuck." I thought to myself.
A fourth band.
I had been on the road for a month and on my feet so much I'd worn holes in the soles of my shoes. I was standing at the front of the stage with my mother and she was testing her camera settings and her flash when she took this test shot of the opener's drumkit to check her exposure. It turned out cool, so I told her to keep it.
The next couple hours are a little hazy. I had taken a few pills to help the pain in my back and legs and... let's just say... I became one with rock 'n roll.
I've seen a lot of opening acts in my day. Some much better than others. I usually don't pay attention to them because they can't keep my attention while I'm sitting there waiting for the show to get on so that I can take my pictures... but within the first line of this band's song I turned to the people who I knew around me and I said, "Holy crap! They're actually good!"
I never did meet the opening band, or really remember much about their music other than the fact that I liked it, but I knew that I liked it so much that I took my phone out and liked their Facebook page while I was at the show. (And I'm stingy as fuck with my likes.)
Flash forward a year from that date and here I am living in that very same band's house.
It truly is amazing and humbling to see just how fast your life can change so drastically. I went through some life-altering, drastic changes on that tour... This summer I assumed I would be on the road again, following 100 Monkeys to their next destination, drinking whiskey with friends and talking Bic lighters.
Now, 100 Monkeys has split as a band, I'm the tour manager for Not A Planet and while I'm still drinking whiskey with my friends, my future of Bic lighters looks burned out.
I could go on talking about Not A Planet forever... but I'll save some more of that for later. ;)
P.S. Now that drumkit makes me super happy. :)
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