Even If It Kills Me is presented by Manhead Merch.
This podcast is about Wanderlust.
No,
wait,
that's not quite right.
This podcast is about a band.
My friend's band,
actually.
And throughout this podcast,
you're not going to hear what they sound like.
And you're not even going to know what their name is,
because that's not what this is about.
This is a story about a group of guys who attempted to grab the universe by the horns.
and ride it like a mechanical bull off into the sunset.
Oh,
and this is also for anyone who has ever dreamed of being a rock star.
Even if it was for only that one brief moment of time you were at that one party with that one person who said to you,
Hey,
let's get out of here.
Just go to California.
This is for all of those people who have that wanderlust deep in their souls.
We were just kids.
20th century kids.
Kids that grew up without the internet.
Without turn-by-turn voice-activated satellite-provided directions.
Without a country covered end-to-end in cell phone towers blanketing damn near every corner of the land with high-speed wireless internet access.
We were the last of our kind,
and we didn't even know it.
We were part of a micro-generation that was smushed right in between rotary phones and smartphones.
Our city was interesting.
We always felt this pocket to it,
this kind of small quiet magic that not a lot of people knew about.
John,
Mac,
Pete,
and I all went to the same middle and high school together.
Mac and Pete were a grade ahead of John and I.
And Ryan,
who lived across the street from Pete,
also happened to live in a different school district.
their road was the dividing line.
Now,
as for John and I,
we had a rather awkward journey through high school.
You know,
that's probably the easiest thing to say,
but I can't figure out how else to say it.
We were those guys,
those tall,
gangly,
bumping into every doorway we walked through guys.
Somehow,
among all that awkward chaos of high school,
we found music.
I took music so seriously I broke stereos with it.
I thought music was the end all be all slam dunk get fucked don't stop this don't change this.
If you're not getting this,
then you can get to fucking right off to this.
music was serious to me.
And my friends who also got that,
John,
Ryan,
Mac,
and Pete,
formed the band that is the foundation for this story.
The four of us,
we were friends,
we are about the same age,
we pretty much grew up together in the same area between two different schools,
but we all had this chemistry that just worked and we made really fucking cool songs,
or at least I think we did.
From the very beginning,
Ryan was all in.
We all somehow had this thing where we just could play together.
Like,
it just worked.
I miss it every single day.
I don't play it,
like,
probably right now and always,
but I think about it a lot.
Since it was the turn of the millennium and not even the dot-com bubble had burst,
We all went to college or attempted to at least.
I think I was in like my third year of just floating through that place,
not doing anything,
basically.
Very irresponsible time for me involving schooling.
There is me and a handful of people we would roll in to the parking lot five to ten minutes late.
I'll see each other,
yell out our windows at each other,
hey,
where are we going?
And we'd end up on somebody's couch watching,
you know,
The Price is Right or something.
Way,
way too often that happens.
Ryan's attempt at college lasted the longest,
followed by Pete and Mac.
John lasted a year and I was out of there in four months.
Of course,
dropping out didn't just mean more car parks and Price is Right.
It was time to take this banned shit seriously.
And how else but to go west,
young man,
go west.
To the City of Angels.
We just had to tell our parents.
It did not go well.
Here's B.
They thought I was completely out of my mind and did not want me to go.
We called them and told them after it was done that we had put our leave of absence thing in because we weren't coming back the next fall.
That's what it boiled down to.
We had decided that that's what we were doing.
Everyone's plans changed that September.
I mean,
everyone's.
I don't remember getting too much resistance until 9-11 happened.
Then all the parents were kind of,
you know,
hey,
you know,
they just did something really bad.
Maybe don't go.
That was sort of like the.
Well,
guess what?
there's no way in hell you guys are moving to Italy now.
Mac's parents were also pissed.
It was basically like,
you guys need to get back in school right now.
You're going to get drafted.
September happened.
I got cold feet.
I didn't go right near the tail end of the planning.
I was not prepared to do that kind of a move.
So I just,
I bowed out.
I was like,
I can't do this.
It was like one of the hardest decisions I ever made.
made.
It's like,
okay,
I really want this,
but I don't think I can,
I don't think I can handle it mentally.
And like,
you know,
it's,
it was kind of a recurring theme.
Pete was shook.
The idea of going to Los Angeles after what had happened.
I mean,
it just seemed like the wrong time.
I remember the night that Pete told me actually,
and I could just tell,
you know,
that,
you know,
he was kind of nervous,
kind of anxious.
And
I asked him,
I'm like,
you're probably not coming with us when we go,
are you?
And he said,
no.
At this point,
the tension was building.
It might've been silly of me,
but
I never thought that Pete would ever be completely permanently out of the band.
What we had set up was basically the first of many series of brutal interactions that would happen throughout the band where we made Pete record all of his drums.
all right,
we have these songs,
and obviously we know what they sound like,
but what,
are we just going to hum and click and try to tell somebody what to do?
No.
You know,
anything that hadn't been recorded,
we'd have something that we could go out there and give to somebody so they could learn how to be our new drummer,
which was crazy.
So during one of these sessions,
I'm starting to get overwhelmed by this whole thing now,
and I bring it up.
that I'm thinking about not going.
Guys,
I've been thinking about this too,
and I really think we gotta pull back here and reassess this.
And Ryan goes nuts.
Now here's the thing about Ryan.
This is a dude who never went nuts.
What the fuck,
man?
I just quit my job!
You know,
like,
one of those deals.
He basically quit his profession at that time.
So he went crazy.
I had told my boss that I had given him however many two weeks or whatever,
but
I'm sure I probably could have gone back and like,
hey,
I need to keep working because we're not going to go.
Ryan goes so nuts that it made me feel so horrible and made me feel like.
You know,
just pathetic,
basically,
that I wasn't willing to do this thing we'd been planning for forever at any one.
Meanwhile,
Pete's still in the room attempting to record his own drum parts.
Pete's there.
So this whole conversation is like,
are you going to be like fucking Pete?
Or are you going to be like us?
And it was this whole thing where it was just like,
all right,
I got to go.
And then Mac ended up deciding to go and best time of our lives.
So it was settled.
They were moving to LA,
warts and all,
and without Pete.
That road trip from the moving out there,
holy shit,
it was like life changing.
That was crazy and I didn't expect it.
This is John talking about that first drive out west.
I was driving this shitty van that my dad gave me,
encased in shit and music gear,
and the other guys were driving out in like a car.
And so I drove by myself across the country and we talked to each other on walkie talkies and I just blasted fucking music and I overheated like 400 times.
But we saw everything for the first time.
I moved to the intention of doing band stuff.
So I was like elated.
Ryan was mildly obsessed with California.
It was magical.
As cheesy as that sounds.
It just was amazing.
Here we are.
We're in California.
Fucking California.
The band spent the next two months attempting to find a drummer to replace Pete.
But...
came up empty over and over and over specifically because pete is so good it was like a terrible bar set for us while we were already handicapped moving to a place where we didn't really know anyone right and that was like pre-internet
so you had to go to like the music connection which was like a magazine out here
we're nobody.
We're a bunch of kids who moved out here with aspirations.
Why would a good drummer want to come play with it?
You know what I mean?
Like we would have to have these incredible songs.
You know,
we never had drummers that worked and it really,
really changed the band.
I mean,
like the sound of the band was,
was hurried and more punkish and
I wasn't the right sound ever really.
And then I threw up my hands and I was like,
fuck this.
John has an.
issue with always internalizing things until they get to a point where he can't handle them and he snaps.
But for very rudimentary things that shouldn't be a problem.
After spending all night drinking alone and mulling over the future of the band and without telling Mac or Ryan,
John took it upon himself to call Pete.
while Pete was at home eating breakfast.
So I was eating breakfast at like around 7 o'clock,
and the phone rang.
So I got up.
I just picked it up.
I said,
hello.
The voice on the other end of the line goes,
Mr.
and I said,
hold on,
I'll get him,
thinking they were looking for my dad.
And then he goes,
no,
Pete.
I'm like,
what?
I think I was like,
what time is it there?
Because if it was 6.30 in the morning here,
it was like 3.30 in the morning in LA.
I think he just basically was like,
hey,
what are you doing?
And I said,
I'm eating breakfast.
I'm getting ready to go to work.
And he's like,
no,
what are you doing?
and I said,
I don't know.
Fuck all the weird feelings about this before.
You need to move out here.
We need you to come and play drums with us,
because it's just not working without you.
And I said,
okay,
well,
you know,
let me think about it.
I mean,
you could have come to any one of us at any point in time and been like,
hey,
guys,
this isn't working out,
and we probably all would have been like,
yeah,
I agree.
And then I hung up the phone.
I decided,
you know what?
Like,
it's now or never.
Yep,
I'm going.
I mean,
in the end,
was it the right move?
Probably.
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Once Pete got to LA,
the momentum took off.
Things just started to roll.
They were on a path,
and at that point,
nothing was stopping them.
John managed to score an internship at a record label that...
just so happened to be one of our favorite labels,
home to many a band that we all enjoyed.
One day I was in what would have been like a crawlspace attic area,
and I saw all of this merch and all of these weird,
like,
like one of a kind items,
whether they're like glossies or like things from videos and shit.
And everything was addressed to a guy named Richie.
And I was like,
okay,
this must be the dude,
right?
For some reason,
I was like.
such a,
I guess,
born salesperson or con man that I knew to hunt down the person who was in control of this thing that I loved.
So I was like,
okay,
that's the guy I need to figure out here.
So my first order of business was finding this rich,
infiltrating and becoming a part of his life,
which sounds psychopathic to say.
out loud.
But that was kind of the way I was thinking.
And he very much kind of invited me into the fold.
And I very quickly felt like I was a part of the family.
I fit in there and they offered me a job.
And it was kind of like,
we'll figure out the position is.
And it was this amorphous thing that was total bullshit.
And they just wanted to have me there and,
you know,
working on the stuff with them.
John didn't want to admit that landing an internship at the indie record label of everyone's dreams could very much so influence and speed up the process of getting signed.
I was friends with the guy who was in charge of the warehouse.
His name was Bobby.
there was some sort of marketing meeting we had or a label meeting where someone mentioned that like,
we got to find some like new shit.
I pulled some fucking Inception shit and put the idea in Bobby's head to somehow get our songs to
Rich. For me,
it was a random swing.
I wasn't like,
this is a dunk.
I was like,
you know what,
if I was ever to play my music for this man that I respected so much,
I would rather it wasn't coming from me.
But despite all that,
and even though John totally didn't want to get signed records.
it happened.
I never felt bad about,
about inceptioning Bobby.
I only felt like I didn't earn it.
Uh,
once I finally got it,
we did it.
We're rich.
We're going to be the,
we're going to be the biggest band in the world.
That was it.
Right.
I mean,
we basically did put in our,
you know,
two weeks notice at that point because we knew,
uh,
we were going to move home.
It was their plan all along to move back home at this point.
Paying rent in LA while on tour just didn't make any sense.
Coming home was like,
we made it one step.
That was a point where we were starting on the next step.
I think a lot of people think that once you signed a record label,
that's it,
you did it.
like you're a famous band now.
And for all I knew that that was it too.
I thought,
this is it.
We did it.
It was almost like a triumphant kind of a feeling.
I mean,
at that point,
we felt like we had somewhat conquered the beast.
We were just some schmucks from a small town in New York.
And then when we got back and we played a show,
it was just like,
holy shit.
Like we felt like we had made it and we hadn't done a thing.
And that was it.
The guys were back from LA.
Mother fucking Los Angeles.
I mean,
no one from our hometown had ever formed a band,
moved to LA,
and got a record deal.
And these guys are part of my circle of friends,
and they want me to go out and tour with them to sell merch and film and pretend like I knew what the hell a tour manager did?
Yeah,
you bet your ass this was cause for celebration.
First order of business?
Throw a most triumphant welcome home concert.
which of course would be followed by an equally amazing house party.
And that party,
that was the kickoff,
the sendoff,
the holy shit.
We were about to go on tour like bands who are famous,
dude.
Okay,
wait a minute.
Hold on.
Let's just pause here.
Hold on.
Take a breath.
This is all just rambling.
It's a band and they did their thing.
They went out to that place and did it happen?
No,
no.
Spoiler alert.
Maybe.
It's time we focus on me,
your humble narrator.
My name is Aaron.
And if I wasn't driving the van,
I was filming.
And if I wasn't selling merch,
I was filming.
And with the aid of those videotapes that I managed to fill,
our story will begin to unfold.
So we might as well start at the beginning.
This is from tape one.
I'm already flexing my tour manager muscles at this point,
walking into the venue.
I remember I had this new feeling of responsibility for my friends and their band.
How we doing?
Going on.
Good.
You know,
when I asked John that night how things were going,
I fucking meant it.
Aaron is going to strategize his strategy.
I can't even see his face.
Where are you?
God damn.
Based off of that first night,
we assumed this was how it was always going to be.
I mean,
a gut-busting wall-to-wall party.
Hanging out backstage,
none of us could stop laughing,
smiling,
or acting over the fucking moon about every little thing.
Jenga,
playing Jenga was like,
oh!
J-Ga!
I punched it!
We were about to kiss our hometown goodbye,
but before we did,
we got one more opportunity to flex our new,
fresh fame and everybody's stupid faces and party our asses off with our friends.
After the show wrapped,
we eventually piled into John's barely-working Jeep and headed over to Luke's,
which was where the party was waiting.
Oh,
shit.
I love the fact that your car works right now.
That's amazing.
Yeah.
How did that happen?
We found out what was wrong with it.
What was wrong with it?
There's a little sensor in the shifter.
I can start it all the time in neutral if I want to.
Awesome.
Oh,
gosh.
Man.
I remember pulling up to Luke's.
There were people everywhere.
All of the standard party bullet points were there.
Beer pong in the basement.
Chaos in the kitchen.
A semi-quiet space out back where the weed and the cig smokers would hang out.
Room to room,
the house was packed.
The oldest person there was 25 and the youngest still had to go to high school in the morning.
Aaron,
you're killing me.
That girl has to go to fucking high school tomorrow.
Or this morning,
let me say.
Oh shit,
I ate skin fresh.
I think the guys had just found out that the start of tour is changing.
Start tour?
Well,
it's supposed to be
Wednesday in New Jersey,
but now,
uh,
now it looks like we're,
uh...
Driving to Portland.
I said Portland,
Oregon.
So,
nope.
Imagine finding out the day or two before you're going on a trip that you're not going to the East Coast but the West Coast.
No big deal.
In your fucking early 20s,
no big deal.
At this point,
it was the end of May,
2004.
The five of us were standing on the edge of a summer that would quite literally change the direction of all of our lives.
The more I try and focus on these moments before tour,
I realize that
I was just along for the ride.
Pete joked earlier about reoccurring themes.
this is without a doubt one of them.
Another that will keep popping up is this idea of brute force and the assumption that sheer will would allow us to do anything we wanted.
Example,
the band was going to be loved anywhere they went because the band was loved at home.
We knew,
we knew we were all about to become famous.
my dreams of becoming a filmmaker would just materialize right in front of me while helping my good friends with their new lives as famous rock stars.
Fast forward four years to the bowels of Florida,
and we were so much farther away than when we started.
Even If It Kills Me is a Fang Workshop production.
Written and narrated by me,
Aaron Goy.
Produced by John Lulo and Brendan Walter.
Featuring original music by Alex Dozen,
and original theme song by Matt McKitt.
Thank you.