Letting Go.

I used to be in a band called 'knifeyard.'

I say "used to be" because, well... now I'm not.

I came to Australia to form this band, and I'm really glad I did, because it opened my eyes up to how incredibly naive I still was, even at the age of 31.

I'm not going to go into all of the stupid and childish things I used to think, because I embarass myself enough every day as it is. But i can tell you there is nothing like trying to get something started that requires teamwork and cooperation, but pays nothing, and actually costs an intense amount of money, to show you just who you really are.

As some of you know, I had worked in the music industry for years before, as a tech, or a road dog...living on tour, getting other bands up every night. So I thought I knew a thing or two.

I didn't.

We had some fans (mainly in the States), and that was nice. It was nice to get emails, and to hear from our Distribution Company in Seattle (do you like how I used capitals for that?) that we've sold more CD's, and can they have some more please?

It was nice to appear on compilations and DVD's and all sorts of other things.

It was nice to be at the top of certain internet music charts, and to Google your band and to see people talking about you in Malaysia.

It was nice to see some of the same faces at shows, and to see yourself in the streetpress and to hear yourself on the radio.

It was positively kickass to find out we were getting played on College radio on the other side of the planet too.

I dug seeing my posters and stickers around Melbourne.

As nice as those things were though, it wasn't nice to have to babysit people who swore they were professional, and knew how hard being in a band and touring can be, when they had less than no idea.

It wasn't nice when people would let you down constantly.

But this post isn't about that. I'm not here to bitch.

This post is to say "goodbye" to a thing I used to love, and be, and had big dreams for.

This post is about waking up, and realising those things are not going to happen.

And this post is about not letting any of this get me down, and to just look forward to the next musical journey I'm cooking up, even if it never gets off the ground. Because there's no way i can stop loving band life and writing/recording/performing big dumb rock songs.

To be honest, knifeyard has been dead for more than a year, but i couldn't accept that.

I thought sooner or later, a new drummer and guitarist would come along, and me and the bass player would get them up to speed and pick up where we left off. But that is clearly never going to happen. Not in Melbourne, not with our sound.

I really like the name 'knifeyard', I don't know why. Lots of people have told me it's really stupid, but i liked it anyway, and I liked it that I liked it, even in the face of others not liking it.

I've still been accepting new friend requests on Myspace every week, and promoting us here and there.

I still don't know if we were any good.

If you want, you can listen to us here, and make up your own mind, before I delete the page in a couple of days.

I feel so incredibly sad right now, not sure why.

Truth hurts, I guess.

When you see so many of the bands you used to play with, and who even supported you, rising up through the ranks and become the next hot item.

Hurts when you don't, and when it feels like you're not only overlooked, but that perhaps you just really weren't any good in the first place.

Hurts to admit that at 34, 'the kids' don't give a crap about what you play, because you're old, and you're not playing garage revival rock, or post hardcore/emo.

So goodbye my little band. I've had some incredible moments, and a whole lot of heartbreak.

But I wouldn't change it for the world.

I still have a few of our old Ep's left, if anyone wants one, hit me up and I'll sell you one for a dollar, plus postage. Fire Sale'n'that.


This is knifey, from 'the internet'.