Bye E-Dog

I left my band last week. Cigs Inside. I remember when we came up with that name, my friends and I boolin around, playing music, singing, dancing. Johnny boy started chanting it, and I was super confused. Turns out it’s a frat boy chant. Drunken freedom, obnoxious energy, a wild ride of doing what you want. It was perfect, people would chant it at gigs and we’d flow from their tempo into a song. Those gigs are some of the best memories of my life. The crowds, the haze, the energy. One time I ate a calzone during a vocal solo. Another time I pushed through a sea of strangers to take a piss mid set. We’d lug out my old Gretsch kit and speakers all over town, bars, parties, a gig was a gig.

“A gig is a gig is a gig” - the one dude from Scott Pilgrim.

Theo, Greg, Durrell, John, Dev, and Maddy became more than my best friends; they became family. They always took care of me when I got a bit too rowdy. And I love them all. They’re the realest, coolest, wildest kids I’ve ever met. And honestly, I feel horrible for leaving, but I had to. Cigs Inside is an icon of craziness and power, but it can be a lot for me. I’m a softspoken shy kid at heart, and people scare me. Crowds give me anxiety because I’m nervous of letting people down, even just by saying “hi.” So playing gigs, while it’s a fucking thrill, takes its toll on me. It takes its toll on all of us. After we perform, we’re all severely drained, often to a really heavy depressing vibe. Personally I ball up like a cat, just wanting to run away. A train a greyhound a plane a sailboat. Like I said, people are scary. Music can be scary too.

On the way to our last gig, we got in a car crash. T-boned. Both cars wrecked, ambulances and firetrucks and blue red blinking lights everywhere. I bashed my head against the backseat window, and if that glass broke, I wouldn’t be here anymore. And when I crawled out of that wreck, I realized I wasn’t where I wanted to be. I wasn’t making my music, I wasn’t dancing and laughing as much, I wasn’t playing music for me anymore; I was playing for Cigs Inside. A role, Bradley Cooper, masks. We still played the gig, my head was throbbing throughout the entire performance like a beehive. But we got through it, I just played without fully feeling it.

When it was over, I regretted it. I should’ve left or gotten our opener to play the entire gig, but I didn’t want to let the others down. And I don’t want to feel that again. I love the band with all I can give, always will, but right now I need to be a little selfish and give some time for me. I need to find my love for music again, for playing, for drumming and dancing and laughing, because I’ve lost it. When you almost die, things become vivid. And I don’t want to die, not without making more things. New sounds, new thoughts, new music. My music.

I’m listening to the performance from that gig right now, and god it’s incredible. We slayed it. Fucking slayed it. I don’t know how we pulled it off, some of these songs are the best they’ve ever been, especially our new stuff. I wish I could help record these tracks because they’re incredible; they deserve love and attention. And maybe in the future we can all make more music. But for now, I’m not the drummer for Cigs Inside anymore. If you’d like to take my spot, dm them @cigsinsidetheband. And show them love, because they deserve it.

Here’s a live performance of MIB that we never shared. It’s amazing.

Long live Epilepsy Dog <3