A Forest
Nothing dramatic, but I don't think I've told many people about the following, including various parties involved, which is awkward, but hey.
Summer 1992. Freshly transplanted to the Bay Area, I needed to find other musicians. The first ad I answered was for a post-rocky band looking for a bass player. Erik The guitarist picked me up and we met Andee the drummer outside of their rehearsal space late at night in the shittiest part of the Mission. The actual room was in the dusty basement of a soon-to-be-condemned building. There were no working lights on the main floor, so we lit a piece of paper on fire to see where we were going as we loaded my gear down a long hall full of abandoned junk and onto a freight elevator. Sketchy!
It was a fun, mopey indie-post-rock jam, but I think there may have been some personality conflict keeping us from really getting into it. So we passively went through the motions. Fair enough. The remainder of the night was cordial and I got dropped off safely at home. In the car Erik played me some cassette of a Slint-like work of his in progress. I dug the half-sung refrain: "I will wait... I will wait..." Thus ended my first audition on the west coast. I didn't call them back. They didn't call me.
Five years passed. Jenya and I had since met and become a couple, and she had many friends in many bands including John, a bass player in an up-and-coming indie rock group called A Minor Forest. I knew nothing about them, but we went out once to see them live at the Bottom of the Hill. It took a moment for me to identify John's bandmates, especially as the drummer sat at the front of the stage facing away from the audience. But after enough squinting I eventually came to realize those other guys were Erik and Andee! Holy shit! So this is where they ended up! Good for them.
Of course I couldn't help but wonder: what if all those years ago I joined their band? Personality-wise it seemed like a mismatch, so I probably would have been miserable. Nevertheless I admit to being slightly jealous of their current creative situation and whatnot. That night I didn't mention to anybody that I knew those dudes.
Another year passed. My own indie rock group, Mumble & Peg, shared a five-band bill with A Minor Forest and others at some warehouse in SF. More of a chaotic party than a gig. We played early then packed up and left because the scene was too crowded and crazy. As we split I saw Erik outside and would have finally re-introduced myself at this point, but he was on his cell phone (side note: having a cell phone seemed pretty spiffy back in 1998). Oh well, next time, I guess.
Eight years passed. I was on tour with Faun Fables and playing a gig in Burlington, VT. We were opening for the band Pinback which, as it happened, now contained Kenseth - who was a former bandmate of mine from Species Being. So he and I found each other before the big show and caught up for a bit. I played my set, had dinner, and then sat in the balcony watching Pinback. It wasn't until the end of the evening that I noticed that one of the other people on stage with Kenseth was that Erik guy. Well, how about that! Our paths cross again! I guess that's what he's doing these days.
And once more I failed to touch base with Erik as I was busy hanging out with Kenseth after the show, and also preoccupied with having to get ready to catch a 6am flight to Toronto. Anyway, whatever. At this point, almost 15 years after we jammed in a scary basement that one time, I doubted Erik would recognize me and why should he care, really?
And that's pretty much that. So many random paths and gravitational forces and orbits in our musical lives. Sometimes things happen, sometimes they don't.
I do still vaguely remember Erik's song though: "I will wait... I will wait..."