Almost two years, we released an album called ‘wonderland’. It was an album that I was extremely proud of. It had everything I loved about music. Colorful chords, interesting song structures, creative melodies. It was poppy but it was smart. We were all very proud of it. And with the team of people behind the scenes, we were very excited at the potential impact the album could have. The album was being released on fueled by ramen, who had been (and still is) pumping out sensation after sensation. We had an awesome booking agent who believed in our sound. And we had a rather powerful manager to oversee our career’s each and every step. Everything should have gone perfectly, right?

For lack of a better analogy, a tripod can only stand when all three legs support equal weight. Deep into wonderland’s cycle, and much to our dismay, our tripod tumbled to the ground. Our dream team had been trounced by the russians. And wonderland suffered because of it. We continued to tour, nonetheless. We toured our little butts off. Wonderland has sold around 12,000 copies to date. To think that 12,000 people out there own a physical copy of the songs we worked so hard on is astounding. However, when compared with our expectations (and our little two-legged tripod’s expectations) the number is a blaring reminder of what could have been.

The frustration surrounding wonderland’s slow growth began to get to us. We were at each other’s necks. I became a prick. I was rude to everyone around me. I had always been the band’s own personal manager. I dealt with the label, our agent, our manager. Managed our funds. Maintained everything on the internet. Directions, merch, van trouble, blahblahblah. I took care of everything, and was happy to do so. But I started resenting the rest of the band for not appreciating my hard work. And they helped less and less because of the way I was. I became a martyr in my own mind. The distance grew, and peaked while we were in australia. I feel like I spent those 12 days by myself.

When we returned home we had a band meeting. Thomas told me he was quitting. He wasn’t happy doing this with us (translation: me) anymore. Jesse was quitting, too. He was engaged and wanted to return to school and settle into a normal life. A month later, andy called me to tell me he was joining them in retirement. It was over. My dream had reached its end.

When I got home, I called my brother paul. He’s a music composition major at western washington university. I asked him if he wanted to help me make an album. I lived at casey’s studio for a month, wrote during the week and paul came home on weekends and we would record. You won’t believe the crazy record that came out. Rudy from gatsbys played drums. I can’t wait for all of you to hear it.

One thing that thomas was never able to get over was the feeling that forgive durden had always been my band. He was just a visitor. As much as I tried to let him in, durden was my baby. He was more like the crazy uncle. We hung out a few days ago and decided to write a few songs together. It felt great.

I’m sure it’s hard to imagine a band continuing when 3/4ths of the members up and leave. And that’s part of the reason I’ve waited months to announce anything. I wanted to make sure I could continue doing this properly. Besides missing thomas’ crazy faces (and newfound gallagher-esque mustache) at our live shows, we won’t miss a beat. Things could have gone differently but they didn’t. And I’m finally okay with that. I’m ready to earn it the hard way. I couldn’t be more excited about the next chapter for forgive durden. Please feel free to ask me any question anytime, and I will try and answer as honestly as I can. Thank you guys for sticking with me and supporting good music. You’re the reason I’m still able to do this.