Step Zero was important for any number of reasons. First of all, it was my introduction into the wonderful world of original music. Secondly, a case study in interaction among temperamental and opinionated musicians. Thirdly, it marked my first real recording efforts, which were illuminating in their own right. Finally, the music was actually pretty darn good. The band consisted of myself, Mike Welles on bass and playing the role of grumpy old punk rocker, Tim Nassauer on guitar and unswayable opinions, and Andy Agiorgitis doing his best impression of a rock singer until we realized that impression wasn't quite enough, and we because a three-piece.

Recording Subliminal Yee-has, our six-song demo/EP, was a huge deal. We had actually done some recording prior to that, but it seemed pretty small-time by comparison. I don't even recall why we picked the studio for that initial effort, back when were still calling ourselves Suckerpunch, and there were lots and lots of strange things that came out of it. Like forgetting to bring up the level on the kick drum for one song. I still don't understand how we all missed that. Anyway, the second recording was the real deal, and it was at this point that I realized mixing down with a band is about both vision and compromise. I had finished my little solo project on a four-track back in Hyde Park by this time, where I had complete control over every sound, and the contrast between that and five guys in a control room trying to decide whether the guitars needed to be louder couldn't have been more stark.

And the final note of the band was both an up and a down. We played Metro, which is big for any local band, even if it was on a Wednesday in front of about 50 people. Anyway, we got a dressing room and a case of beer, so Mike is downstairs lounging about, as he was wont to do, and I suggested we get upstairs to, you know, play. Mike responds, in his typical "I was in a punk rock band in NYC, so I know how everything works" fashion, that the Metro folks will come get us when it's time. Except when I see one and ask how much time until we start, the answer is "you're already five minutes late, and you'll have to cut your set short." So, it's ostensibly our biggest show, and we're suddenly scrambling to get going. As if that weren't enough, I got a ticket that night because I was driving a commercial vehicle (a rented U-Haul van) on Lake Shore Drive, although I eventually convinced U-Haul to reimburse me for that.

I don't know that I had a particular approach to this band. I was still young enough that I wanted to "prove" something with my selection of parts. As a result, I'd occasionally reach for a lick that I either couldn't pull off, or didn't fit at all in the song. That said, I was mostly happy with what I was doing. The music was conducive to interesting parts, as it had a bit of that funky edge of Living Colour, Jane's Addiction and pre-stupid ballads Red Hot Chili Peppers. One thing I was definitely fond of at this particular time was the two-handed ride pattern, moving between hi-hat and ride cymbal. That shows up a LOT in this material.

Put plainly, we didn't get along very well even when we were getting along. Most of the division was between Mike and Tim, to the point where Tim had already quit the band by the Metro gig, but was playing it because we already had it booked. At that point, I was planning to look for a new guitarist, but when the bullshit with the late start went down, I realized I didn't really want to deal with Mike anymore, either. By this time, we had already kicked Andy out, because he wasn't really a singer to begin with, although he was trying.