Buffalo Tom in 1990 / Photograph by Michael Lavine from his book, Grunge
I just got home late Saturday night from the last of the Buffalo Tom touring for 2011. (Because, really, why would a rock band want to play on a Saturday night and come home instead on a Sunday?) It had been an especially intense little run of five West Coast shows in four cities, three states, and four days — flying each leg from Boston to San Fran, to LA, to Portland, then driving overnight to Seattle for a daytime lunch performance, which was broadcasted live on the excellent KEXP, and then a late-night club performance the same night. Flying home the next day, you would excuse me for sleeping the whole flight.
Back at Logan, I rounded up my guitars (always the last bit of luggage to arrive at baggage claim), and bid adieu to the band and two-man crew until the next time. I loaded up the cart and went up to meet my taxi driver, an enormous individual who did not leave his seat as I loaded the stuff into the trunk.
Making small talk, in between labored breaths, he proceeded to list all the classic rock knowledge he had accumulated, with a particular slant towards local rock history, such as the warehouse in Waltham where Aerosmith once rehearsed and recorded. Sadly, limits of his expertise betrayed him before he could come up with the name of the lead singer for the J. Geils Band.
“Peter Wolf,” I volunteered.
“What’s dat? Oh yeah, Petah Wolf. Right,” he affirmed. “So, are you famous?”
“Well,” I wearily started to explain, “Not really. We had our day in the 1990s, but never hit it really big like all of those guys.”
He paused in pensive silence for half a minute. “I can tell you’re not famous because you’re carrying your own equipment.”
You noticed that, eh, I thought. While you were sitting there watching me load my guitars into your cab, for which I will nevertheless tip you 20 percent for some stupid reason?
And that’s about how it goes. No respect for trying to keep a dream alive in one’s 40s. We must suffer the indignities of a cab driver pointing out that he can tell we’re not famous.
The night before, we had been walking to the venue on our way back from dinner at a nice place on Capitol Hill in Seattle when we passed a bar. Someone from our party, the erstwhile manager of Seattle’s 1990s faves, the Posies, knew the doorman and stopped to say hello, telling him she was on her way to go see Buffalo Tom.
“Going to relive the 1990s of your youth?” he asked her.
“We do it every night” was more or less the response from a bunch of us.
I went up ahead to relay this funny nugget to Chris, my bandmate, who had not heard the guy. Just then, one of the friends we had been walking with rejoined us and said the doorman had clutched her as we all left him and, embarrassed, begged her, “Please tell me those weren’t the guys in Buffalo Tom.”
The truth hurts. And the truth is, a few months away from our 25th anniversary as a band, we still manage to get out there and tour every once in a while, playing to a peak of 1500 in Brussels, or to a low of maybe 75 people in Portland the other night. But like the indie bands outlined in Michael Azerrad’s book Our Band Could Be Your Life — bands that, in the mid- to late-1980s, paved the way and formed a foundation for groups like us — we still have a devoted, if modest audience. We, in turn, have influenced many bands. And all of that that encourages us to keep trying to balance the cottage industry we have in music business with grown-up responsibilities like families and jobs. But it is increasingly difficult, financially, physically, and mentally, to tour or play to diminishing crowds. Of course we understand. Most of our audience is also in their 40s, and have kids and demanding careers. They live out in the suburbs, most likely. And we have to play weeknights as well as whatever weekend nights we can book. And who wants to go stand around in the rock clubs of their youth on a Monday or Tuesday night?
Of course, if we had made it as big as some of the bands that once opened up for us — Pearl Jam, Goo Goo Dolls, Hole, to name a few — then we would probably not have to worry about jobs and could mitigate time away from our families with lots of money. But it was not meant to be; we were a working-class band who made a nice living while it lasted, but once we got burned out on the road, the money dried up fast. Hence the day jobs starting around 2001.
I don’t mind. No one hands you a living in the music business, and especially not a long-term career. It was great while it lasted. But it could also be a mighty drag trying to keep a career afloat doing something you love. It is better to just do what you love without having to worry about having to constantly monetize it. I really enjoy marketing real estate in the Lexington area, especially all the cool midcentury modern houses that I have become known for. And especially working with all these grown-up Buffalo Tom fans.
But maybe like Tim Wakefield (for whom I wrote this “Ballad of Tim Wakefield” after a particularly stellar pitching performance two seasons ago), it is hard to hang up the glove or guitar when you know you still can bring it and give inspiration for middle-agers everywhere (by the way, see this great site from Joan Anderman for “Middle Mojo”). And Buffalo Tom still brings it. I just don’t think we can bring it to the road much more.
Instead, maybe we should open our own Branson-like theater and have everyone come to us. I may not still want to ride on the Bon Jovi-an “steel horse,” but I am, after all, still a cowboy. And wanted. Dead or Alive.
Now come buy a house with me.
Crossposted at parttimemanofrock.com
I am glad you made the trip, and I am thankful for your choices and career. Let Me Come Over pretty much saved my life during a time in my early 20′s when I needed something to cling to. As I stood the other night at the Troubadour, I was grateful that I could celebrate your music in person after a 16 year wait. If you build it, I will come.
Sometimes us 40 somethings like to get away from the suburbs, kids and demanding careers for a couple of hours even on Tuesday nights. Thanks for still playing….
Thank you for coming to LA! You guys still sound fantastic. To echo Jay’s comments, Let Me Come Over came out during a highly formative time of my life in college. I was hooked and have remained a fan since then. Thank you for continuing to make great music for over 20 years. It was very special to hear songs like Mineral live, nearly 20 years after I first put them on a mix tape for a college girlfriend. And the new stuff is still relevant and sounds like it comes from your heart. So thank you for the music you have given and continue to give to your fans. Hope to catch you again down the road.
Bill- that was a great piece. Pretty sad thinking that you might not be playing around anymore. I hope you guys don’t give up touring and recording any time soon. As someone who rarely misses a chance to see you guys, that would be rough. First saw you guys at an FNX show at Axis and have been hooked since.
I was one of the few women who attended your concert in San Fran last week. It was a great concert. So – dead or alive – you’re still giving a great performance.
I appreciate how, in your 40′s you may have had life knock on your door with responsibility agendas to fulfill, but the concert I heard didn’t portry any of that “age” or angst.
You are my husband’s favourite band and although I was on business in San Francisco the week before, we stayed extra days to come and see your concert. I was pleased how many of the songs I knew. He was thrilled.
It was certainly worth the extra time in San Fran!
Kathleen
Three of us flew up from Florida to the NYC show at Bowery ballroom. Us 40-somethings may not get out to as many shows as we used to, but we make sure we get to see the shows that matter, and we were not dissappointed. Great show – thanks.
Mike
Saw the show at the Troubador also. While others talk about older albums having resonance and aiding them in troubled times, I’m inspired by the latest album. To think you guys can still bring it (and bring it, you did), and still tap into themes that that are relevant to working people in today’s world, is inspiring. My friend and I wondered (yes, as we drove back to the suburbs after the show), why you never became huge. I said that in the arts, there is no meritocracy. Some great writers, musicians, and artists hang on the periphery of success, while horrible ones somehow break through. It ain’t right. And while I wish you made enough money to quit the day jobs and make more music, my friend said it’s better this way. BT fans know what the huddled masses do not: that three working class guys can Boston can bring it better than any of the formulaic automatons on the airwaves today. If you do stop coming west, I guess I’ll be forced to put my money where my mouth is, and fly to Chowderville for my next show. I look forward to it.
Thanks for the kind words, everyone.
thank you – once again – for playing in cologne. it was awesome. i would travel all over europe (amsterdam, bruessel,…) to see buffalo tom live.
My girlfriend & I attended the Troubadour show, also. Although I’ve seen you guys every time you’ve come through LA since BRLD (your solo shows as well), it was her long awaited first time. The show was definitely a big event in our household that we looked forward to for months with the great new album on constant play. The passion & energy that you bring playing your wonderful songs live is something that is often missing from bands half your (& our) age. We had a great time & getting to talk with you for a few minutes in the tiny bar was an unexpected treat! You are a true gentleman & your music will continue to be an important & enjoyable part of our lives. Please keep carrying the torch!
Please keep it up guys. Bill, don’t stop the solo projects either. We’re listening out here.
What a great piece and so glad that you guys were able to make it out on the road again. I was one of those suburban family men who just could not get away from work to see you guys on the tour. I know it is hard to set up tours like this but please try to give as much advance notice for the shows that you will continue to (hopefully) play at least in Boston and on the east coast so that more of us can get the chance to make plans in time to see you. Thanks again for all the great albums and still giving the fans what they want.
I have to say your london show at dingwalls was magnificent. You guys all seemed into it and happy and played so many of your great old songs as well as your new stuff. It was noticeable and nice to see a band content with themselves and not being sniffy about their back catalogue. Thanks for playing ‘The Bus’ which is still one of my favourite songs ever, You’ll always be appreciated. Who wants to be a big famous band anyway, your way too good for that…
As a big BT fan, it’s all about the music and I’m not seeing any signs of weakness with Skins. The touring is a bonus, and a huge one at that, especially for us West Coast inhabitants. You didn’t have to come out here, and I think everyone who attended any of the west coast shows didn’t think you would, or was a bit surprised you didn’t cancel due to lower-than-optimal tickets sales, but you did come out, and you put on great shows, and that just solidifies what a great band Buffalo Tom is. I think all BT fans would understand the band’s waning desires to tour, but please, please, please don’t stop making music.
Heck, 50-somethings need the Tom (Tom) Club. In the words of the Mighty Keef — “Keep on rockining and hope for the best.”
This is a really moving piece. I’m only 20 and discovered Buff Tom just last year, but they’ve become one of my favourite bands. The songs speak to me in a way no other band can, and it always gets me down that other people my age don’t appreciate you guys. ‘Skins’ is one of the best albums of the year, so please don’t give up before I’ve had chance to see you live