Meeting Third Eye Blind
On finding the story in unexpected places, chapter ii
Meeting my Heroes is an occasional essay series from Matt Carmichael.
Third Eye Blind have somehow endured. They had some hits in the mid-to-late ‘90s that have stuck around even today. But they were poppy and mainstream and clearly I should be mocked as a sell-out for liking the infectious hooks of “Semi-charmed Life.” But yeah, that’s a great track.
Part of the reason they hold a special place in my heart is because of the time I met them. I was doing a story for a site called JamTV that would later be bought by Rolling Stone. It was a big deal and a sound crew was going to record audio for a precursor to a podcast. I was going to write an article.
The publicist had sent me a press kit, which in those days meant she mailed me a copy of the CD, a glossy photo and a folder with a bio of the band and some copies of articles other people had written about them to give me some background. They were just beginning to break so there weren’t really a lot of articles and almost nothing on the Internet yet.
So I did what prep I could, arrived at Metro, where they were playing, early and hung out for not just their soundcheck, but the opening band’s as well.
Finally it came time for the interview, I sat down with the band, the tape rolled and we started talking.
It was one of the worst interviews I’ve ever been a part off. To start off, we did a round of introductions and when three members of the band had introduced themselves, I said to the final member, “you must be,” whatever the drummer’s name was.
But no, they’d fired the guy listed in the press kit and this was someone totally different.
Awkward.
It went downhill from there, largely because the singer came off like an egotistical jerk and clearly enjoyed talking to people like they were idiots.
Afterward, my editor said he physically cringed as he listened to the tape.
But he was also amazed at the story I pulled out of the experience.
My lesson here is to never give up on the story. It’s in there somewhere, even if it’s not where you originally thought it was. I don’t mean this is the same way as with the Dicky Barrett story in the chapter before this. I mean in the way that sometimes you just have to keep looking until you find it — often in the shadows, or around the corner, or in the characters on the periphery as with this story.
If someone’s a jerk, keep asking the questions you need to ask, don’t let them get in the way of doing your job.
And if you like a song, it doesn’t matter what anyone else says — just play it louder.
Here’s the story I found, backstage, in the belly of a bunch of opening band boys from Glastonbury.
Third Eye Blind have broken a lot of rules.
Bands who have never recorded aren't supposed to sign big contracts with major labels. Brash young singers aren't supposed to talk their way into an opening gig with a band like Oasis. And they certainly aren't supposed to leave Oasis' fan base -- notoriously impatient with opening acts -- um, charmed.
But they did, and a full set and encore later, it became hard to turn a blind eye on this foursome from San Francisco.
Singer Steven Jenkins finds that rules just don't have much of a place in his life. "I would say that there are rules out there, but there are only rules if you choose to follow them. The cool thing about rock music is that it's always a form of rebellion, and I think rock bands need to remember that. Before it's a business, and before it's your job or anything, it's an art form that's based on rebellion."
Side-stepping these well-worn paths of rock has landed them smack in the middle of the mainstream, however, and if their three heavy-rotation singles and their upcoming opening slots for U2 and the Rolling Stones aren't enough to convince you, consider the following signs of stardom.
A tall platinum blond named Patrice is passing out the second round of steaks backstage at Chicago's Metro before 3eb's sold-out show. She had to run out and buy round two because the opening band Reef mistakenly chowed the first batch of steaks. Patrice says she's from the Mayor's office. Apparently, superpol Richard Daley's daughter is a big 3eb fan and asked her dad to pop for dinner for the band. The tab? $300.
Eating steaks on the Mayor is a sure sign that a young band is swimming in the mainstream. But an even bigger sign is that someone might be willing to, say, make up the whole story just to meet the band and hang out back stage with them, which turned out to be the case.
Some women aren't quite comfortable throwing their entire bodies at Jenkins, but they do have other options. When discussing the differences in live shows since "Semi-Charmed Life" broke, Jenkins mentions that girls throw red undergarments on stage all the time. (As a sign of their demographic, though, a helpful bouncer notes that half the bras thrown on stage were "little kiddie bras.")
Then there is the band's rock myth. Guitarist Kevin Cadogan, who also shares writing credits on several songs, relates the true tale of a girl in Baltimore who was clinically dead for 10 minutes after drowning but came back to life miraculously. "She said that the last thing she remembered before seeing the tunnel of light was hearing 'The Background,' and she knew that she couldn't die cause we were playing that week," he recounts.
And of course, there's the Internet, already populated by a host of fan sites devoted to this band and their one self-titled album. But don't believe everything you read about them on these sites. "The Internet is a huge electronic rumor mill," says Cadogan. "Yeah, a cyber knitting circle," adds Jenkins who goes on to attribute their large Internet fan base to Third Eye Blind's "really wordy songs."
Most of the songs are written by Jenkins, and are inspired by everything from a cross country road trip to win back an ex-girlfriend ("Motorcycle Drive-By"), to a Kerouac quote ("Burning Man"), to just hearing a great lick Cadogan was playing one afternoon.
"'Graduate' was a riff that Kevin started playing right before we went into the studio. It kind of gave us this righteous kick-ass feeling," says Jenkins.
Their songwriting doesn't follow any one pattern, although it does have a certain fluidity. "The songs bring on a mood, and the mood brings on a narrative, and those bring on the lyrics, and hopefully they all fit together in one piece," says Jenkins.
When Cadogan is entered into the mix, the result tends to be songs that are much richer musically.
"Those are the extra special ones," Cadogan jokes.
"Kevin's got a much wider sense of chordal structure and a little more sophistication, a little more hair on his chin," chides Jenkins.
"I can't even grow hair on my chin," Cadogan retorts.
Regardless, the audience gets it, looking beyond the poppy, hook-ladden sounds of "Semi-Charmed Life" to the darker lyrics that lie beneath the melody. "The way the people know all the words to all the songs is quite amazing. There's a really good vibe at our shows. I think the audiences really get it," says Jenkins. He later proves his point, starting off "Semi-Charmed Life" by letting the audience sing not just a line or two, but most of the first verse before he joins in. The 1,100 screaming kids knew the words, no doubt.
"We're not one of those bands who goes out and stares at their shoes and looks like they're doing a favor for their fans," explains Jenkins.
"I already know what my shoes look like," chimes in the otherwise utterly silent bassist Arion Salazar.
As they follow this road, which should find them touring all the way into 1999, those shoes are going to get rather worn. Chances are, though, you won't hear the members of 3eb complaining at all.
-==-
A side note that didn’t make it into the story. After the show, I saw the woman who bought the band dinner (on her own dime, not the Mayor’s clearly.) She was heading out for a drink with the singer. I caught up to her and asked her if the huge expense was worth it. “Oh, yes,” she told me, and off they went.