Thanks to everyone who bought my book Aching To Be and sent me nice notes about how much they enjoyed the book. I have decided that in return I will slowly tell the continuation of Scarce's evolving story through this blog. Chick, Joe and I have been overwhelmed and surprised by how many people held on to their belief in this band. Thank you for that. It means the world to us, and we will continue to make music and try and keep pushing the boundaries of where we are and where we are going. That being said, here is the start of that journey the second time around and how things came to be...yet again
BACK IN MY LIFE
For years after I left the band, Scarce haunted me. I worked through letting it go as best as I could, but it was always hard—always unanswered questions, and many, many regrets. I had run into Chick a couple times when we both lived in New York, but it was always awkward and uncomfortable. After 9-11 Chick called me to see if I was okay, but once the dust settled in the city, life went back to normal. Chick moved to New Orleans, I had a baby girl, and we lost touch again. When I was finally ready to put out my book I realized that I needed to let Chick read it first. Chick and I hadn't spoken in five years—but when he answered the phone he just said, "Hey, Joyce." I laughed and said, "How did you know it was me?" It was as if, no time had passed. We caught up and I told him about the book. He told me that day he had been bitten by a brown recluse spider, and I thought, MY GOD CHICK! He survived, thank god. But in classic Chick style, he laughed at his situation telling me, "my arm swelled up like you don't know and I had a show and I just strummed the guitar without feeling a thing."
I apologized to Chick for leaving the band the way I did. The thing I realized after writing the book, was somehow I had lost sight of the important thing about this band, my friend Chick. He had almost died—and I never thought about that. I just gave up on him. We spoke again after Chick had a chance to read the draft I sent him. He said, "I liked the book, and boy was I happy when that guy had a brain hemorrhage. He was such an ASSHOLE!" I acknowledged that the book needed some work still, and we reminisced about the silly arguments we used to have.
A couple months later, Chick told me about a guy named Larry who had managed Chick for a time. He was interested in putting out some of the Scarce unreleased demos online on his record label Killing Floor Records which he co-owned with Chris Cugini one of Chick's oldest friends from Boston. Then somehow we fell into talking about doing a show. Then somehow, we both admitted, "I missed you. A lot." And it was a great relief.
In usual Scarce style the recordings got boggled down in red tape and didn't come to fruition, but Chick and I decided we really wanted to try and play together again. Chick packed up all his belongings and decided to see what fate had in store in New England. When he showed up on my doorstep he looked tired. It felt like deja vu. Suddenly my past walked into the front doorway of my house and became my present again. In an instant, time was erased, at least for the moment. I felt giddy and scared, and I can only imagine how Chick felt. (readers you will have to beg him to write his side someday to find out).
When Chick and I sat down to play together for the first time it was instant—the connection still there. The moment our voices hit the air together singing, "maybe on days like this," I felt it again. Something special, something amazing. Joe showed up a week later from New York to practice for the reunion show, which did come to fruition thanks to the help of our friends Larry and Chris who worked hard to promote and put together a special night for Scarce. When Joe electrified our practice I was flooded with emotion. Everything had changed again. Scarce was a band again. I was playing music again. I could see that Chick and Joe felt the same way. We all smiled our way through our old songs that we used to know with our eyes closed. And it felt so good. It felt unbelievable. I felt so alive again. It felt so special. It was still Scarce even after ten years.
The night of our first show back, I was nervous and excited at the same time. People had flown in from far away to see the show, and the small club, TT the Bears, was packed. I couldn't believe after ten years people still remembered our band and still carried that same passion for the band they had so long ago. That night I got lost once again on that stage. I felt right at home. I felt like I had never left, yet, I had for so long. I felt beautiful and strong. I felt that passion of being in the moment, and only thinking about what is happening right at your feet. I felt like we had gone back to the beginning—starting over again letting the music be our guide.
BACK IN MY LIFE
For years after I left the band, Scarce haunted me. I worked through letting it go as best as I could, but it was always hard—always unanswered questions, and many, many regrets. I had run into Chick a couple times when we both lived in New York, but it was always awkward and uncomfortable. After 9-11 Chick called me to see if I was okay, but once the dust settled in the city, life went back to normal. Chick moved to New Orleans, I had a baby girl, and we lost touch again. When I was finally ready to put out my book I realized that I needed to let Chick read it first. Chick and I hadn't spoken in five years—but when he answered the phone he just said, "Hey, Joyce." I laughed and said, "How did you know it was me?" It was as if, no time had passed. We caught up and I told him about the book. He told me that day he had been bitten by a brown recluse spider, and I thought, MY GOD CHICK! He survived, thank god. But in classic Chick style, he laughed at his situation telling me, "my arm swelled up like you don't know and I had a show and I just strummed the guitar without feeling a thing."
I apologized to Chick for leaving the band the way I did. The thing I realized after writing the book, was somehow I had lost sight of the important thing about this band, my friend Chick. He had almost died—and I never thought about that. I just gave up on him. We spoke again after Chick had a chance to read the draft I sent him. He said, "I liked the book, and boy was I happy when that guy had a brain hemorrhage. He was such an ASSHOLE!" I acknowledged that the book needed some work still, and we reminisced about the silly arguments we used to have.
A couple months later, Chick told me about a guy named Larry who had managed Chick for a time. He was interested in putting out some of the Scarce unreleased demos online on his record label Killing Floor Records which he co-owned with Chris Cugini one of Chick's oldest friends from Boston. Then somehow we fell into talking about doing a show. Then somehow, we both admitted, "I missed you. A lot." And it was a great relief.
In usual Scarce style the recordings got boggled down in red tape and didn't come to fruition, but Chick and I decided we really wanted to try and play together again. Chick packed up all his belongings and decided to see what fate had in store in New England. When he showed up on my doorstep he looked tired. It felt like deja vu. Suddenly my past walked into the front doorway of my house and became my present again. In an instant, time was erased, at least for the moment. I felt giddy and scared, and I can only imagine how Chick felt. (readers you will have to beg him to write his side someday to find out).
When Chick and I sat down to play together for the first time it was instant—the connection still there. The moment our voices hit the air together singing, "maybe on days like this," I felt it again. Something special, something amazing. Joe showed up a week later from New York to practice for the reunion show, which did come to fruition thanks to the help of our friends Larry and Chris who worked hard to promote and put together a special night for Scarce. When Joe electrified our practice I was flooded with emotion. Everything had changed again. Scarce was a band again. I was playing music again. I could see that Chick and Joe felt the same way. We all smiled our way through our old songs that we used to know with our eyes closed. And it felt so good. It felt unbelievable. I felt so alive again. It felt so special. It was still Scarce even after ten years.
The night of our first show back, I was nervous and excited at the same time. People had flown in from far away to see the show, and the small club, TT the Bears, was packed. I couldn't believe after ten years people still remembered our band and still carried that same passion for the band they had so long ago. That night I got lost once again on that stage. I felt right at home. I felt like I had never left, yet, I had for so long. I felt beautiful and strong. I felt that passion of being in the moment, and only thinking about what is happening right at your feet. I felt like we had gone back to the beginning—starting over again letting the music be our guide.
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