As one of the greatest rock bands in history, My Chemical Romance could have chosen almost anyone to join them on their fall reunion tour. If one were placing bets on who they’d choose, a pop-punk band that havn’t played live since 2014 or released a record since 2005 wouldn’t make most people’s short list of winning selections. This is a limited run of massive arena shows that will draw thousands of fans, and given those kinds of stakes, every opener must make it count.
There’s something special, then, about My Chemical Romance choosing Midtown to open for them on their upcoming fall reunion tour. Here we have two bands who emerged from the same tight-knit New Jersey punk scene in the early 2000s, who remained close despite traveling along two wildly divergent trajectories, now brought back together under seemingly unlikely circumstances.
New Noise caught up with drummer Rob Hitt and guitarist Heath Saraceno to get the full story on how some casual conversation and a chance encounter led to the band’s return to the stage.
What do you remember the New Jersey scene being like back when Midtown first formed in the late ‘90s? I’ve always thought of that time in that location as being a really fertile period for punk rock in general. From your perspective just from having really been in the thick of it, what do you remember that being like?
Rob Hitt: Yeah, so I can field that one. I think it relates closely to Midtown very specifically. Typically, when you have one of your first bands or your early bands, you meet in high school or in your neighborhoods or at the skate park, or, like, the town that is just over. For us specifically, before Midtown, we were all in different bands. I had a band called The Royalties. Heath and Tyler had a band called Nowhere Fast. Gabe was in a band called Humble Beginnings.
All small little local bands, but the nature of New Jersey, which I think it’s the most densely populated state in the country… because of that, kids, especially under the age of 21, would not be able to play shows because shows back then they were all at bars and clubs that were 21 and up. So, what they decided was they said, “Screw this. Let’s find a place to have a show.” And when you’re young, initially it’s a backyard or basement or a garage.
And then quickly after, to get people from other towns, you’d call your local ambulance rescue or your VFW hall, your American Legion, and say, “Hey, we know you have a space with a small stage or just a little auditorium. We’re going to bring in audio. Can we put on a show with some friends?”
And you get a friend to run the door. So, that would happen, and I met these guys because our little high school bands would play shows together. Gabe was all the way up in Springfield. Heath was in Somerville—We’re talking specific Jersey, I know that’s boring—Tyler was in Bridgewater, and I was in a town called Hillsborough, so we didn’t exactly live in the same town, or even necessarily near each other. With traffic was full, could have been 45 minutes away from me, so we just hung out at these shows. Our bands played shows together. We became friends. And eventually, in time, we realized we all had musically, friendship-wise, and goal-wise, similar things in common.
So, it was the nurturing of the way New Jersey was able to put on shows to allow people from different towns to then meet. And I think the same goes for music fans, right? You could live in Hillsborough, but you hear there’s a show in Garfield or Wayne at a firehouse, and you may drive an hour and change to go see a show with these other local bands.
So, suddenly you’re not stuck to your high school. Or to going to the city to see a concert. Or a concert could be (in a) 50-to-400-capacity firehouse. So, I think I think it played a lot not just to nurture Midtown, but the physical being that we even existed in the first place.
Heath Saraceno (guitar): You used the word “fertile” to describe it then, and that that’s pretty accurate. I would go so far as to say it was flooded because, like Rob mentioned, shows up in Garfield, shows down the shore, there would be three to four shows a weekend, and sometimes we would play Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Sometimes we’d play twice on a Saturday; we’d go from show to show. The hardest part about being in that scene back then was deciding which shows you were going to go to. There was always a show, always something to do.
Today, are you still in touch with what’s happening music-wise in New Jersey? How do you feel those things have changed or haven’t changed between when Midtown first started to today?
RH: I have a little record label called I Surrender Records—I think New Noise has even helped us out quite a bit over the past few years, which is great—and there’s a specifically a band called Pollyanna from New Jersey on the label.
Talking with them, it seems as if there’s still those basement shows in New Brunswick, but the DIY shows of Elks Lodges, American legions, ambulance halls, and firehouses has subsided quite a bit. The idea of that scene, with regards to a show every weekend, I don’t think it exists to the same extent. I think a lot of people look to play places, and just as an example, Asbury Park, right? There’s a bunch of venues there, and it seems that a lot of times, the venues are more of the target than the DIY shows.
I suspect part of that reason is because now that the internet is so ubiquitous with music and open access. You don’t feel the necessity necessarily, I’m guessing, to have to figure out a way to play shows every weekend. Now it’s a shame because I think a lot of what made it so special was that the shows were the breeding ground for community, not just to see the music.
Listen, you would go to shows to hang out with your friends, right? So, it made it a place that you would go there, and you would see people were tabling flyers for things like animal rights stuff. You might go to the Manville Elks and see Rick Ta Life peddling 30 T-shirts and 100 pieces of vinyl. It was like a mini mall. It was a band mini mall. At times, there would be 20 booths set up, and you’d be watching the bands. How was the band supposed to sell anything if these other people are peddling all their other merch and stuff? Might even have a shirt of the band that was playing, which is kind of not cool.
I don’t really see those sorts of things anymor,e and I can only imagine it’s because there’s just so much access. And if somebody’s going to sell something, they’ll do it online or whatever it may be at this point, but things do still exist. There are still like basement shows there in Brunswick and whatnot.
When Midtown were active, you released three full-length records, a handful of EP’s back in the early 2000s. So many bands from that era and bands that you came up with from that time, a lot of them have fallen out of people’s memories, or they’ve just become a footnote, whereas Midtown has had sustained interest from folks you’d had enough staying power that even two decades later, My Chemical Romance wants to bring you out on the road.
In your view—and this might be difficult to answer with any degree of humility—is there anything that you attribute that longevity to? What has like kept you like in in people’s minds all this time?
HS: It’s a good question. I think the fact that we went away so quickly, we were only a band for five-and-a-half, six years, we didn’t have enough time to overstay our welcome, possibly. We did come up with a lot of other great bands who ended up going on to great success and still have incredible careers. They’re still able to devote their lives to music as their main priority.
I feel like we were in at a good time. Maybe we were a little early for what we were doing, but we just didn’t overstay our welcome. What do you think, Rob?
RH: I think we were fortunate in a few ways. Hopefully, having marginally above average music was part of the reason.
HS: There’s that humility. (laughs)
RH: There’s that humility. But it was interesting because we were talking about the New Jersey scene. I think we were fortunate to be a part of that. We had a lot of friends and relationships from New Jersey, and we signed to Drive-Thru Records after that, which in a way had its own version of New Jersey, right?
Its version of New Jersey wasn’t the location of New Jersey, but it was the grouping of bands that were around. We invited New Found Glory up to New Jersey to perform, and in return they put on a show for us in Florida. And then we were planning to sign to Drive-Thru, and we told them about New Found Glory, and then they said, “Oh, this band’s great, let’s sign them.” So suddenly, that version of what New Jersey was became this grouping of other bands from around America. I think we were fortunate to be part of multiple communities.
Heath, I think that is interesting, we never really had the opportunity in all those years to really say goodbye properly. There was really no reason for it one way or the other. We never had to do it.
Your last album was released on a major label with Columbia after leaving another major label for the record before that one. From the outside, it really looked like Midtown was on the cusp of superstardom. It looked like the stars aligned for things to really take off.
But then after that record came out, the band split up, and it looked like that was that. Was there anything that you can speak to that that led to the band’s dissolution at that point? What was the story there?
HS: So, I think I think what happened, we put out a record that we were proud of. We had major label backing, we had a lot of money behind us. They gave us a ton of money to make a really great video with a great director. They pushed the single to radio, and it didn’t hit. It just didn’t catch on. And then once it didn’t catch on, they pulled it all away. They pulled the funding. They gave it a week or two weeks on 92.3, it didn’t go anywhere, and then they said, “OK, well, we’re not pushing anything else to radio. Here is a budget for your next video that is 5% of the first video. Knock yourself out.”
I don’t think we got any more tour support after that. It seemed like we stopped getting support from the label, and we didn’t really feel like there was much behind us at that point. We didn’t understand what happened because here we are, putting something out that we thought was the best thing that we had ever done in our career, that the time was right for, and it just didn’t work.
So, I think we started questioning what we were doing. The process of writing that album took a lot out of us, and personally I didn’t think that I could go through that again. They build up, and then they let you down. I can’t speak for anybody else, but for me, I started to lose hope in the band, and I feel like that influenced our personal relationships. We weren’t really getting along very well, either. I think maybe we had some animosity, didn’t understand what was going on, and didn’t know how to regroup. Would you say that that’s accurate, Rob?
RH: Well, when you’re on a major label, very specifically a major’s goal—especially if you look at the year 2004, 2005, Spotify wasn’t even invented yet—their goal is one goal and one goal only. They may say it’s to develop you as an artist. It’s not. Their goal is to develop you as an artist if you have a radio hit that’s going to get mass exposure and ears for the major label to turn around and sell albums. I think they lightly tried to test us out at rock radio, alternative radio with our song “Give It Up” on the last album, which was Forget What You Know.
For them, it was like, “Oh, we don’t see it reacting or our analytics, it isn’t quite working or we’re not getting enough ads at radio stations or they’re only overnight spins.” They look at that, and they’re like, “Oh, OK, well that’s really all we can do here because we’re major label, and we don’t develop and work on other ways to really break the band. So, OK we tried.” Well, either start over or drop the band, right? That’s what labels usually do.
Not saying they were like… listen, this isn’t a thing against Columbia because it’s not. This is just… that’s part of what being on a major label is. It’s what you sign up for. As they say, you do the deal with the devil, and you play by the devil’s rules. It didn’t quite work out where you get the full-on support that you would if you had, you know, a Lizzo in today’s world where they just keep going and keep pushing, but that’s OK. I think that that was certainly part of it.
Then the other part of it was that we definitely wrote an album that was a departure from our previous albums. So, that makes it a little harder for fans to digest it and get behind it, not because they like it or don’t like it, but because it’s a little bit of a curveball to what you were being built up to expect.
And that’s why with any band, when you write an album where musically it’s different—and every band has the right to do that, don’t get me wrong—but you should also expect that hey, you instilled some sort of trust and it’s a funny thing ’cause you don’t think of it like trust generally when you’re talking about an artist writing their songs, but you do build some sort of trust with your fan base that they’re expecting something to at least sound a certain way.
And if it doesn’t, they may be a little confused, and that confusion may also lead up to, “OK, well we were used to one specific genre, and this is a little bit of a departure, so we just don’t know what to do with this here.” Your fans may not latch onto it, the same way they might because they grew up in a certain scene. and that goes for us, too. Listen, I’ve felt this way about other bands. Bands that I’m a fan of, or have loved, and then they put out a record and I’m like, “Wait a second. I’m a little confused.” I may not give this album a second chance, even though I should have, and then years later you go back and you’re like, “Oh shit, this was really good. I really missed it.”
You know, it’s like one of those like funny stories you always hear about, like Jawbreaker right— unrelated to me, and unrelated to my personal opinions here—but you see about Jawbreaker and somehow like the cool album for everybody to like now is Dear You, after the fact when everybody got into them for 24 Hour Revenge Therapy. Then Dear You comes out, and it’s like, “What the fuck, they signed to a major label. They changed their style. This sucks.” Then suddenly, Dear You becomes a lot of fan’s favorite album for Jawbreaker.
So, it’s the idea of that it’s easier for me to speak about another band than myself, obviously for perspective reasons, and I was in the band; I wasn’t the person going to the Midtown shows, but I think that’s a fair example of things like that and what happens in the moment sometimes because the current music you may write is a little too far in the future for the current day.
HS: Like Eddie Wilson. He had all those great hits in the Jersey Shore scene in the 60s, and then he put out an experimental album, and the record company wouldn’t put it out. And then he drove off a bridge with the mask, right? That’s from a movie but didn’t really happen. That’s ready in the cruisers. But you know what? I’m saying the same thing.
In retrospect, what are you most proud of having accomplished when Midtown was a full-time band?
HS: I think we had the opportunity to play with a lot of great bands and shared the stage with a lot of people that we looked up to and really enjoyed their music.
We went on a bunch of great tours. We played arenas with Blink 182. We did a couple of stints on the Warped Tour, we did a couple great European tours. We went to Japan.
Looking back, we got some great press that I can show my kids and say, “Look, this was the band in like Guitar World magazine in 2003. Look at my hair, isn’t it awesome?” We have those types of things to look back on, but I think I think what we’re proudest of is the music that we left behind and how it has endured, and how some people are discovering it now.
Even after we were a band, up until now, there are people that that we meet that will tell us things like we were a big influence on them and they really loved our band. I think what’s the most impactful for me is when someone that I don’t know and doesn’t know me at all in my adult life will say, “Oh, you were the guy in that band I loved, I used to listen to that song all the time.” Or, “I saw you guys play at the Birch Hill and you threw a guitar at my friend, and he’ll never forget that.” Those types of things are what I’m the proudest of.
RH: I don’t think of things for myself in terms of “proud” when I think about Midtown. I think about the craziness of being… you’re 20 years old, and suddenly you’re shipped off to go play Australia. WTF is that, right? Like, I guess somebody is interested; that’s cool, we’re going to go there, and people are singing our songs. That’s wild.
But what’s even more interesting to me is that you while you were in this band, that was anywhere between five-and-a-half to seven years, we were a band somewhere between there. You meet these people that become friends 25 years later. Still keep in touch with them. You’re still friendly with them, and you have these memories that you can never forget.
It’s wild. The long game in music is like nothing else. It’s not like high school where you may remember or you may talk to one to five friends, max. Honestly, one to two friends in some cases, and music just sticks with you a different way. It was really a lucky, fortunate place to have been a part of, but I guess there you go, that’s your that’s your long game that brings us back today, ironically, and why we’re even doing this interview in the first place.
Yeah, absolutely. So, what do your kids think of your music now when they see some of those old press clippings and things like that?
HS: My kids don’t care. They just think it’s weird that that’s what I used to do. One day, they’ll think it’s cool, but as of right now, that you know they’re starting to look forward to. The shows. But I know that Tyler and Gabe’s kids took a very big interest in wanting to see old videos and listen to the music and things like that. And that’s really cool to hear. But mine, they don’t really get it. They will one day. I’ll force it down their throats. (laughs)
RH: I think we had a rehearsal—I might be wrong; it might have been Tyler—but I think we had a rehearsal, and one of your kids called, and we thought it’d be so exciting to put on FaceTime to show a slide, and he was just, like, annoyed because he wanted the Netflix password or something like that.
HS: Yeah, my 6-year-old FaceTimed me while we were practicing, and I was like, “Hey dude, listen to this.” I set up the camera, and we’re playing, and he’s just looking stone-face. Then we stopped, and I was like, “What do you think?” He’s like, “I want to get this app for my iPad. When are you coming home? I’m hungry.”
RH: Your parents are just never going to be cool, no matter who you are. Your parents are never cool.
HS: Especially if your parent is me.
When Mikey Way asked you guys to join them on the road this year, what was that conversation like? I think the easy assumption is Jersey and probably being tight knit with those guys, but I also ask because My Chemical Romance did blow up and really took off. They are what you could call one of the greatest rock bands in history, and they could have brought anybody on tour with them, so I think it’s special that they would choose Midtown. I’m curious what that conversation was like.
HITT: Yeah, we do have an interesting history with My Che,m but before we even go there, something you said was interesting that made me think. This is wild, but for anybody already in their 30s, do you remember that moment around 2002 to 2003 when you’d be listening to K Rock or a classic rock station, and Nirvana would come on, and then suddenly they called it classic rock? It was no longer grunge or Nirvana; they were one of these classic rock bands. I think My Chemical Romance might be an actual rock radio, classic rock band for young people today.
For people a little younger than us it was Nirvana, and for us, the classic rock bands were Led Zeppelin. Before that, the classic rock band was Rolling Stones. It’s interesting that when you were trying to explain what My Chemical Romance means to people in rock music, I think going down the lineages of bands like that really gives a little bit of clarity to the meaning they may have to a generation.
A lot of the bands I mentioned—and I guess the one in the middle I missed was Guns And Roses— you have a few special bands in between each generation, for each generation that is meaningful not just on an enjoyment of music level, but you find an interesting kinship to the band on a personal level, and that’s what they’ve been able to develop.
But… there’s a lot of little intersections with our lives and My Chem. At the most basic level, with our bands either before Midtown or with Midtown in the local New Jersey scene, we would play shows. But what happened after that is Midtown would go on tour, or we’d be a part of these tours, and then My Chemical Romance was the opening band on the tours. They were a true, honest, great punk rock story because they were a rock band not manufactured by a major label, and the proof is right there, that they were the rock band playing the VFW halls and the American Legions opening for us, opening for other bands.
So, what ended up happening was we became friends with them by way of all those means. And then Tyler moves to Manhattan. I moved to Brooklyn, Gabe lives in the city at the time. Heath’s I believe in Jersey or just on the Jersey border in New York and we needed a rehearsal spot. So, we hit up My Chemical Romance we were talking, and they had a place right past Passaic, right past Giants Stadium, where they had a rehearsal space that we could drive to easily from New York, and we shared a practice space with them. That was really great and that was convenient.
And then Midtown breaks up after all of that, I’m living in Brooklyn; I need a roommate. I’m telling Mikey from My Chem that I’ve got an opening in the apartment and he’s like, “Hell, I need a place. Let me move in.” So, Mikey moves in, which was great, and this was after Midtown broke up, so this was maybe ‘06 or ‘07. I think it was ’06, and My Chem was getting big at that point.
If anybody ever is curious what the benefit, or I should say, what are the biggest perks of living with a future superstar in training in 2006, is that Mikey had—-it was the most amazing thing ever—he had a golden Wonka candy ticket. He was part of this program where you call the Golden Ticket hotline, you give them your address, and they send you two massive FedEx boxes of candy. When you’re a young kid in your mid 20s, that is a great perk of a roommate to have, so that was really that was fun.
Other than the time that the chocolate… I’m in my bedroom and every morning around 2 or 3 a.m. I’m getting woken up and hear all these noises. I’m like, “Oh my God, is there mice in the walls or something?” Well, it turns out I had a bunch of chocolate that had fallen behind the TV set. So, at 3:00 a.m. in the morning, we’d have mice come in every time.
You can feel free to cut all of that out, but that was my experience with Mikey and the roommate stuff. Nonetheless, we had a lot of these great experiences with My Chem, and we were great friends. In fact, they were on a label called Eyeball Records and we had our EP that we had bought back from our friend Jay Pinball, who had initially put it out when he had a record label in the late ‘90s.
Our first EP, we got it back,S and we allowed our friends at Eyeball Records to license that first EP from us and put it out on Eyeball. So, you know we had a lot of these straight and dotted lines to My Chem as friends, whether it was the same label, roommates, going on tour together, sharing rehearsal spaces.
But that really wasn’t what happened recently. OK, so Tyler, our other guitar player. He would always text us, “Hey guys, what’s going on? We should jam sometime.” Like alright, here we go again. (laughs) This is this is years after we broke up so. Finally, Heath and I were like, “Alright Tyler, we can get together and just play some songs.”
It was a week—Heath, you probably know the exact date—it was like March 10th, 2020. No plan to necessarily do a show yet, but Tyler kept feeding the little fire, putting the kindlings down. This is before emo broke… it feels like in 2022 emo had this big resurgence.
So, we already had these kindling’s on the fire, coals on the fire, whatever the term is. What ended up happening was, we go and we play some songs. I remember being like… sitting at the drum set didn’t even feel right, it didn’t make sense to me, which feels so much better now. Which is fun, but and then the next week, all the sudden everything is shut down.
So, then we fast forward to about 10 months ago and we’re like, “All right… maybe we should just play a show in New Jersey, just figure it out.” Everybody wanted to do it because their kids wanted to see them play. Their kids were now old enough to be able to come to a show and really understand what their father was doing.
We said, “OK, we’ll try to figure it out and put something together.” Fast forward after this conversation, only a month or two. I guess Tyler is texting Mikey—and I didn’t tell anybody this, I don’t think anybody told anybody that we were thinking about doing a show again—but Tyler tells Mikey and I didn’t know. And then ironically, I don’t know a week or two or three weeks later or something, Gabe sees Mikey in L.A. in person and Mike is like, “Hey Gabe, heard you guys are doing a show.” Gabe was like, “What? Who told you that? How do you know that?” (laughs) And he was like, “I was talking to Tyler.” So that then essentially let Mikey know that we can play our musical instruments again and potentially do a show. Since My Chem was making up the dates that were over the pandemic and they could choose some new bands to take out on the road with them, they gave us a call.
I was like, “Holy shit.” I’d never imagined in a million years that us, just doing this one little practice before the pandemic, could just snowball into all these amazing things like playing in arenas again. Heath even said earlier in the interview, one of the best experiences we ever had was opening for Blink 182 in arenas in 2001. Not only can you not say no to that, but the truth is that’s potentially an experience of a lifetime you may never have again, and that also allowed us to put up those headline shows that we were talking about which somehow sold out. The New Jersey shows sold out within two days of each other. Two different shows. It’s really been a dream come true.
Funny enough, one of the only other things that—you know, Riot Fest didn’t exist when we were a band—I remember seeing Riot Fest every year and being like, “Damn, that’s like the perfect festival for us where you can go and play but also go and see all your favorite bands.” And we got an offer to do it. We couldn’t say no because it was just this one thing that was super cool and super exciting that we’ve always been such a fan of. This all really snowballed into something a lot more than I think any of us ever would have imagined, with all these shows going on now, having to weave that in and out of vacation days. That’s the hard part. We all have full time jobs and families, so that’s what you’ve got to figure out.
We were talking earlier about the longevity of Midtown’s appeal over the last 25 years or so. At this point, do you think that interest in Midtown is driven primarily by older fans in their 30s or 40s who have been with Midtown since the very beginning, or do you find that you’re picking up newer fans and younger kids who are discovering you later as well?
HS: I think it’s a good mix. There are people who we’ve known since our first tour that hit me up when we made the announcement. Like, “Oh my God, I’m so excited to see you guys, haven’t seen you since 2005.” And these are people whose floors we slept on when we first started touring, that would open their homes to us and let us crash on tour, they would come see us and we remain friends with them.
But there’s also a pretty good amount of new people who never got the chance to see us and they only found out about our band in the last, you know, two, three, five, 10 years, whatever it is. They never got a chance to see us that are going to be coming out to the shows as well. I think it’s somewhere right in the middle of those who it’s probably more for nostalgia, but a good portion of people who never got to see us play.
How does it feel for you guys playing those songs now? That’s an open-ended question, but I’m curious from your perspective, how does it feel to revisit those songs?
HS: Man, it’s just so much fun playing again. I didn’t play guitar for, like, 10 years in my life. I stopped touring in 2009 and I just put the guitar away. We played some shows in 2014, and then, over the pandemic, I started playing again and being able to get into a room with some of my oldest friends in the world and make a ton of noise and play songs that we wrote together 25 years ago is special.
It’s so much fun playing with these guys again. Rob, I don’t know how much time you took off from playing drums, but I can’t imagine it was too easy to play drums for you over the past 15, 17 years, however long it’s been.
RH: Truthfully, I was a little nervous about the whole experience because other than a short stint of those two festival shows in 2014, I haven’t played drums since 2005. I was like, “Oh my God, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to do this. Do my do my muscles, do my hands, even work anymore? And can this happen?”
I started playing at least once a week in February. First, I said to myself, “I’m getting old, and I’m not even working out. This is just a great workout on its own, so maybe I can lose a few pounds.” Which I’ll keep my fingers crossed on, hasn’t happened yet, but let’s hope that happens one day. But the thing about it, was I was just having so much fun. I’ll pull up Spotify; I got a list of, like, 25 songs, and I just go through the beginning of rehearsal to the end, playing all the songs, or at least try to if I don’t get too tired.
And it’s just like, “Wow, this is so much fun, and it’s been so much fun.” I’ll even twist Heath and Tyler’s arms at the end of band practice and be like, “You know, I know we never really played this song, but can we at least try it?” We’re having so much fun. We’re playing songs we sort of never played live or only played live in the very beginnings of Midtown, so it’s been freaking cool to have the ability and it makes going to practice not a chore.
That’s the beauty of what I think music is supposed to be in the first place, so, in a way, it feels in certain ways like it did when Midtown first started. It was fun to play. You didn’t have the pressure of a record label, the pressure of, “Well, however we perform is going to affect the rest of our careers.” We can just do it because it’s fun and we enjoy it. I mean, the truth is, if we were doing it for money, we wouldn’t do it at all. We would just stick
It’s been great to have this other outlet. There’s even times we all begged the guys, “Hey, can you learn this one cover song I think would be a lot of fun to play just for fun, not even necessarily for a show?” It’s one of those things where we’ve been able to look at this in a totally different perspective than we ever had while we were in the band.
After you play these shows this year, do you have any other plans in the works for Midtown?
HS: Sadness. Probably be very sad after the shows and depressed. We’re all set for the year. We have everything booked for 2022, and who knows what’s going to happen next year, but we don’t have anything in the books. Really excited about what we know is coming up. We’re not thinking too far ahead, but I don’t think we’ve ruled anything out, either.
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Check out the video for “Give It Up” here:
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Photo courtesy of Big Picture Media
