Third Eye Blind and the Burned Bridge

It was late 1995 at the DNA Lounge in San Francisco. My band, Eyesore, was booked as the headliner for what was billed as an NEA benefit. But the night wasn’t about that. It was a showcase — their showcase. Third Eye Blind went on before us. It was the first time I’d heard them. They were competent and forgettable. After their set they didn’t bother taking their gear off the stage. They just went backstage and celebrated. They figured they’d done what they came to do and were getting signed. They were right.

We waited while they partied backstage. Their gear sat there like a barricade, filling up the stage we were supposed to play on. Midnight came and went. When they finally broke down their setup, the crowd had thinned out. Most of the people left were our fans, but a lot of them had already given up and gone home to get a few hours of sleep before work. We went on around one in the morning. It was a weeknight. It was not good.

During their set, Stephan Jenkins kept talking about how important NEA funding was, but it came out canned and clueless, like he was trying to sound deep for the label scouts. When we finally got on stage, I couldn’t resist. I leaned into the mic and said, in a dumb rock-dude voice, “I just want to say I think art is good and bombs are bad.” I thought it was hilarious. The few people still there didn’t know what to make of it.

A few weeks later we played the Kilowatt in the Mission. It was a good room — small but clean, good sound, a real stage. Jenkins showed up after the set, all smiles, trying to play the friendly local musician. He said, “Great show, guys.” Our singer Michelle was drunk and still pissed about the DNA gig. She looked him dead in the eye and said, “Fuck you. You guys suck.” That was the end of it. A bridge burned clean.

Not long after that, “Semi-Charmed Life” was everywhere. You couldn’t escape it. It was on the radio, in every store, every gym. Michelle must have been losing her mind. She’d already done the major-label thing once with Moth Macabre, and now these guys—who’d hijacked our show and coasted on their showcase—were suddenly all over the world. I never heard her talk about it, but I could feel it. Jealousy and competition were a major part of the scene.

I still can’t hear that song without seeing that stage full of their gear. Everyone chasing the same dream, and some getting it.