Waxwing (photo: Jason Schreurs)
In 2005, I was working for a now-defunct, Philadelphia-based magazine called Wonka Vision. I was invited by the magazine’s founder and publisher, Justin Luczejko, to meet the magazine’s main editing staff in Seattle to cover the final two shows by a band called Waxwing.
Luczejko was perhaps the world’s biggest Waxwing fan, and I had been spinning the band’s third and final album, Nobody Can Take What Everyone Owns, a whole lot, so it seemed like a good chance to head down to Seattle for a weekend. Little did I know, that trip would change me.
It’s not like I met my soul-mate on that trip, or had a near-death experience that would alter my outlook on life. Nope. I simply watched Waxwing play their final two shows and returned home with a much deeper appreciation of the blood, sweat and tears that goes into playing in a rock band.
The eight-page cover story that resulted in our trip, fittingly entitled Waxwing: The greatest band you never heard, detailed the relationships of the Votolato family (vocalist/guitarist Rocky and guitarist Cody both play in Waxwing) and only scraped the surface of that trip, and what it still means to me. More than that, the whole Wonka Vision staff was so ecstatic that we could pay tribute to such an amazing band that unfortunately had decided to call it quits way too soon.
Much to my delight, Waxwing reformed in 2013 and have been somewhat active ever since. The reunion show they played in August of that year was one that I will always regret missing, yet I hold out hope that I will have a chance to see them again.
A few months ago, I woke up to find a very interesting post in my Facebook feed. Waxwing had recorded live at Seattle’s KEXP Radio and the full performance was on YouTube. After dancing around the room in a slightly unhinged fashion, I sat down and watched the performance while memories of that trip in 2005 came flooding back.
Are we all intrinsically connected by this music scene? Perhaps. Do bands like Waxwing affect us for a lifetime? Yes. Do “reunions” ruin our original memories of days and bands and shows gone past? Not if they’re done properly.
Give me Waxwing: then, now, forever.
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