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You Either Die a Hardcore Band or You Live Long Enough To See Yourself Become a Joy Division Knockoff

Dear Esther,

The last I wrote to you was from Gettysburg at our show at the Flying Bull. The road has been cruel. Each performance has been more trying than the last. Just a night ago, the crowd set forth an all-time thrashing. So many wounded, it was near impossible to tend to all. Broken noses. Bloody lips. Spin kicks toppling wandering bystanders. As our set closed, teeth lay strewn across the soiled floor. The aftermath of the pit was beyond what I can describe.

For years, we have brought a message of positive attitude and family but after endless travel, and little sleep, even I can see it in myself: I am starting to lose the fight. And I cannot tell if this is the relentless drag of age or if it is just the times but the kids seem more brutal now than ever. Maybe we should just bite the bullet and become a Joy Division ripoff like all those who came before us.

I can see my men grow weary of this pace. Their eyes tell a story, almost as if the bloodshot red is screaming, “Can’t we just slow down and play something more atmospheric? Perhaps we could write a song that sounds like ‘Atmosphere.'”

Tomorrow may be our hardest campaign yet. Rumor has it that our new tour companions sound like the band Joy Division. They say the singer doesn’t even have to scale a bass cab and dive into the audience. They tell tale of him gently rocking his mic in a stand, shuffling his legs slightly, and turning his head from side to side. Oh, how my aching body begs for the gentle pleasures of a static mic and a quiet little dance.

I write you knowing our ‘Disorder’ knockoff is already writing itself. In my dreams I see us moving from VFW halls and dive bars to quaint little theatres. Imagine a crowd seated peacefully, clapping somewhat enthusiastically when the song is over.

I trust you will still love me if I am unrecognizable when I return. However, I fear I may have lost control and when you next see me, I will be humming a much slower and more commercially viable tune.

Yours truly,
Timmy TwoStep