Looking back on the past 3+ years of BDF, it's interesting to consider just what the band was trying to accomplish, and whether or not we managed to achieved those goals. The word "goals" being used liberally, because I don't think that any of us really had concrete, well-defined, tangible goals going into the whole thing. There were basically two unspoken goals: have a good time and make some fun music. Seems like an easy enough thing to shoot for, no? Especially when the band is not a bunch of strangers who hardly know each other, but five friends who all understood that outlook on the band.

Let's take a brief look back at the "original" BDF formed way the hell back in 1994. 10 years ago, myself and several friends were into music. We went to every halfway decent concert that came along. We had huge groups of people going to the big tours like Lollapalooza and Metallica/Gun N Roses. We had some sort of music playing device with us everywhere we went, blaring a wide variety of music. Whether it be my beer-soaked boom box up in Fay Park at a keg party blaring Nine Inch Nails or the car stereo blasting Metallica as we drive (still half-drunk) to our (ill-advised) Saturday morning bowling league. The music was all around us.

So, it seemed like a logical progression to try and play something. Of course, none of us owned instruments or knew how to play them. But that didn't stop us. Oh no. We got our hands on instruments, and Beer Drinking Fools was born. We often spent our summer days while at work writing lyrics to ridiculous songs while keeping one eye making sure nobody drowned at the pools where we lifeguarded. We spent our days off in a backyard with multiple cases of beer and our instruments. Each song got one and only one take. The music was awful. The coordination between different instruments was non-existent. The recording device was a small boombox with a microphone pickup the size of a pin hole. But there was one thing about these days that makes them so vividly memorable: We had fun.

Fast forward 7 years later... BDF had become not much more than a fond memory, with an occasional "reunion" jam together, and an infamous "lost" video. But the memory remained, and the legacy of BDF continued to exist in the minds of our friends who heard the stories about the band or were subjected to (punished by?) some of the recordings from those days. I'm not sure when the idea to resurrect BDF first occurred to me. But a big part of the inspiration had to do with getting a new job in Manhattan, where I'd be closer to several of my college friends. Suddenly, I was back in the heart of New York City. Happy hours, live shows, bar hopping, and other excitement was right outside my office! Public transportation would take me home, so there was no reason to worry about drinking and driving after work! Meeting up with friends for happy hour was a simple email away! Life was good.

Richie Rheingold and I began discussing over emails the possibility of forming a band. After all, we had been in a band together back in college. RAG had been something similar to the old-school BDF vision, except we had a few people who could play their instruments (not me). Rich was down to explore the possibilities, so we started considering who we knew that could play drums and bass, the most obvious holes in our musical arrangement. Remembering Mike Michelob from our college days (I actually went to high school with him too), and a fellow former RAG member himself, I sent Mike an email asking if he'd be interested in joining the BDF juggernaut and offering him stock options in BDF Enterprises, Inc. Needless to say, Mike accepted the offer to play drums. And he was soon to be joined by my former co-worker, Mike Moosehead on bass. Original BDF member Rich Guinness was invited to join the crew, and the fivesome was complete!

It didn't take long for BDF to find a formula for success: Go to a bar before practice and drink. Go to practice and work on songs while drinking. Go to a bar after practice and drink some more. Go home, go to sleep, and somehow make it to work the next day. The first several songs were leftover BDF tunes from old-school BDF and some of the newer "reunion" type jams. Pretty simple, yet catchy. And the simplicity of them made it easy for everybody to get a feel for each other's playing. After the first few months of the new BDF, we had about a dozen original songs in our repertoire. And, most importantly, we were having a blast!

When BDF finally made it's live debut in November of 2001 at the (now defunct) Lowdown in Mount Vernon, it was a night to remember. Almost 50 people turned out that night, making it BDF's biggest "official" crowd during the whole 3 years. The other band had cancelled, so BDF actually got to play 2 sets that night. Of course, with only about 15 songs prepared, the sets were pretty much identical. But the reaction by the fans was universally positive: "Wow, you guys didn't suck!" was the general consensus. I think most of the people who came that night still had the old-school BDF in mind (the one's who couldn't play their instruments) so they were pleasantly surprised that the same silly yet deeply-alcohol induced lyrics were matched with respectably coordinated music. The BDF experience officially moved into a new stage. Not only was the band having fun, but now their friends were getting into the action too!

The shows kept coming along at a consistent pace. Although the first album hadn't been recorded yet, most venues were willing to give us a shot in shitty time slots. And a few gig slots offered by our friends in long-established NYC band Squirrels From Hell was a nice help as well (thanks guys!). Two of the more memorable gigs we played around this time were in two pretty famous venues, where many a legendary band had played on the same stage we would. Playing CBGB the first time was intense. The history in that place alone was enough to make our nerves a little more jittery than usual. But nothing a few beers couldn't take care of. Continental may not be as well-known as CBGB but boasts almost as impressive a history. Playing those two venues (not just once, but multiple times over the 3 years) are a couple notches in the belt that I'm sure BDF will be proud of for a long long time.

Then there was the album "No Refunds". Recorded in one day at Dare Studios. It was quite an experience recording an album in a real studio like that, and we learned a lot. Luckily, we knew most of the songs well enough to nail them on the first take. And there aren't too many noticeable screw ups in the final product. ;) The actual art and stuff of the album was done fairly quickly and painlessly. The name of the album was discussed in a very diplomatic way, with all band members having the ability to come up with potential names, and then a multi-round elimination tournament was held, with band members casting votes. In the end, it came down to "Piss Off The Neighbors" versus "No Refunds". "No Refunds" won by a coin flip! Overall, the whole experience of recording and producing the album was fun. And seeing the final result, (complete with professional shrink wrap!) was an awesome accomplishment.

Shows continued to come in, and the crowd size was largely dependent on when the gig was. Our crowds ranged from about 2 people (on a Sunday at midnight) to about 30 people (on an early Friday night). We rocked. We drank beer. We had fun. Practice was held regularly about once a week, and we usually had a show or two each month. We wrote new songs. Life was good.

Then towards the end of the Summer and through the Fall of 2002, BDF hit its first little obstacle. Attendance at practice began to taper off a bit. The weekly commitment (of both time and money... practice space isn't free, nor are the pre- and post-practice beers!) was beginning to catch up to some of the members. Some of the fun was beginning to go out of the experience. The band decided to take a short break from practice and gigs. A few weeks later, everybody had caught their breath, rested up, and were ready to rock n roll again. Well, almost everybody. Despite several attempts to contact Rich Guinness, he could not be reached. We emailed him and the email bounced back as undeliverable. We called his home phone number, and got the message that his line had been disconnected. We called his cell phone number and it was answered by someone who had never heard of anybody named Rich. BDF picked up the routine of practicing on a weekly basis again. And waited for Rich Guinness to contact them.. and waited some more... and waited a little longer... We waited from mid-August until mid-October without any word from Mr. Guinness. That's 2 whole months. Meanwhile, we continued practicing and speculating about where he was. Maybe he had gone to Vegas to live the "American Dream" he had spoken of on several occasions. In any case, a decision was made, a tough decision, to replace him. Brian Ballantine, a co-worker of Richie Rheingold's, was invited to jam a few times at practice. And he was soon extended an official invitation, and became a Beer Drinking Fools.

Rich Guinness definitely brought good positive energy to the BDF performance, and was always up for a few pints before and after practice and shows. And he was very considerate in helping those of us get around, often picking us up and dropping us off from practices and gigs. And we appreciated what he contributed and sacrificed for the good of the band. But we had to move forward.

Anyways, the band picked up right where we left off, and rocked and rolled along. Ballantine fit right in. As BDF played more and more often and brought decent sized crowds, we were given better timeslots, like weekend nights. Which had resulted in more people coming out to the shows. It was a nice little cycle going. As long as we brought a good crowd, the venues gave us weekend time slots. As long as we had weekend time slots, we got a good crowd. Life was again good. We were having fun.

About a year later, in fall of 2003, it was about time to record a new album! Since "No Refunds" was released in February of 2002, the band had written close to 20 new songs. So now it came time to pick our favorites, and get them on a record! As smoothly as the first album went, the second one was far from it. There was some disagreement on album name. Although we used the same exact process as the previous time to name the album, and "Drinking Shoes" was the clear majority choice (4 to 1), the lone vote against insisted that the final title should unanimously chosen. The rest of us tried to explain that getting a unanimous decision between the 5 of us would be near impossible, but the explanation fell on deaf ears. In the end, we compromised by changing the title "Drinking Shoes" into the longer "Put On Your Drinkin' Shoes". The explanation: so people won't think that the title refers to actually drinking your shoes.

Then there was the artwork issues with the album. The amazing Joe Simko agreed to do the front and back covers for the CD case, so that was covered. But we still had to deal with the inside artwork. A friend of Brian Ballantine's was paid to take some band photos. The photographer showed up agitated and rushed, and pretty much set a somber mood for the photoshoot. And the resulting photos had no obvious choice for the band photo that would go inside the case. After much deliberation, one was chosen that was far from a unanimous choice.

Then there was the mastering fiasco. Steve St. Ides trusted the skills of a bandmate of one of his co-workers. Not only was the mastering job done slowly (took about 3 weeks to get the first version, despite being promised it in a week-and-a-half), but it was done wrong. Several songs had their beginnings chopped off. Several seconds were missing! So it had to be mastered a second time. The week-and-a-half job wound up taking over 4 weeks. Not good.

Anyways, by early February, a full 3 months since recording the album, "Put On Your Drinkin' Shoes" was released. The final product was one we could be proud of, and almost worth the long wait. The release party was a smashing success, and life was good again! With the album finished and on record store shelves, the fun had returned!

The band continued playing shows to promote the album. People seemed to like it. Clubs continued to give us nice weekend time slots. The crowd continued to come out in respectable numbers to show their support and enjoy the show. BDF was actually beginning to earn some name recognition around NYC.

It was around this time that BDF drummer extraordinaire Mike Michelob informed the band that he'd be moving to Chicago at the end of the summer. At the time it was considered a harsh blow to the future of BDF, but one that could be overcome. After all, there would be new drummers lining up around the corner for a chance to join NYC's most notorious beer punk band, right?

In the weeks that followed, an important thing happened that helped us reach the decision that BDF would call it quits once Mike Michelob moved - it stopped being fun. Instead of the weekly ritual of going to the Abbey Tavern for drinks before practice, it became a weekly argument about which bar was the most convenient/cheap/talented/nearby. There was confusion about which day of the week practice would occur on, and miscommunications about dates and times of upcoming shows. There was insistence that every band member be present for the filming of the "I Wanna Beer" video (which contains zero shots of the band). Attendance at practice again began to dwindle. The pattern seemed somehow familiar, yet different.

So the band played on through their final bunch of shows. We continued to practice, write new songs, and drink beers. The St. Mark's Ale House happy hour became a new favorite gathering spot, as the deals there are pretty much unbeatable, and the beer is ice cold (thanks yo!). But the decision had been made: When Mike moves away, we would not replace him on drums. BDF would come to an end. We started planning the final show and invited a bunch of friends to play along. As the date drew nearer, it was a weird feeling to know it would all be over soon.

The final show was an absolute blast. No doubt the most fun show of them all. We had 3 bands that we were friends with play with us: My Brother's Banned, Squirrels From Hell, and Defective Skrew. All rocked. All kicked heiney. And we even jumped on stage with SFH and DS to sing the chorus to some of our favorite songs. When BDF played, the set was extra long, and the beer cans were a-flying. Fans jumped on stage and sang along while we played some of our most well known tunes. The crowd was large and rockin, and demanded two encores, which we delivered. We went out with a bang. And a lot of beer. Both in our bellies and on our clothes. The end was pretty much as perfect as it could be for Beer Drinking Fools.

You still reading? Good. So now, let's recap the good things. I think it's safe to say that myself, Richie Rheingold, Mike Moosehead, and Mike Michelob thoroughly enjoyed the BDF experience and wouldn't trade it for anything or any other band. We wrote over 40 original songs about good times, beer, drinking, fond memories, work sucking, drinking beer, and general foolishness. We played 29 shows at 15 different venues, including the legendary CBGB. We released two full-length albums. We created two highly praised music videos. We drank lots of beer. And, most of the time, we had fun. You see, BDF was never about making it big or being a relationship or making money. We became exactly as big as we wanted to be. We made enough money to sometimes cover our bar tabs. We had people tell us that we rocked, were funny, and put on a kickass show. We had people tell us they loved our lyrics, or our videos, or our songs, or the occasional mailing list emails. We had people tell us that our shows were a lot of fun. And there's that word again: "Fun"

That's what it was all about... the music, the beer, the friendship... and the Fun.