“I’ve been here every year, watching us get old."
Strange to think that anyone would still be talking about a little hardcore punk band that originated from a tiny island off the coast of Massachusetts, but here we are. Though we were only active from 1999 to 2004, There Were Wires somehow managed to leave a lasting impression on a deceptively large portion of the early 2000’s east coast hardcore scene, and I don’t think a single year has gone by that we haven’t discussed a proper resurrection of the band in some form or another. Life gets in th way, of course. We’re old men now, with kids, careers, families and obligations. But every time we all meet up, there’s talk. Maybe we could share out some riffs and write some new songs for fun? Maybe we could record them and put out a 7”? Maybe we could release a complete TWW discography? Maybe we could even figure out a way to shake off all the rust and play a show, just like it was 2001 again?But time and time again, we get sparked, life steps in, and the plans fizzle. Maybe next year.
Still, the one thing that always stuck with us was the desire to release our final 2003 record ‘Somnambulists’ the way we had originally intended in 2003. We were very proud of our work on the album, and happy to find receptive audiences to our more expansive, lumbering songs. But timing is a motherfucker, and unfortunately the record dropped shortly before our label shuttered its doors. So while we didn’t quite see the amount of promotion, distribution, and formats we hoped for, the album itself was (and is) very important to us. Ultimately, ‘Somnambulists’ reflects our final expression of our time together as a band, and for some of us, was our last musical contribution to the world.
So it was somewhere around 2016-20017 when Paul from TorJohnson Records contacted me to write some liner notes for the MOMENT discography release, and we started a conversation about possibly doing something with There Were Wires. Shortly afterwards, Casey Iodine returned from a 15-year walkabout with the intention to bring Iodine Records back to life. It was in this perfect storm of interest and support from Paul & Casey that we finally started putting the pieces together to make this vinyl re-release a reality. And like most things we ever did as a band, we made it all as difficult as possible by immediately being unable to locate the reels/DATS from the original recording - which delayed things by at least another two years.
Fortunately, the complete and utter dead zone of living through the age of Covid allowed us time and energy to persevere through our general lack of organization. Recordings were recovered, art and design were agreed upon, and podcast shows about old washed-up hardcore kids were booked. It’s strange and exciting, not so much that we are so far removed from our former 20-something selves, but that so many people seem to be just as excited as we are for this project. We know there is no going back, and we know that we can’t relive any part of our past and expect it to be what it once was. But we’re hopeful that the people who cared about our relatively obscure punk band 20 years ago (and we know you are out there) will find some value in us dusting it off and polishing it for a few more spins on the turntable.
And hey, maybe 2022 will bring even more surprises.
Thanks for the love & support, friends.
Photo by: Aaron Pepelis, Return to the Pit