Short answer "yes" with an "if", long answer "no" with a "but."

What can I say? We've been tilting at windmills for almost 5 years now and with almost as many line-ups. It's been both a lot of fun and a lot of fucking hassle, but in the past, something always ended up happening where we got back together, ready to soldier on. So what does that mean? Well, I guess I'm saying that after all the roadblocks we've endured, I'm never quite ready to declare it to be over, even when nothing much is happening. It's one of the only optimistic things about me.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't really, really hope that last year was going to be our year, especially after our run at SXSW. (When David Fricke tells you he thinks you're "awesome," you can't help but squeal like a little girl and start envisioning all of the critical and commercial adulation to come; it was our Almost Famous moment.) And after that, we had our stellar CD release show--one of the best moments of my life, really--where it felt like we were truly unstoppable, even if that record's sales ultimately weren't much to speak of. (Kudos to Daniel and Indierect for believing in us anyway.) Everything seemed to gel in the spring (but in retrospect, that's typically a season of self-delusion). Even after the Trail of Tears that was our West Coast tour--what with the drunken fights in the van, the morale-destroying shows in El Paso and Phoenix, and the completely deflating bust that was our meeting with a "top" A&R man in L.A.--it seemed like we were going to pull through.

Again, what can I say? We had a bad summer. Things were pretty tense for a long time, and that's a problem when your bandmates are also your best friends. Our recordings weren't really coming together like we wanted. The new material was getting shot down seconds after we wrote it. There was a lot of fighting going on, and a lot of talk about how everybody was "getting older". It seemed like a good time to take a break.

Of course, that was three months ago. Since then we've managed to rekindle our friendships with each other and come to terms with who we are as individuals (something we hadn't really thought about in a few years). Kevin and Ramirez have spent some time feeling out other musical projects. Lyon is still kicking ass in Zykos and recording bands 100 times more famous than us at The Bubble. And me, I've been relegated to writing about music instead of playing it as the editor at the Austin edition of The Onion. We still call each other, and whenever we see each other at a bar or club show, we inevitably end up huddled around to the exclusion of others, because after all this time we still don't know who else to talk to. It's a cliché, but these guys really are my brothers, and I wouldn't know what to do if they weren't around.

So given the amiable terms we're on and the lack of real obstacles, is there a possibility that The Arm may reconvene and attack it for all it's worth again? Let's just put it in another cliché: Nothing's impossible.

And for everyone who stuck with us this far, who continue to write us messages, play our songs, and bug us every time they see us on the streets, thank you all so very much. Really. When we first put this thing together in my garage back in 2001, we didn't have any higher ambitions than playing a couple of house shows. The fact that we've managed to play for so many people and end up in the record collection of people all across the world is fucking amazing. Even if we never play another note, I will always, always be proud of that. I hope you can forgive us if we just don't have it in us right now to keep fighting to be heard.

love,
sean./the arm.