I write this because we recently celebrated our third anniversary. Three years are a long time for a band such as ours, especially when you take into consideration that many of our predecessors and inspirations barely made even one. By now, you'd think we'd have built for ourselves a solid fanbase, but the truth is, we still find ourselves playing to crowds of about ten people.

Far be it from me to pass judgment. I realize a lot of you simply can't make it to all of our gigs, and I understand. We're all working and going to school and engaging in other activities that prevent us from attending local shows. And some just aren't into what we play, which is perfectly alright with me. If we were completely accessible to every last person, then we'd be doing something wrong. Do more people like Dashboard Confessional than Rites of Spring? Most definitely. But would Dashboard Confessional exist without Rites of Spring? Most certainly not.

Now, had you spoken to me a year ago, I would have been extremely frustrated by this fact. It's disheartening when you pour your heart and soul into something that you love so deeply only to discover that some folks just aren't all that interested. I can't even count the times I've found myself moping around after an intense show, asking myself why I received no compliments of any sort, or for that matter, why nobody even bothered to speak to me. These kinds of circumstances tend to breed a feeling of alienation, and that's something I've grown accustomed to.

Sure, people like to talk about supporting the local scene, the very foundation of the whole industry (for lack of a better term. Obviously, art and industry are two wholly separate entities), but when ten people at most show up for an event, you start to wonder if there's any action to back up the talk.

These days, however, I'm thankful for the ones who do go out of their way to attend. I'd rather perform to a small group of people who understand the trials, the blood, the sweat, the tears that go into making our music, than to 50 or more people who really just aren't that interested in that sort of thing. At the end of the day, what's more important - how many people were at your show or whether or not you made an impact on those that did? There's an old saying that goes something like "Only ten people bought a Velvet Underground record, but all ten of them went out and started a band." The old quality versus quantity debate.

Sure, certain bands may have a level of recognition that's greater than our's. But what really matters is whether or not they inspire anyone to go out and create something of their own. Screaming hordes of fans don't make the scene. It's the kid who comes up to you after your set and tells you that the music you help make keeps him/her going. That's what's important.

This is my way of saying thank you to those of you that we've inspired over these past three years. And you know who you are, so there's no need for dropping names. Just keep on doing what you do, keep on creating something, and maybe, if we all try hard enough, we can make a name for the Central PA/MD scene.

-dick