Every time I look up from my computer, I see a My Morning Jacket tour poster from 2003. September 22, 2003, to be exact. The signatures on the poster have faded. Jim Jame’s signature and “WHOA!” have gone. This poster was a gift to me from one of my closest friends, Matt Galluzzo, after we played what was supposed to be the show that took our band to the next level. Little did we know this was the last time we’d stand on stage, in a venue, together, as a band.
We had landed by some miracle the opening slot for a rising band and one with a serious buzz: My Morning Jacket, fresh off the release of It Still Moves, and already stirring national attention, and The Sleepy Jackson, a genre-defying band from Australia, who sounded like George Harrison got stuck in a fever dream with The Flaming Lips.
And then there was us: Down on Jane, the local band from Pittsburgh.
The Bill of a Lifetime
It was the kind of show you say yes to without even asking for details. We loaded in like we always did, duct-taped cases, mismatched cables, torn tolex on amps from years of local gig scars. The room, beautiful, already buzzed with anticipation, and the crowd wasn’t your typical bar crowd. People were there to listen.
We weren’t headlining. We weren’t even the draw, but we belonged on that stage, and we knew it. Over 200 tickets were sold for that show, mainly by Tom and Matt. The two of them both worked their asses off to sell those tickets.
The Sound Guy
I remember the sound guy unshaven and scruffy, with long sweat-matted hair that was more salt than pepper. His jeans were stained from years of crawling under stages and running cables through beer-soaked floors. He looked at us like he’d seen our type a thousand times before.
We ran a quick sound check. He gave a half-smile, part warning, part sarcasm, and said,
“Now don’t turn up your amps.”
Just as he started to walk away from us, he turned back and looked at us with a skeptical smirk that felt like he knew something we didn’t, he added:
“Have fun, boys.”
Like, somehow, he already knew this was the end. This was it. I’ll never forget that smirk.
Time To Go
The lights dropped, and we climbed the side steps onto the stage.
I wasn’t usually nervous before a show, but that night, I was. Maybe it was the room. Perhaps it was the weight of what it all meant. We gave a simple wave to the crowd, I took a breath, picked up our instruments, and Matt counted it in:
“One, Two, Three…”
“I can’t deny, I can’t find…”
Tom hit his floor drum three times. Dum-dum-dum.
Finder started. Scott’s guitar in that waltz time signature echoed in that club.
I’ve played that song a hundred times.
Heard it a thousand.
But the way it sounded that night, that night, is how I will always remember it.
Matt Said It Best
Before the second song started, Matt looked out over the packed Rosebud floor gave a quick intro as to who we were:
“We’re Down on Jane. We uh… Well, we’re from here. We’re from Pittsburgh. Thank you all for coming out. We’ll thank My Morning Jacket later. Thanks.”
That was it. No long speech. No band bio. Just a reminder that amidst the two national acts with label reps and tour buses, we were the locals holding our own. Five guys making music in a Southside basement somehow stepped into the national spotlight. There we were.
We Hit Our Stride
Just as the nerves wore off and we all settled in, halfway through the set, we started “With This Soul.” I looked over and saw Tom smile nervously as his snare was pointing in the wrong direction. The stand had come loose and angled towards the rest of the kit. But Tom never flinched. He never missed a beat.
He leaned into it, adjusted on the fly, and drove the song forward like a machine with a pulse. I remember looking back and just shaking my head. Of course, he kept playing. That was Tom. Solid as a groove, unfazed by chaos.
Our Final Bow (Although We Didn’t Know It)
We didn’t realize it at the time, but that Rosebud show was one of the last we’d ever play together on a stage.
Life was catching up to us: jobs, relationships, kids, good things, bad things; life. It was a slow drift. One that pulls bands apart, even when nobody wants to admit it or realizes it’s happening, but that night, under the lights and within the walls of one of Pittsburgh’s best-sounding rooms, it still felt like we were building something. Like the next chapter was still ahead, but it wasn’t. And that’s okay.
We went out swinging, sharing the stage with two incredible bands, one that went on to become legendary, and a room full of people who clapped like we meant something.
And in that moment, we did.
Down on Jane opened for My Morning Jacket on a Pittsburgh stage just as most of the world was learning their name. We earned our place that night.
We ARE from here. And for a while, we played the hell out of it.
The set list from that night:
- Finder
- Sometimes
- Nothing Left to Give
- Black And White
- With This Soul
- Home
- Be You
- Time Remains
Here’s a bootleg recording from the show that night.