Notes on Being Young and Loud in New York

So Boom... a band is born

The story of Gardenia starts in late 2018. Our readers find myself taking classes at a local public college, working odd jobs at night to pay for textbooks and chopped cheeses for lunch (split in half to be re-heated for dinner). It was on my 19th birthday, full of confidence, ignorance, and nothing better to do, that I paid a visit to Funkadelic Studios in Manhattan, responding to a local Craigslist ad looking for new “interns” to help run the studio on nights and weekends.

It was unpaid, but I was a fresh adult living in the city for the first time, and I was desperate to finally break into the scene somehow. I had no “in’s” per se, so I felt very out.

Instead of going out with my new college friends or seeing family, I wandered into a smokey, dimly lit studio, and for a brief moment I felt like the coolest guy on Earth. This was the kind of stuff you saw in the movies! I interviewed in one of the studio rooms and got the job right there on the spot. I was only told later I was hired because I looked like I wouldn’t steal cash out of the register.

My first couple of weeks at the studio had me wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, even while scrubbing toilets and mopping floors. You couldn’t tell me this wasn’t everything I ever wanted at the time.

this is the room where it all started

Then I met my new boss, Tamir.

Tamir and I were around the same age, and had a similar passion for loud music, crass jokes, and laughing at the strange studio patrons that would walk in off the street to practice their craft. I knew that we’d be fast friends.

A few weeks later, we took a lunch break and decided to jam for fun. Tamir, never having played the drums before, asked if he could jump back there. I agreed, on the condition that he let me try singing. We got in our corners, and while we weren’t the Beatles, it clicked:

Wait, something’s here.

This was our Abbey Road

It’s that unexplainable spark that you know immediately. We decided to be a band that moment, and chose the band name, taken from the song name of the stoner-metal band Kyuss. From there, we spent MONTHS hidden away in the studio, practicing until our hands were cut with calluses and our brains were numb.

Any hours we didn’t spend in the room working on our music, we spent at the desk actually doing our job. We worked tirelessly to expand on that spark, and lo and behold, here we stand.

In a city of eight million people, somehow our comets crossed paths and created something amazing. I’m eternally grateful for those late nights huddled over our instruments.

Here’s To Fate,

Ryan