Thesunflower.com
By Kevin Kinder

Night with a Band

A few weeks ago, national-touring band Squint played Kirby’s Beer Store, just south of campus on 17th Street. The Sunflower’s Kevin Kinder had the opportunity to meet the group members at the bar, and in the process, learned much about them and the Wichita live music scene. This article features Squint, but change the name of the group or change the venue accordingly, and you’ll find a similar evening happens more often than Wichita music fans should allow.

10 a.m. Thursday, Aug. 21)
while I am struggling to stay awake in Spanish class, Squint is leaving St. Louis. The guys played a gig at Frederick’s there the night before. The van they drive is an ugly brown, mid-‘80s model, with a trailer attached. It has no air conditioning.

Roughly 5 p.m.)
Tired from the road, Squint pulls into Wichita. Band bassist Young Charles would later comment, "I’m sunburnt from the road." He’d stuck his arm out of the van window for too long during the seven-hour trip. The band then rested and prepared for the show.

10 p.m.)
The scheduled show time. Two friends and I have just entered Kirby’s Beer Store. Sitting just stage left and trying to get my camera set up, a tall, slender man with a shaved head and an eyebrow ring approaches me and my friends, "One of you must be Kevin."

We stick out badly. Not only are we the only bar patrons not currently drinking, but we are also the only persons there under 30 years old. The tall man’s name is Dane Adrian. He is the lead singer and chief lyricist of Squint. "This place is @#!%& small," he says. "I know you told our manager that this place was small, but I didn’t expect this." I casually ask where they played last night. "St. Louis. Chicago the night before. Three nights ago, we played a show near home [the upper Michigan peninsula]. We hadn’t played a show around there in about six years. It was great."

A few more furtive glances around the room necessitated a comment: "This place is different." The band enters, and fairly promptly orders a round of beers, and content that we have everything set up, my friends and I do as well. Soon, Dane and I are talking more casually about the band.

"Matt [the guitarist] and I have been writing music under the name Squint for about 10 years. This lineup has been together for about five years." Dane excuses himself to "check out the microphone situation." He then asks, with rampant sarcasm, "I don’t suppose there is a sound guy here." There isn’t.

The band, due much to Matt’s decision to have another beer before show time, decides to take the stage at 11:20. Matt grabs his fresh beer and goes to the stage, plays a chord or two, and sits back down. "You know," he assures us all, "If my amp was turned up, I’d destroy this place."

We all sit together in the center table, sharing beers and stories. We talk about bands we like. Tote, the band’s drummer, as the rest of band pointed out for him, has been listening to a lot of Meatloaf recently.

Tote does not deny it.

The conversation progresses and digresses in many ways. When asked what they want to become, Young Charles suggested they should have their own clothing line. A rabid discussion ensues. Then, Young Charles added, "You know who would have had the best clothing line? Old school Van Halen. Because now everyone would be wearing assless pants."

Such conversing continued for some time.

11:20 p.m.)
Dane casually announces to me that, "I’m going to go sing." And that’s exactly what he does. When Squint takes the stage, there are exactly 15 people in the bar, band and bartender included. The band opens with "Glimmer and Phrase" from its new release, "Tinsel Life," and never looked back. And despite the lack of a crowd, the absence of a sound technician, and nearly unbearable heat, Squint puts on a genuine rock show. No frills. No fancy stage antics. Just rock ’n’ roll.

Matt works his guitar with far more potency than on "Tinsel Life." Dane jumps on the drum set and kicks the mic stand around, much to the amusement of all 10 audience members. Young Charles throttles his bass guitar and takes Jagermeister shots on stage. Tote slaps his drum set with the playfulness of Meg White (White Stripes) but with considerably more skill.

I can’t help but be sad. Four talented men, driving seven hours to collect the change that all 10 bar patrons throw into a bucket passed around midway through the set. Forty-five minutes later, Squint leaves the stage, cutting a few songs off the set list. Dane’s voice, likely because of the 105-degree heat, the humidity and exhaustion, isn’t feeling right. "We have two more shows before we have a break. I need to save my voice."

And just like that, the show is over. We drink some more beers and laugh. "You know," Matt says, "This would be the type of place he’d hang out at back home. It doesn’t look like a bar you leave sober."

But there is something more pressing on all of our minds. The show, the conversations, and everything about the night really exposed the Wichita live music scene. A nationally touring act plays for 10.
A unique group, playing original material, brimming with a down-to-earth vibe and honest musical intentions, passes through unseen and disheartened. "These shows are fun, but disappointing," Matt says. "This is probably the least amount of money we’ll make on the tour. Usually, we get a hundred or maybe more."

1 a.m. Friday)
Tired, buzzing, and with pages of notes on our conversation, my friends and I pack it up for home. The men of Squint are packing up, too. They’ll take off tomorrow morning for Oklahoma City to play again and then play Shreveport, La., the night after that.

There just isn’t any rest for a group of honest rockers like Squint.

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