It was 2005. The five of us had just packed into our 1990 conversion van en route to our first, last, and only tour, when our van betrayed us and ate the mix-tape I had made especially for the occasion. As a group, Target Market are not a superstitious people; but we should have seen this as a bad omen. What followed were two weeks of haphazardly thrown together shows, two weeks of hoping...maybe...we'd be paid at the end of the night, two weeks of raw-dieting (cold hot pockets: not so tasty), in towns that one would have to squint to be able to see on a map. We built enough "character" on the trip to fill the St. Louis skyline. Perhaps it would be fair to accuse us of being lovers of self-deprivation, because, against all odds, we had FUN!

We would spend the next few years writing and recording records, playing the occasional weekend in Anywheresville, Midwest, and forever trying to get back on the road. We made a long series of dubious business decisions and involved ourselves with good people, but people who, in the end, were up against it...the same as us...just as helpless and alone in the vast ocean of micro-level MySpace indie bands. Perhaps I'm over-analyzing here, because, at the same time, we never took ourselves very seriously, either. In fact, we wanted our last show to go unannounced. We wanted simply to fade away like that guy at the party who leaves without saying goodbye. What changed our minds was the people's reaction to this news.

People kept urging us to have a last show (we should have held out for the lucrative reunion tour...that would've been something...to have our second tour BE our reunion tour) and it made us realize that perhaps...maybe...we actually meant something to the city of St. Louis. Bands of our size often feel compelled to tour the world; but, in most cases, touring simply does not make practical sense...wouldn't be prudent. After all of those years spent longing for the road, I feel content, in the end, to have been primarily a St. Louis band. We love our city (we love the suburbs a little more...but they lack rock clubs). It's like that Taylor Swift song...what we've been looking for has been here the whole time.

We feel proud that a young James Bishop, who, with Say Panther, has written some of our favorite pop songs ever, was in the audience at some of our earliest shows. We feel proud that, every summer, we've been able to drive four hours south of St. Louis to Murfreesboro, Tennessee to play alongside Stewart Copeland and see him develop into a 21st century Paul Westerberg; even if his band, the Lake, forced us out of a world of guitarmonies in which we could not compete. We feel proud that we are able to share the stage with these two juggernauts...but also thoroughly intimidated (who wants to play after that, really?)

Regardless, we hope to see you there this Saturday, April 3rd, at Off Broadway. We will have all of our merch there for free (we have boxes upon boxes of CDs...I guess we thought the CD would be a lasting medium...who knew?...even if you don't remember us when were gone, the Earth will remember us by the pounds and pounds of CD plastic rotting on its surface). This is the last time you'll have to miss that episode of the Office to come see your friends play. This is the last time you'll have to spend the money that you don't have for the price of admission. Come see us...even if you'd prefer a quiet evening...because you won't get to ever again.