The day has come to pull down that curtain down. Sal and Jer sat down with Brian and I about a week ago and informed us that they are leaving Envy on the Coast. They explained that they are no longer happy being a part of this, and there was nothing Brian and I could do or say to change that. Because Envy on the Coast was founded upon the musical and personal relationships between the four of us, Brian and I have decided that we would rather move forward rather than finding musicians to replace Sal and Jer.

I can’t say I’m all that shocked by this, nor am I upset. At some point in your life, you have to stop saying, “But I never expected this to happen to me!?” For me, that day came when my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Fortunately, after she beat it, I took with me the knowledge that anything and everything can and will happen to you…and you should welcome those hurdles because they will make you stronger. At the end of the day, some marriages fail, some people win the lottery, and some people get struck by lightening. You can trust someone with every ounce of yourself, but a lot of men are the center of their own universe, and that’s something I’ve learned to cope with. I shouldn’t have said I wasn’t upset. There are aspects of this whole situation that have upset me, but there’s no use in dwelling on that when we have so much to be proud of.

When we started this band, we had no idea what we were doing, nor what we wanted to accomplish. Like most bands, we hopped in a van and vowed to stick together and figure it out along the way. In a very short time frame, we decided we wanted to preserve integrity, credibility, and put our art at the forefront above all else. We knew turning down certain opportunities would sometimes leave us broke and maybe regretful, for some of us, but we knew it wasn’t within our capability to compromise. Sure, we did a lot of things we were apprehensive about at first, but on ‘Lowcountry’, our most recent effort, I can proudly say we made something that was 100% us. We played ball for a few years, but not on that record; we did what we wanted. We wrote the songs we wanted to write, the way wanted to write them. We shot the video we wanted with the creative individuals who we entrusted to do it with. We did it all our way. I don’t care how many copies it sold, because I’ve got a lot of acquaintances who have sold a shit-ton more records than I may ever sell, but they don’t sleep as well as I do at night.

I’ve toured with the flavors of the week. I’ve watched teenagers place “band dudes” up on pedestals, not for the music they make, but for the aura they omit. I’ve seen the looks in our fans eyes. I know that this little band meant something to you. I know that all of our sacrifice, all of our struggle, and all of our hard work was worth it. I know that we didn’t have to tweet what the fuck we were doing every hour of the day in order to stay connected with our fans. They stayed connected to us through our music, regardless of where we were or what we were doing. You understood. You got it.

Brian and I decided a long time ago that we wanted to be artists. That can mean a lot of things, but to us it just means we want to keep making art and music together. And that’s what we plan on doing. I doubt anyone’s mentally ready to swallow “what’s next” yet, so we’ll just leave it at that for now. In the coming weeks, we’ll be announcing our three final shows and together, we will celebrate the the death of something beautiful. Thank you all for being a part of this.