No. 070 - The Menzingers’ “Gates” changed my life
A prescient shower thought and a fateful phone call — how James Barrett's teenage dream came true
This Song Changed My Life is an independent music publication featuring essays from people all around the world about the songs that mean the most to them. Created (and illustrated) by Grace Lilly.
Enjoying the series? Support here to keep the good stuff coming 😊
• 6 min read •
January 2012, I was on the bus on my way to another day of 8th grade.
I often think about how silly it was to be such a grouch during my younger years, but honestly I can name thousands of things I’d rather do than be in middle school again. To quote my friend Peter, “Middle school is just a bunch of kids finding out at different times that they need to wear deodorant.”
So this day was probably filled with smelly kids just like any other; however, this morning offered a little treat: the Menzingers just put out a new single called “Gates” off of their soon-to-be-released album On the Impossible Past. I was already enamored of the band from seeing them play in Scranton over the years, but something in me changed the day I heard “Gates.”
I was still riding high from their first Northeastern Pennsylvania (NEPA) Holiday Show at the Keyser Valley Community Center a few weeks prior. There was always a palpable energy when the Menzingers were in town (and there still is). Everyone who’s anyone would be at their shows, all adrenaline and sweaty hugs, belting along with Scranton’s best. It’s a feeling I have come to know so well. The NEPA Holiday Show, spearheaded by the Menzingers and Tigers Jaw, another locally-bred punk band, became a yearly staple in our community. You had to be there to witness the camaraderie that came with their annual hometown return.
Growing up in NEPA, you become accustomed to frigid winters with white skies that seem like they will never clear again. The stretch from January through April feels like a year in itself, unless you’re big on skiing, which I never was.
I spent most of that winter at Duffy’s Coffee House, a new spot where I would meet some of the most beautiful people in my life. I remember so many nights walking home from Duffy’s listening to On the Impossible Past, feeling so connected to songs that were written about things I would not experience for years to come. It did not matter. For the first time in my life, I felt understood. I had an urge to grow up and experience the world, yet I did not understand how the experiences I was going through at the time would change me forever.
Around that time I met Bill Fitzgerald, one of my closest friends growing up and to this day. He brought me to my first concert at the Electric Factory in Philadelphia to see Rise Against, Alkaline Trio, Thrice and the Gaslight Anthem in 2008. He also brought me to my first Menzingers show at The Vintage Theater in Scranton in the spring of 2009. They had a shirt with some zombie-like creature throwing up into someone’s mouth at the merch table and I bought it immediately. The Vintage Theater would go on to have three locations, all of which no longer exist today. The space I saw the Menzingers at in ‘09 was no bigger than a living room. Now they sell out shows across the world. A lot changes in a decade.
All my life I have wanted to be in a band and to play my songs to anyone who would listen, but growing up during one of the worst recessions Scranton has ever endured meant expecting your dreams to be shot down. Venues were closing and spirits were crumbling. It became challenging to have faith that you could make it in the music industry unless you left Scranton. This discouraged me from writing music because I knew I was stuck here until I graduated high school.
I had one goal in my life, but it seemed like at every turn another venue would close. The Vintage Theater, Eleanor Rigby’s, Cafe Metro, New Visions, Redwood Art Space, The Other Side — all of them closed. All that was left was Duffy’s Coffee House.
Nevertheless, I spent the ensuing years playing shows as often as possible, writing music and waiting for my next big moment to come. I would attend the Holiday Show annually and daydream about what it would feel like to be on that stage. I would find my friend Molly or Eóin in the crowd and scream the words to “Gates.” I’d have a beautiful night. But there was always something missing.
Flash forward to the morning of the 2017 Holiday Show.
I was twenty years old. The excitement was still there, the adrenaline still palpable, and everyone I loved was going to the show. Yet I was still yearning for something more. It seemed clear that my moment would have to wait another year, so I started getting ready for the day. I remember standing in the shower thinking, “Maybe some miracle will happen and I’ll get my chance.” When I got out, I saw that I had a voicemail from a number that wasn’t in my contacts.
To my surprise, it was Tom May of the Menzingers calling to ask if I would open the show because Three Man Cannon, one of Scranton’s greatest rock bands, had to drop from the bill unexpectedly — my cousin, who was married to a member of Three Man, was under the weather. She would learn later that night that she was pregnant with her first child. Every time I see her now, I am reminded that if it was not for her beautiful baby, my life may have panned out a lot differently.
It was 1:00 p.m. and I would be opening the biggest show of my life in five hours; the show I’d dreamt about since I was fourteen.
I will always remember this as one of the most beautiful moments of my life.
I was nervous but I knew I was ready. It was all I could ever want. It felt like the final step for me back then. To finally be on that stage — with nearly everyone I’d ever met smiling at me in the crowd — was incredibly heartwarming. After my set I watched the Menzingers play “Gates” once again, only this time from stage right. It was one of those moments in life where you feel like you are exactly where you’re supposed to be. Like every moment led to this one. Every walk home from Duffy’s, every sneaky cigarette shared with Molly in her garage, every time someone told me to go to college or leave Scranton to have any chance of making it.
I ended up playing this show two more times over the next several years, each time just as excited as the first.
It’s beautiful how a song can change your life forever. It’s even more beautiful when it's written by a band from your hometown. I think for a lot of people the Menzingers resembled the light at the end of the tunnel. For some, finding that light meant leaving Scranton. For others, it meant trying to resurrect it. I think both are entirely valid.
I’ve come to accept the fact that people come and go throughout our lives. When I listen to the Menzingers I think of the people I grew up with. Most of these people have moved on to other places, but my memories of them are still strong. It is ironic how all I ever wanted as a kid was to get out and experience the world, but now all I want is just one more moment with everyone in the same room again.
In “Gates,” Greg Barnett sings, “You get old enough to know that happiness is just a moment.”
I am old enough now to know that some of the happiest moments of my life happened because of a band from Scranton, Pennsylvania. ◆
Categories
Friendship • Family • Coming of Age • Romance • Grief • Spirituality & Religion • Personal Development
Recommended
Top 10 • Grace's Favorites • Secret
About James
James Barrett is a songwriter from Scranton, Pennsylvania. He currently fronts his own six-person live band and is the co-founder of Good Things Are Happening Music and Arts Festival in Scranton every summer. James is currently working on his third LP and plans to have new music out in 2025.
Instagram @jamesbarrettpa
⭐ Recommended by
Josh Ramos (No. 004)
Every TSCML writer is asked to recommend a future contributor, creating a never-ending, underlying web of interconnectivity 🕸️
Secret Playlist No. 12 ∙ Paid 🔒
Ultimate Christmas Playlist 🎄
The best songs for a holly jolly time. Listen→
If you enjoyed this post, “like” it & leave a comment 💛
An average concert ticket costs $122.84 🎟️
An annual subscription to This Song Changed My Life costs less than half of that ($50 to be exact).
Become a paid subscriber
Chipping in helps ensure the continued existence of TSCML — plus you’ll instantly unlock 27 secret, paid-only posts (and counting).
People love it
What paid subscribers are saying
“I love this series! Want to pitch in so you can keep up the high quality content”
“Thank you for everything!”
“I believe watching your work develop will by itself change my life”
If you like this publication and want to learn more about me and my other projects, check out my personal newsletter, Weirdly Good <3
What song changed your life?
You, yes you! If you’d like to participate in This Song Changed My Life, just fill out this simple form for consideration. I’m always looking to hear people’s stories.
Explore
As Karabo Lediga's childhood home fades away, the radio sends a message of hope and comfort — No. 069 - Incognito’s “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing” changed my life
From riding shotgun with her dad to road trips with friends, Laura Frizzell talks big love, good sadness, and treasuring life's great adventures and little beauties — No. 068 - Bob Seger’s “Night Moves” changed my life