▼ Music Flickerstick in 2022 (from left to right): Beau Wagner, Fatima Thomas, Brandin Lea and Rex James Ewing. Not pictured: Todd Harwell. F rom major label success to a slow burning out, the Flicker- stick story is one of the wildest in Dallas’ rock history, and one that’s entirely emblematic of the early aughts: It involves 9/11, Incubus, reality competition shows and the onset of social media. At the dawn of the millennium, Deep El- An Old Flame Rekindled I Flickerstick is back by popular demand. BY SCOTT TUCKER THE BEGINNING n 1994, singer Brandin Lea and guitarist Cory Kreig met at Southwest High School in Fort Worth and struck up a lum bred a thriving music scene that pro- duced a plethora of critically acclaimed bands such as Eisley, Black Tie Dynasty and Flickerstick. The five-piece Flickerstick experienced a blitzkrieg of success in the early 2000s after winning a reality TV show, signing a major label record contract and touring the U.S. a few times over. Although the group officially disbanded in 2009 after suffering the extremes of the music world’s bipolarity, their fans never forgot them and worked relentlessly to get the band reunited. After the better part of a decade, a local label, a fan-made Facebook group and a good friend named Beau made Flickerstick’s unlikely reunion a reality. After a 13-year hiatus, Flickerstick was fi- nally back on stage together, performing at The House of Blues. The Dallas darling rock band performed back-to-back shows on June 25 and 26. The reunion shows included all five members of the original lineup, plus two new additions to the band. Both nights sold out. friendship that became the foundation of Flickerstick. A freshman, Lea transferred to Southwest from a private school, and the boisterous Kreig was one of the first people he met. “Cory and I met in ninth grade,” Lea re- members. “This kid came in late to class and everyone knew him. He sat down next to me, and looked straight at me as me and says, ‘Who the fuck is this guy?’ ” The pair eventually bonded over their mutual love for alternative music. Lea had already started playing in a band, and Kreig liked to watch their rehearsals. Although Kreig later transferred to another school, the pair’s friendship remained after gradua- tion. Lea taught Kreig how to play guitar. “We were 18 about to turn 19 and on April 9th, 1994. Cory came to my house with a gui- tar in his hand, and that was the day we found out Kurt Cobain had died,” Lea says. “He said, ‘Hey man, can you teach me how to play this thing?’ He was oddly knowl- edgeable for not knowing how to play any- thing. He played guitar for all of three months and then in ‘95 found himself in the band at 19.” The pair started writing and rehearsing with Lea’s younger brother Fletcher on bass and with childhood friend Jeff Lowe on drums. The fledgling group first performed at open mic nights around Fort Worth and Denton, slowly edging their way toward Deep Ellum’s stages. “Our goal in life was to play Trees, not to finish college, buy a house, get married,” Lea says. “We just wanted to play Trees. A Wednesday night slot or anything; that’s all we wanted.” The young musicians were fans of North Texas bands Toadies and Tripping Daisy and regularly made the drive to Dallas to watch them perform. “Cory and I were watching Tripping Daisy play Trees one night, and Tim wasn’t like any frontman I had ever seen at the time,” Lea says. “That guy was on fire! When I saw Tim DeLaughter, I said, ‘Hey I can do that.” While these bands were racking up cash, selling out large clubs and signing record contracts, Flickerstick was in the midst of a journey that would repeat their local idols’ trajectory. “We got our first Dallas show a year later at the Orbit room, and then after the show a guy named Dominic approached us about his band playing Curtain Club,” Lea says. “I’d never met a guy like Dominic be- fore. The guy was an animal. He already lived in Deep Ellum and knew everybody. He declared himself Flickerstick’s new drummer.” Mike Brooks Dominic Weir lived in Deep Ellum and had his own practice studio/apartment he offered up for the group’s use. He saw some- thing in the band’s early songwriting and performance style and knew they were des- tined for success. “I had another band at the time, and when I saw Flickerstick they were awe- some,” Weir remembers of his first encoun- ter with the band. “I talked to them afterwards and said, ‘I need to be in this band.’ I brought them out to Deep Ellum, and we hit all the bars. I was the Deep Ellum terrorist at the time — try and hang with me and you’re gonna puke.” When Weir joined, the band started drawing bigger crowds. After a particu- larly packed Curtain Club show, the book- ing agent for Trees reached out to Flickerstick to open for Grand Street Cry- ers, fulfilling Lea and Kreig’s shared early dream. Soon after, guitarist Rex Ewing, also known as “El Dangeroso” because of his punk rock-inspired stage antics, joined the roster, jolting Flickerstick into headlining shows all across North Texas. “Cory and I worked together, and I had been out of bands at that point for about six years,” Ewing says. “When I heard them, I was like, man, I need to weasel my way into this. Luckily, they were lazy about trying people out. Also, Brandin wanted to just be a frontman.” >> p20 19 19 dallasobserver.com dallasobserver.com | CONTENTS | UNFAIR PARK | SCHUTZE | FEATURE | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | MOVIES | DISH | MUSIC | CLASSIFIED | CLASSIFIED | MUSIC | DISH | CULTURE | UNFAIR PARK | CONTENTS DALLAS OBSERVER DALLAS OBSERVER MONTH XX–MONTH XX, 2014 JULY 14–20, 2022
