Caffeind, Garthstock (Ceresco, NE, 1994)

Here’s Caffeind performing at Garthstock, a music festival held in a barn at Garth Johnston's family farm. Garth owned and operated Zero Street Records in downtown Lincoln. (1994)

In the fall of 1992, with my tail between my legs, I moved to Lincoln, Nebraska. I was “restarting” college at the University of Nebraska after flunking out my freshman year at USC and maxing out my credit card on shows and CDs. My parents still owned a house in the suburbs of Omaha. I could cut the purse strings and go it alone in L.A., or I could take classes at UNL with cheap in-state tuition.

At the time it felt like being banished to Siberia. I had no idea it would introduce me to people I still call my best friends 30 years later. In L.A., music was big-time—think of your “local” bands being Porno for Pyros or Red Hot Chili Peppers. In Lincoln, the local bands were the dudes who worked at the coffee shop or sat next to you in art history.

At that time, there were very few music venues in Nebraska. Those that did exist were often bars that didn’t allow minors and would very rarely book an interesting indie band. Shows were pushed to coffee houses, rentals, and my favorite format of all time: the house show.

Being a college town, it was easy and cheap to rent four-, five-, and six-bedroom houses and move in with your friends, or better yet, your band. “Venues” became known by their addresses or band names— the 14th and B House, the Brick House, W Street House, etc. There were no VIP sections, backstage, or stages at all. The band set up on the floor in the corner. Best seat in the house every show, every time. Stepping into those spaces as a beginning black-andwhite photography student with a camera around my neck gave me the only ticket I ever needed.

Within a couple years, I had become pretty well-steeped in the Lincoln and Omaha scenes. In particular, I had fallen in with my friend Oli. Oli had spent the last spring practicing in a dorm with his new band Polecat. One afternoon I ran into him in the Student Union, and he’s selling a stack of cassettes. They had recorded it with this weird kid they met in the dorms, Mike Mogis (later a permanent member of Bright Eyes), and his brother AJ. It was the second release by a cassette label started by Ted Stevens and his friend Justin Oberst. They had just released a cassette by Justin’s 12-year-old brother, Conor.

This became my crew, a blossoming group of musicians known around Lincoln as the “Saddle Creekers,” named after a road winding through midtown Omaha. Little did we know, it was just the beginning.

Conor, Chilled to the Bone, McVoy House (Omaha, NE, 1995)

If you know Conor Oberst, you know he is funny as shit and dark about it. Even at 14, this kid knew how to deliver a statement with full sincerity and deadpan, disarming humor. And to this day he’s still chill as fuck. Love you, Conor.

Conor, Kilgore’s Café (Omaha, NE, 1995)

Kilgore’s was an all-ages coffee shop in Omaha. The folk legend Simon Joyner was a fixture at Kilgore’s, looked upon by us as a sort of elder statesman. Legend has it that he is the one who encouraged Conor to perform at such a tender age. I love to point out the very enthusiastic Todd Fink (of the Faint) in the lower lefthand corner.

Roger and Conor, Nikko’s Cafe (Oakland, CA, 1999)

In '97, I moved into a warehouse in Oakland to go to grad school. It became a great place to crash when my Nebraska friends started to forge their way onto the tour circuit. This was taken at breakfast in Fruitvale, a few blocks away from the warehouse; Roger and Conor were on Bright Eyes’ first tour in a Honda Civic. Notice Conor’s Cursive shirt—at that time, the Saddle creek bands were all for one, and one for all.

Cursive, Whoop Ass! Studios (Lincoln, NE, 1996)

Mike Mogis (later of Bright Eyes) and his brother AJ did a lot to define the sound in the burgeoning scene through their band Lullaby for the Working Class and the work they were doing at Whoop Ass! Studios (located in a splitlevel basement in Lincoln). I took this photo of Cursive as an early attempt at a “serious” band photo.

Todd Fink (The Faint, Commander Venus, Closeness, Cocoon), Robb Nansel (Commander Venus, owner of Saddle Creek Records), Conor Oberst, and Ben Armstrong (Head of Femur, Commander Venus)

Commander Venus (Omaha, NE, 1997)

Commander Venus were a supergroup before we even knew it: Fronted by Conor Oberst and Tim Kasher, the band also featured Todd Fink and Matt Bowen of the Faint, Ben Armstrong of Head of Femur, and Robb Nansel, executive producer of Saddle Creek. This is a “promo” shot of the band taken in the driveway of Conor’s parents’ house as they were set to depart on their first tour out west. The ice cream truck was a stroke of luck.

“Dottie,” 1-29 Missouri (1996)

“Dottie” was a van owned by Boz Hicks, the drummer from Polecat. Even though it was technically Polecat’s van, it was often borrowed—Commander Venus took it on their first tour. Dottie is pictured here on the way to Kansas City to see Archers of Loaf.

Joel and Matt, Caffeind (Lincoln, NE, 1994)

Joel and Matt were chaos agents just trying to make cool shit happen! Here they are pictured offering horn support for Caffeind. They were both very active in promoting shows, and were often the key ingredients to any shenanigans that would follow.

Heath Preheim, Filter (Lincoln, NE, 1994)

Heath was one of the scariest badasses I had ever met—he drove a matte black van with flames on the side, and raged on the bass. At the time this was taken, I was terrified of and fascinated by him. He told me a few years ago he always thought I was a pussy until I “upper-decked” a party in San Francisco in 2003. I had known him for 10 years.

Head of Femur (Chicago, IL, 2002) the

By the early 2000s, a group of us had moved to Chicago into a big house in Logan Square called the Mini-Mansion. Head of Femur emerged from this house, a group of musicians from the Lincoln scene now relocated to Chicago. This was taken in the Mini-Mansion’s “hot water pool” (a kiddie pool in the backyard filled with hot water from the basement sink), shortly before Head of Femur would depart on a tour opening for Bright Eyes.

Conor & Robb, Commander Venus’ first tour (1997)

I was set to start grad school in Oakland in 1997, so I hitched a ride with Commander Venus on their first tour. Saddle Creek Records owner Robb Nansel is behind the wheel, alongside Conor, who was on summer break from high school. When I look at this photo, I think about how innocent we were of what was to come—Robb and Conor charging ahead into their futures, me sitting shotgun with the best seat in the house (van).

Neely (Grand Island, NE, 1996)

A recurring figure and a dear friend to us all, Neely was a bit shy in her contributions to the scene. She is heard on both of the first two Bright Eyes records, and would become a founding member of Tilly and the Wall. As one of my best friends, she is one of my favorite people to photograph and appeared often in images and album art, such as the cover of Commander Venus’ Uneventful Vacation and Lullaby for the Working Class’ Blanket Warm.

Polecat (Lincoln, NE, 1994)

These images were outtakes from a photo shoot I did for Polecat in January of 1994. Boz thought of the idea of lying naked in the snow...although he did lay a towel down.

Commander Venus, Gregory House (Lincoln, NE, 1996)

Commander Venus were a very genuine attempt at indie guitar rock and had a revolving lineup of players. At the time, bands would form and break up within a few days of each other. There was a lot of crosspollination, just trying new things and seeing what stuck. Ted was one of Conor’s biggest advocates in the beginning, and though I don’t think they have ever been in a band together, Ted would guestvocal on a few Commander Venus songs here and there.