Shows to silence: a great display of patience

Editor-in-Chief and Blanket Approval drummer/singer Joey Hadden on what it’s like to transition from gigging on repeat to writing an album.

Whatever you do, it changes. 

It’s been just over two years since Jack, Max, Rah, and I started Blanket Approval.

Photo by Tyler Bertram

The four of us are a creative force. We all have different roots, but through friendship, we’ve become vulnerable with each other.

We share our feelings, turn them into jams, and play for whoever will listen.

Blanket Approval brings an exciting wave of energy to live sets.

From our hometown of New York to the greater Northeast region, I have cathartic experiences behind a kit and in front of a crowd.

Nine singles and 31 shows later, here we are. And it’s quiet. 

It’s been four months since our last gig — my last release of tension from life’s everyday challenges. I long to play again in venues from uncharted to familiar. I miss the short-term gratification of frequent performances. I miss hitting hard and playing loud.

And let’s be real — I miss the attention. I miss feeling powerful in an otherwise intimidating room. I miss when strangers and friends rushed up to me as I hopped out of the spotlight, telling me I brought them joy in one way or another.

I miss the moments I can’t describe. 

Bigger things are coming

The show itch is ever present. 

But by the end of 2023, I felt burned out from playing the same songs. Performing multiple times a month wasn’t leaving us enough room to write. 

So pressing pause on the workflow we knew to felt necessary.

Ultimately, it’s time for us to grow on our own. To figure out who Blanket Approval is when no one is watching and discover what comes next.

For the last four months, we haven’t been stagnant. Without distractions or external deadlines, we are stretching. We’re learning new things about each other, and we are embracing our biggest endeavor to date.

Our budding fan base will soon be wrapped in a fresh album inspired by our raw experiences. 

On a personal level, the transition is teaching me patience.

I’m learning to focus on this moment rather than dwelling on those that have passed.

I’m realizing that songwriting fills holes in my heart that performing doesn’t.

And I trust that this quiet grind will lead to new feelings and experiences that are worth the wait.

For now, I’ll be in the Blankie Fort — writing and listening — with my three best friends.

Stay tuned.