Trash Juice

You ever wonder what it’s like backstage at a Trash Juice show? Spoiler: it ain’t all s*x, drugs, and fireballs. (Okay, sometimes it’s fireballs.)

Backstage is a sacred ritual space. Reed’s hunched over his synth like he’s talking to ghosts. Austin’s trying to restring his guitar for the third time because “this one just doesn’t feel right.” Baxter’s usually shirtless, stretching like a drunk yoga instructor or arguing with security about bringing in “the lizard.” And someone—someone—is always missing their pants. We won’t name names.

We’ve got a checklist:
• 1 bottle of bourbon (mostly gone before soundcheck)
• 3 packs of gum (no one chews it)
• A scented candle we pretend wards off bad vibes (but actually just covers up feet smell)
• The sacred Trash Juice playlist (consisting mostly of our own songs, fight us)

There’s also a quiet moment where we all kind of sit there. No one talks. Just breathing. Thinking about the crowd. That’s the best part. That electric silence before the chaos.

Then the lights dim, and we go out and lose our minds for you.

🖤 Stay juicy, freaks.
— Tyler

Another wild night in the books! The chaos, the music, the endless drinks—it all blurs together in the best way possible. This rockstar lifestyle is definitely taking its toll, but hey, that’s the price of living on the edge. Late nights, loud crowds, and enough stories to last a lifetime. Guess the only thing left to do now is chug some water, nurse the battle scars, and get ready to do it all over again. No rest for the wicked!