Jeremy Freer, it must have been tough for you to lead a band that’s named after yourself. Sure, it might be easy to replace a drummer or a guitarist. Even easier to replace a bassist. Unfortunately, you reached a point where you could no longer tolerate yourself. Your arrogance, your cattiness, your penchant for starting drama, you just couldn’t take any more of your own shit. After a long and exhaustive search, you just couldn’t find anyone as awesome as yourself to take your place, so you just ended the band. I sure hope you taught yourself an important lesson about interpersonal dynamics.
You seem to be mellowing with age, Jeremy. Back in the day you really knew how to feud with the other scenesters. When Ben Blackwell talked shit about your band on his blog, you chose not to sucker punch him at the Magic Stick. That would’ve have been so derivative. So instead, you kissed him on the mouth. It was a brilliant tactical move, because as everyone knows, Ben Blackwell hates nothing more than cooties.
Jeremy Freer, for all these reasons and more, you are Broke in Detroit’s Scenester Douchetard of the Week.