We became friends as we became a band. Our friendship evolved as

“We became friends as we became a band. Our friendship evolved as the band evolved. It had its ups and downs, but it was mostly ups for the four of us. We got along well almost all of the time. Hey! We liked each other and we still do.” — in these simple yet deeply heartfelt words, Dave Blood, bassist of the legendary punk band The Dead Milkmen, gives voice to a truth older than music itself — that true creation is born not from ambition alone, but from friendship. His reflection, though drawn from the world of rock and rebellion, speaks to the sacred bond that forms when souls labor side by side, not merely as collaborators, but as brothers bound by rhythm, laughter, and shared purpose.

To those who hear these words, they may sound casual — a fond recollection of youthful days spent on stage. Yet within them lies the ancient secret of harmony: that friendship, when joined with shared passion, becomes a force both creative and enduring. The band, in this telling, was not built upon fame or fortune, but upon the gradual weaving together of hearts. “We became friends as we became a band,” he says — not one before the other, but both at once, each shaping the other. In this, Blood reveals that friendship, like music, is not composed all at once; it is improvised, refined, lived.

The ancients would have understood this truth well. Aristotle, in his writings on philia — the Greek word for friendship — described it as the bond that unites people who strive toward a shared good. To work toward beauty, to labor toward art, and to do so with others who share your joy — this is friendship in its purest form. Dave Blood and his bandmates lived this out through their music: humor, chaos, and spirit bound them together in the same rhythm. Their friendship, as he describes, “evolved as the band evolved”, teaching us that human connection is not static. Like any melody, it grows, shifts, and deepens through the harmonies and dissonances of time.

Consider the story of Lennon and McCartney, whose friendship formed the heart of The Beatles. Together they wrote songs that transformed the world — yet their bond, like Dave Blood’s description, was not without its “ups and downs.” They quarreled, drifted apart, and yet, through it all, the love remained. In the end, McCartney would speak of Lennon not as a rival, but as a brother — the kind of love that cannot be erased by time or turmoil. This is the pattern of true companionship in art and life: though the path is uneven, the affection endures.

Dave Blood’s words carry a particular kind of humility. He does not claim perfection. “It had its ups and downs, but it was mostly ups,” he says, reminding us that friendship is not defined by the absence of conflict, but by the persistence of care. Just as a band must tune and retune to stay in harmony, so must friends continually adjust to one another. The real miracle is not in avoiding discord, but in returning, again and again, to understanding and laughter. His lighthearted tone — “Hey! We liked each other and we still do.” — speaks of gratitude, of joy unspoiled by bitterness, and of a bond that survived the storms of fame and the passage of years.

In a world where so many partnerships — musical, creative, or otherwise — are fractured by ego and envy, Blood’s reflection becomes a quiet form of heroism. He reminds us that the true legacy of a band is not its albums, but its affection. The music fades, but the friendship remains. It is this spirit of loyalty, of shared joy, that transforms mere cooperation into community, and shared endeavor into something sacred. When he says “we still do,” it is not just nostalgia — it is a triumph of love over time.

The lesson, then, is timeless: creation thrives in friendship, and friendship thrives in gratitude. Whether you are an artist, a craftsman, or a dreamer, seek not only companions for your work, but friends for your soul. Work with those who make you laugh, who lift your spirit, who forgive your faults and share your burdens. Cherish the “ups,” endure the “downs,” and let your bond evolve as your life does. For as Dave Blood reminds us, when all is done and the applause fades, what remains — the truest song of all — is the friendship that endures.

So remember this, dear listener: fame and success may pass like echoes in the air, but friendship is the melody that lingers long after the final chord has been struck. Treasure those who walk beside you in your creative journey, and say, while there is still time, “Hey — I like you, and I still do.” For in those words lives the music of the heart, the only song that never truly ends.