The Pickpockets were formed in late 2001 by a guy named Victor Villafana. Victor was a drummer, and he was a big fan of Slayer. That pretty much explains why he's not our drummer anymore. Still, we're fair and give Victor his due, even if he did royally fuck us over later.

Victor knew Kiri, and Kiri knew Brian (they were college pals). The original rhythm guitar player was John "Rock 'n' Roll Johnny" Kiefner. He was a friend of Victor's, and we used to rehearse in his attic. Allen was the only total stranger. He responded to an ad in the Reader placed by Victor and Kiri.

The as-yet-unnamed band started out playing covers: Clash, Cure, J.A.M.C., New Order, Misfits, Luna, Liz Phair, Devo, Pixies, blah, blah blah. For awhile in early 2002, a friend of Allen's named James Ochoa played rhythm guitar, but that didn't work out, so James was eventually . . . um . . . well, told that it wasn't working out. This is the hardest thing we've ever done as a band, and we still feel bad about it, though that's probably little consolation to James. James is a cool guy, though, and he was gracious enough to come to one of our gigs later. We hope everyone we eventually piss off is as gentlemanly, unless that person is a woman, in which case we hope she is lady-like, despite the fact that that sounds kinda weird and sexist.

We picked a name. You think its easy, but its not. We went through 119 suggestions. At some point, we dabbed a toe in the water of original material, courtesy of Brian and Allen. By this time, we were rehearsing in Victor's living room, what with Johnny falling victim to gentrification. Said living room was full of cat hair, books about serial killers and musical equipment acquired in unconventional ways.

Victor quit in early 2003. It was a long time coming, and it cost us a lot of momentum.

Jack came aboard in the spring of 2003, thanks again to the Reader. We liked Jack because he's a great drummer and a cool guy and he knows how to count (beats, that is - - the rest of us know how to count normal things, like change, and beers left in the twelve pack, and minutes until quitting time at work). By this time, we were rehearsing on the far Northwest Side at Cool Metro Studios. If you're near Devon and I-90, check it out.

We played our first gig on July 3, 2003 at the Mutiny. We played seven originals and three covers. We made $17.00.

Johnny left right after the gig. It was because of a woman. He e-mails us every Thanksgiving to thank us for being so fucking cool. Anyway, the next rhythm guitarist was Ben Bilow. He mysteriously quit after three weeks. He's playing drums in another band now. Oh yeah, and now we were at our current rehearsal space, whose location is a secret.

The NEXT rhythm guitarist was Chris Scanlon. Chris played another Mutiny gig with us on April 14, 2004. We didn't earn anything that time. Chris played the proverbial mean guitar (and once toured with George Clinton), but he wasn't terribly reliable and after the gig, he disappeared. Seriously. We worried that he was dead. He eventually got back in touch with us (it was something like 3 months later), but by then we'd decided to soldier on as a four piece. He no doubt has gone on to greater things with his emo band, whatever it was called. No hard feelings towards Chris.

Our third gig was at Phyliss' Musical Inn. That was in May of 2004. It was the least well-attended gig ever, and some drunk old Mexican guy kept trying to talk to/hug Allen.

In the summer of 2004, we got some cash together and recorded a demo. It was engineered by Chris Carr, who used to be in a band called the Honor System. Chris was really patient and down to earth. He even let Brian play a sweet Telecaster and a Les Paul that was older than any one of us. Kiri liked his tattoos. Kiri really liked his tattoos. The studio didn't have a name, but we can put you in touch with Chris if you want. We eventually decided to call the product of this recording effort the No Heart, No Love EP. You can buy it.

We were part of the Elbo Room's 12 Bands in a 120 Minutes in August of 2004. In September, we played at Gunther Murphy's. We played after a truly eye-opening set by Firecrotch (pantomimed girl-on-girl sodomy is an all-too-rare component of concerts).

On February 10, 2005, we played Gunther Murphy's again. We headlined this time, and Drawl played some nice '50's inspired country rock to kick things off. On April 6th, 2005, we played The Bottom Lounge with Raised on Zenith.

We took some time off in the summer of 2005 for reasons we don't remember, but it wasn't anything serious. We played a show at Bar Vertigo with Manatella on November 11, 2005. Manatella is way cool. The we played at Wise Fools Pub with Medicine Hat and Trevorside, courtesy of goajngle. Next up was a gig at the (in)famous Big Horse Lounge with Tom Tom Petty, Nahuales Underground, and Manatella. A more diverse bill you could not imagine, and great fun was had by all. Except Allen. As usual.

Then in March, 2006 it was time for another drastic change. Since we didn't have a new guitarist to alienate, our rehearsal space decided to quit. Yep, in another classic case of gentification killing rock 'n' roll (a la the closing of Lounge Ax) our longtime rehearsal space/shithole was going condo. It was freezing in the winter and boiling in the summer. It had one functional electrical outlet, and a vestigial phone system mounted to the wall, which we used to create setlists on using homemade magnetic poetry-style song titles. Inane graffti on the walls from the previous tenants. The toilet rivaled The Worst Toilet in Scotland from Trainspotting. Given time, the carpet would have evolved into a sentient being. But it was cheap, and for three years it was our little rock 'n roll sanctuary. We'll miss it in the way you miss your first garden efficiency, as we moved on to next place.

In the Fall of 2006, Jack decided it was time to take control of his budding career as an elementary school teacher by moving to Florida. See, the thing about Florida is that their education system is a little screwy and they need teachers bad. So Jack finished up his run with the Pickpockets by heading into the studio with us to record one new song (Glimmerless), then off to the bright sunset of Florida. If you see him, remind him that he owes for back-rent. As luck would have it, Manatella were struck with the same Florida-attrition as one of their guitarists had moved to the Sunshine State for the very same reason. Which is where we got the idea of asking their drummer, Shelly Uehara, to join. She said yes. Kiri cried.

We moved rehearsal spaces again in summer of 2007, because the other place SUCKED. Shelly got preggers, and we had to sit tight while the Glimmer Twins were growing in her uterus. Uterus is a funny word.

And so here we are. We are writing new material. We're going to try recording our next EP ourselves in our practice space. Kiri's hair is two-toned. Allen barely knows how to use a computer. Shelly needs to check e-mail more often. Brian's desire for quality tone is misunderstood by his band mates. Rock on (or, "indie-pop on," more accurately).