Brothers duo of Busman's Holiday calls Bloomington their home

Jumping around the stage at the Bishop Bar, Lewis Rogers, 22, bangs his head and strums his guitar. It’s the middle of the performance, and he’s getting into this song.
Addison Rogers, 26, also nods his head to the beat while playing the drums next to Lewis. Instead of a regular bass drum, he’s using a suitcase he converted into a drum by bolting a metal pedal to the back of it.

He stares at his younger brother as they perform “Alone,” a song Lewis was inspired to write after listening to Maurice Ravel’s classical piece “Rapsodie Espagnole.”

So just leave me alone, I will love you no more / Let this time that we spent grow old, slip and die on the floor / Half of what I say will never reach your heart

Together, the brothers are Busman’s Holiday, a band they’ve grown up with and grown into. They’ve matured through the music they started recording about 10 years ago, and they’re ready to make careers out of it. As they disappear into their next album, “A Long Goodbye,” they look to each other to find the harmony for success.

***

Lewis slowly pours water into a wine glass, dips his right middle finger in and rubs it around the rim, listening closely to the sound. The water level has to be just right to get it perfect. 

“It’s amazing to see how much water it takes to get this right,” Lewis says. “A spoonful is probably like half of a note.”

He’s recording sounds for the track “World” on the next album. Then the outside door swings open, and Lewis is interrupted. His mom is home.

Lewis and Addison live with their parents to save money, which means dealing with the occasional interruption.

His mom greets him, and they discuss who needs the car and when. For four family members, they only have two cars.

Realizing he’s busy recording, Doreen, 55, leaves.

“OK, I’ll shut the door,” she says, smiling as she slowly closes his bedroom door.

“Yeah, please do,” Lewis responds, slightly frustrated.

He swivels in his chair and gets back to work on the next part of the song, but his mom’s footsteps upstairs can still be heard.

***

When they’re not playing music, they’re still spending time together.

“I’ve always told them, you can trust your brother, but you don’t know about other people,” Doreen says. “They acknowledge each other’s strengths. I think they have a good harmony together.”

Sometimes they bicker; sometimes they laugh.

Before their show at the Bishop, they bickered.

Addison was still getting ready, and Lewis was trying to hurry him along.

“You know we have to be there at 4, right?” Lewis asked as he knocked on the
bathroom door.

“I know,” Addison said.

“OK. I just want you to know that because it’s getting close to 4,” Lewis said.

“I know,” Addison replied.

“So, you should hurry up,” Lewis said.

“I know...”

***

There’s no backup plan in place, but that doesn’t worry them. As long as they’re playing music, they’ll be happy.

“We were lucky not to grow up with parents or around people who really told us to make money,” Lewis said. “I’d much rather just play music, even if I had to work at McDonald’s. It would suck, but at least I would still have something to look forward to.”

They also aren’t concerned about moving out. They like living at home.

Doreen said there are days when she doesn’t even see them because they come and go as they please. She’s always encouraged them to stay at home because she wants them to use their money for the band, not for rent.

“I guess that’s the way for us to support them until something bigger happens,” Doreen said.

Lewis and Addison like the idea of staying in Bloomington and appreciate the support from their parents.They won’t rule out the idea of big cities like New York, but it doesn’t seem likely.

“Bloomington, I think, will always be our home,” Addison said.

***

About 30 minutes before they take the stage at the Bishop, they don’t have a plan for the show.

Lewis tells Addison they should make a set list.

“Should we, though?” Addison questions.

“Yeah, I like set lists,” Lewis responds.

“Alright, we can do that,” Addison says.

Lewis pulls out a red pocket notebook and pen but doesn’t write anything.

They do the show without a set list, just as usual. They prefer it this way so they can interact with each other and with the audience more.

Once they’re ready to go on stage, they have to think quickly.

“What are we playing?” Addison asks Lewis.

“Uh... ‘Child Actor,’”

Lewis says.

Lewis strums a few chords on his guitar and closes his eyes as he sings. Addison bangs his drums, but his eyes are glued on his younger brother.

Don’t they think of my future, this person that brought me into their home? / You think you’ve got nothing then all just seems to be gone

They finish the song singing together, with their eyes closed. Both of them are focused on the performance.

“The best shows, I’m thinking about nothing,” Lewis says. “I’m just completely in it.”

***

When Lewis was 11 years old, he got his first guitar and learned to play “Yesterday” by The Beatles. That’s when the obsession began, and he played every chance he got.

In middle school, he played with the high school band. As a junior in high school, he got into the lowest-level jazz ensemble at IU, and as a senior, he was in the highest-level ensemble. These ensembles, directed by David Baker, usually only accepted upperclassmen and graduate students, but Lewis was an exception.

“I was very intimidated by everyone,” he said. “I think it was the best thing that happened to me.”

After that, he didn’t see the point in going to college. He had already been on tour with Busman’s Holiday and had been writing songs since he was 12.

“I really got sick of school at a very young age,” Lewis said. “Music seemed like the best thing to do.”

Music consumes his life, whether he’s playing, listening, performing or recording.

Walking underneath a bridge near campus one morning, he stopped to listen to the water and the echoes.

He pulled out his harmonica, turned on his recorder and played for a few minutes. He was looking for unique sounds to put into new songs.

“If I could do that and get paid for it, that’d be the dream,” Lewis said.

***

Addison got a toy drum set at 2. He was playing real drums in elementary school and continued in high school when his passion for acting became the priority.

Lewis wanted someone to play with, though, and he knew his big brother could do it.

“He’d be annoyed, but he’d do it,” Lewis said.

When Lewis got a Tascam 788 recording system at 12, he and Addison, 16 at the time, spontaneously created an album. “Shirts and Skins” was the first record the brothers produced together as Rogers and Rogers, the original name of the band.

They started playing at the Farmers’ Market and on Kirkwood Avenue, and soon they were known throughout town.

Addison channeled his acting talent in their performances by interacting with the crowds. He realized it was easier to pursue music with Lewis than acting alone.

“It was also just a lot more clear as to what Lewis and I were doing as opposed to what I was doing with acting,” Addison said. “At some point, I realized you can sustain yourself as a musician here in Bloomington.”

The performing aspect of the band is the best part for him. He can connect with the audience between songs while he sings. From talking in a country accent to joking with Lewis to giving a shout-out to John Mellencamp, he assesses how the crowd is feeling.

During their show at the Bishop, he told the audience about his and his brother’s love for Mellencamp. They’ve camped out multiple times to see him in concert. The crowd laughed as he told the story, but Addison doubted their interest.

When he talked about it after the show, he laughed it off, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

***

The first time they went on tour, Lewis was only 16 years old. Their mom said she only let him go because she knew Addison, 21 at the time, would watch out for him.

“Addison has always had to look out for Lewis,” Doreen said. “They’re funny, but they’ve never been wild, crazy kids.”

Still, she bought them cell phones and talked to them almost every day.

But the tours were never anything special. The pay was usually low, and sometimes they’d play on the streets to make extra money.

At some places, there was hardly any crowd, as in Pennsylvania in 2008, when they played to a line of about 20 people at a haunted house.

After a few of these tours, Lewis lost his passion. He didn’t like the reality of a musician’s life — being on the tour bus everyday, making little money and not knowing if people actually cared about the music.

The next album was also a big concern for him. He had obsessed about it for two years at this point. It was some of his best work, but he didn’t think it mattered because it was only three songs.

A few months passed without Lewis being involved with music, but then things changed.

“In my head, there was a big shift,” Lewis said. “I realized I could use this obsession for good.”

The writing came more naturally, and he was excited again. He felt as though these were the songs that would make something big happen.

“I realized it would have been a waste if I would have stopped playing,” he said.

***

Albums are statements, and they want to send a certain message with their next album, currently titled “A Long Goodbye.” They agreed that this one is more mature than their previous albums.

“This record is kind of what we hoped to make our career out of,” Lewis said. “It’s either now or never.”

After four years of working on it, Lewis said a lot of his personal feelings were vested in this one. He went through a breakup during it and spent time worrying about the world and himself, which comes through in the songs, like “Alone” and “Hope To”.
Lewis, who writes most of their songs, gets inspiration from everywhere — from walking around town to listening to classical music, Beyoncé, The Beatles or Paul Simon. He writes about his personal experiences but makes it more dramatic. Almost all of it is fiction when he’s done because he doesn’t believe writing about himself is interesting.

For one of his favorite songs, he stole the idea from a poem he heard a friend talking about. “Hope To,” on Busman’s Holiday’s next album, is about a man who finally gets what he wants, but then it’s still not right.

A conscious state is constant, a waste of time if all you know is a conscious mind

“At that time, I was worried about what being a musician was,” Lewis said. “If I got to my final goal, would it really be what I wanted? And then I thought, ‘Wow, that’s an interesting idea.’”

***

They’ve played five songs, and the crowd is still cheering and dancing.

Lewis, trying to be discreet, whispers to Addison for some water, and Addison says into the microphone, “Sure, you can have some water.”

The crowd laughs.

“If you can’t tell, Lewis and I are friends,” Addison tells everyone, but Lewis finishes the statement.

“Of the brotherly kind,” he says smiling.

The last song of the show is from their next album.

You are you, so show me something that you do, show me something that is true

Toward the end of the song Lewis encourages the crowd to clap to the beat.

That’s not my problem.
That’s not my problem....

The clapping fades, and as they sing in harmony, Addison and Lewis glance at each other and back at the audience.

They close their eyes and lose themselves in the music as they finish the song.