Long Live The Scratches: A Columbus Punk Farewell at Rumba Café

Some bands burn bright. The Scratches built a fire that kept this city warm.

We first saw them in 2019, opening for Masked Intruder at Woodlands Tavern. We weren’t critics yet. We weren’t curators or documentarians. Bands in the Bus hadn’t even crossed our minds. We were just two people standing in the back of the room, freshly initiated into the Columbus punk scene, soaking in everything we could.

And The Scratches? They imprinted on us. Immediate. Emotional. Unmistakable. They were loud, melodic, self-assured. Three vocalists trading harmonies. Darby’s basslines bending rhythm into melody. Songs that felt like a shared secret. They didn’t need to convince us. They just played — and that was enough.

But when Bands in the Bus officially launched in November 2021, we didn’t write about them. Not at first. Not for a long time. And that’s something we think about a lot.

There were bands we felt compelled to defend — underdogs with buzz, or frontmen drowning in backlash, or drummers overlooked by their louder counterparts. Lustkill, for instance, was the first “hottest band in the bus.” Not because they were the tightest or most polished, but because they burned white-hot at the right time. Joey wasn’t the best vocalist or guitarist, but he was the most coveted — and in the Columbus scene, that carried weight.

But The Scratches? They never needed defending. They simply were.

So we stayed silent. And now, as they take their final bow, we realize that silence was both reverent and a mistake.

No Frontperson, No Weak Link

The Scratches weren’t like the other bands in Columbus. Where most groups were built around a singular personality — a frontperson, a lightning rod — The Scratches shared everything.

Three voices. Three perspectives. No one dominating the mic. B. Darby. Jim. It was a triangle, not a line.

Their harmonies didn’t feel like decoration — they felt like the band itself. When they sang together, they weren’t layering. They were communicating. Every song was a conversation between three people who knew how to leave space for one another.

And then there was Darby.

It’s impossible to overstate what he did with a bass guitar. He didn’t just hold the rhythm — he redirected it. Watching him play was like watching someone break a rule you didn’t even know existed. Technical without showing off. Melodic without ego. The kind of player who made drummers sweat — and lucky for all of us, they found Austin in 2023. A drummer who didn’t just match Darby — he mirrored him. Their sync was surgical. Emotional. Alive.

B’s vocals brought emotional sharpness — clear, powerful, and always right where the song needed to land. Jim’s harmonies added warmth and weight, grounding even the most chaotic choruses. Together, the three voices created something few bands even attempt: a conversation.

The Shows That Changed Us

We’ve seen The Scratches more times than we can count — at Big Room Bar (RIP), Ruby Tuesday, The Stoop (RIP), Classic’s, Rumba Café, and sweaty DIY shows that blurred into beautiful chaos. But they were never a band that chased the spotlight. They never had to.

Even at their most “average,” The Scratches could headline any stage in Columbus. At their best, they turned rooms into shared memories. Their live shows were raw but never reckless, emotional but never messy. They were one of the only bands in the local scene that could blow you away and still leave space for everyone else to shine.

We remember the Huge Euge Holiday Show show at Big Room Bar — one of their tightest, cleanest, most emotionally electric sets. And we’ll never forget the post-wedding afterparty at the Stoop, where half the crowd stormed the stage mid-song and it felt less like a concert and more like a community reclamation.

They played like they knew their fans. Because they did.

May 24, 2025 — The Final Chapter (and Opening Verse)

When The Scratches announced their final show at Rumba Café, we knew it would be special. But we didn’t know it would feel like church.

The room was packed — a sweaty, buzzing reunion of scene kids, pit moms, old friends, and future legends. Columbus showed up for them the way they always showed up for us.

The Out opened the night with gritty, foundational punk energy — a reminder of where we’ve been. Prime Directive followed with their tightest set yet, driven by the power of new bassist Matt Bentley, who brought the kind of raw cool that made it feel like a band levelling up in real time.

They even brought out Matt from The Howling Commandos for a raging rendition of “Planet.” Then came Huge Euge — a punk absurdist, a clown with a mic, backed by AJB and Ax, making us laugh so hard it hurt. “Hummus on a Cracker” was both ridiculous and genuinely great.

And then: The Scratches.

They hit the stage like a tidal wave. “FOMO,” “Calling Off,” “Sorry (Not Sorry),” “Inside Out” — each song hit harder knowing it might be the last time we heard it live. Austin crushed the intricate drums. B’s voice soared. Darby’s basslines snaked through the melody like muscle memory. Jim smiled through tears, or maybe we imagined that. Either way, we felt it.

For their final song, they brought up Huge Euge and members of The Out for a chaotic, cathartic run-through of “The Bend.” The stage looked like the city — stitched together in riffs and sweat.

But they weren’t done.

Their encore? A cover of Blink-182’s “Dammit,” in a minor key nonetheless— darker, moodier, and more reflective. The Scratches didn’t just cover it. They answered it. The original was about youth’s first heartbreak. The Scratches played it like a band that had outlived that, loved harder, and still felt the sting. It was perfect.

Beyond the Band

What made The Scratches exceptional wasn’t just the music. It was the ethics. The presence. The way they held space — for each other, for their fans, for the scene.

They never brought drama to the stage. No meltdowns. No backbiting. No showboating. Just music, community, and respect. In a scene that sometimes collapses under its own ego, they built something sustainable.

Their families came to shows. Their friends cheered from the pit. And even in their silence, they were saying something most bands never learn to say out loud: you matter here.

Where They Go Next

This farewell wasn’t an ending — it was a branching point.

Jimmy is now focused on family, where his heart has always shone brightest.

Darby and Austin are making new music with new bands. And B is stepping into a new project as a front person only — no guitar, just voice.

We’re expecting something deeply experimental and personal. But we know it’ll still carry the DNA of The Scratches. Because B doesn’t just sing.

They deliver.

We’ve seen these artists grow into their final form before our eyes and now we get to watch them grow into something new.

Long Live The Scratches

We regret not writing about them sooner. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe they weren’t a “moment” — they were a presence.

Some bands come to shake things up.

The Scratches came to stay. And we’re better for it.

As they sang in their most iconic song: "Better days are just around the bend…"

We’re ready.

Long live The Scratches.

And until next time, stay safe in the pit.