[
{
"name": "Related Stories / Support Us Combo",
"component": "11171270",
"insertPoint": "4",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "6"
},{
"name": "Air - Leaderboard - Inline Content",
"component": "13002605",
"insertPoint": "2/3",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "7"
},{
"name": "R1 - Beta - Mobile Only",
"component": "12306405",
"insertPoint": "8",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "8"
},{
"name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size 2",
"component": "11034510",
"insertPoint": "12",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "12"
},{
"name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size 2",
"component": "11034510",
"insertPoint": "4th",
"startingPoint": "16",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "12"
}
,{
"name": "RevContent - In Article",
"component": "12571913",
"insertPoint": "3/5",
"requiredCountToDisplay": "5"
}
]
Before your first tribute tattoo, the only way to express how much you dug certain bands was writing their name in Wite-Out on your middle-school Jansport.
Sandwiched somewhere between Nirvana's happy face and a Smashing Pumpkins heart doodle, you lovingly scrawled three one-syllable words, proving you were a music connoisseur. In bold capital letters, "REEL BIG FISH" let everyone know that you thought third-wave ska was the shit. It also made taking band class and learning to play the trumpet seem kinda cool.
Though your passion for brass instruments may have taken a back seat as you got older, the fire of third-wave ska still burns in your heart. And every time Reel Big Fish gets together for a show, you round up a bunch of former bandmates and relive the glory. Because you're not a "Sell Out."