It was late 1997 when Travis Meeks and his band, Days of the New, seemingly dropped out of the sky to dominate the airwaves. You probably remember "Touch, Peel and Stand." That heavy, acoustic-driven groove was inescapable. But for a lot of fans, the timeline gets blurry right after the success of the Yellow album. People often mix up the band’s internal friction with the rise of their contemporaries, leading to a weirdly distorted memory of what happened next. We're talking about the Days of the New Enemy—not a literal villain, but the internal and external pressures that basically dismantled one of the most promising acts of the 90s.
Meeks was only 17. Imagine that.
The industry was looking for the "next Nirvana" or the "next Alice in Chains," and they found this kid from Indiana who sounded like a weathered soul from the Delta. But the "enemy" wasn't just the shifting tides of Nu-Metal or the rise of pop-punk. It was a chaotic mix of ego, substance issues, and a creative vision that was too big for a four-piece rock band to hold together.
The Breakdown of the Original Lineup
Most people don't realize that the original lineup—Todd Whitener, Jesse Vest, and Matt Taul—didn't just drift away. They were fired. After a massive tour with Metallica and Jerry Cantrell, the tension reached a boiling point. Meeks wanted total control. He saw the band as a vehicle for his specific, evolving sound, which was moving away from the "brown" acoustic rock and into orchestral, sprawling territories.
The three ousted members didn't just disappear into the woods. They formed Tantric.
This is where the Days of the New Enemy narrative gets interesting. When Tantric released their self-titled debut in 2001, it was a massive hit. Suddenly, you had the "engine" of the original Days of the New sound competing directly with Travis Meeks' second, more experimental effort, the Green album. It was a rivalry that played out on the Billboard charts and in the press. Fans were forced to pick sides. Do you want the catchy, radio-ready post-grunge of Tantric, or the 70-minute, multi-layered journey of the Green album?
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Honestly, the Green album is a masterpiece, but it was a commercial nightmare. Meeks was using 100-plus tracks for single songs. He was incorporating orchestras and world music. The label didn't know how to sell it. While Tantric was playing to packed houses, Days of the New was becoming a solo project shrouded in mystery and erratic behavior.
Why the "Enemy" Was Often Within
If you look at the trajectory of Travis Meeks, it’s a cautionary tale about the pressure of early fame. He was hailed as a prodigy. But being a prodigy in the late 90s music industry meant being tossed into a meat grinder. The Days of the New Enemy was, in many ways, the lack of a support system.
The Red album (the third one) saw Meeks diving even deeper into his own head.
By this point, the stories of his struggles with addiction were becoming public. There’s a famous, or perhaps infamous, episode of Intervention featuring Meeks. It is heartbreaking to watch. It strips away the rock star veneer and shows a man struggling with the very talent that made him famous. The "enemy" here was the isolation that comes with being a "genius" who can't play well with others.
- The music was too complex for casual listeners.
- The lineup changes were constant and confusing.
- The shift from acoustic to orchestral alienated the core fanbase.
He wasn't making "Touch, Peel and Stand" anymore. He was making "Dirty Road." He was making "Die Born." These were dark, introspective tracks that required a lot from the listener. In an era where Limp Bizkit was telling people to "Break Stuff," Meeks was asking them to contemplate the nature of the soul. It was a mismatch of timing and temperament.
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The Legacy of the "Tree Colors"
Despite the drama, the three albums—Yellow, Green, and Red—stand as a unique trilogy. No one else was doing what Meeks was doing. He refused to use electric guitars. That was his "thing." He wanted to prove that you could be heavy and powerful without a Marshall stack.
The Days of the New Enemy in the modern era is simply obscurity.
Because the band never had a stable lineup and Meeks had so many personal setbacks, they didn't get the "legacy" treatment that bands like Soundgarden or Pearl Jam received. They weren't part of the Seattle scene. They were outsiders from the start. But if you go back and listen to the Green album today, it sounds incredibly ahead of its time. The production is lush. The arrangements are fearless.
There have been rumors of a "Tree" album—the Fourth album—for nearly twenty years. Snippets have leaked. Meeks has performed new songs live during his sporadic tours. But the "enemy" of time and health continues to stall the project. It’s one of the great "what ifs" of the post-grunge era.
What We Can Learn from the Days of the New Saga
You can't talk about this band without acknowledging the brilliance and the tragedy. It's easy to dismiss them as a one-hit-wonder if you only know the radio singles. But the deeper you go, the more you see a musician who was fighting against the expectations of his genre.
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The Days of the New Enemy wasn't a person. It was a set of circumstances. It was the transition from the raw 90s to the polished 2000s. It was the struggle of a young man trying to grow up in front of a microphone while his world was falling apart.
If you're a musician or a creator, there’s a massive lesson here about the importance of collaboration. Meeks had a vision, but he lost the people who helped him ground that vision in reality. When you cut everyone out, you're left with a brilliant map but no one to help you drive the car.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Listeners
To really understand the scope of this music, you have to move past the hits.
- Listen to the Green Album in one sitting. Don't skip tracks. It’s designed as a continuous piece of music. Pay attention to the transitions and the use of the orchestra. It’s a masterclass in acoustic production.
- Watch the live acoustic sessions. There are videos of Meeks from the late 90s where his guitar playing is simply untouchable. His percussive style influenced a whole generation of acoustic players who came after him.
- Compare the first album with Tantric's debut. It’s a fascinating exercise in seeing how a band's DNA can be split into two completely different directions. One took the pop-sensibility; the other took the experimental darkness.
- Support independent archives. Since the band isn't active in a traditional sense, much of their unreleased history is kept alive by fan sites and YouTube archivers. These are the people keeping the history of the "Tree" albums alive.
The story isn't over, even if it feels stagnant. Meeks is still out there. The music still resonates. The "enemy" might have slowed the journey, but the art that was created during those chaotic years remains some of the most interesting rock music of its decade.
Go back and listen to "The Real" or "Enemy." You'll hear exactly what I mean. It’s not just 90s nostalgia. It’s a specific, haunting vision that hasn't been replicated since.