Brendhan Bowers of Seattle band The Pharmacy knew he was in for more than he bargained for when the police officer asked him to step out of the van. A short while later, sitting in an Arizona jail cell, his only thoughts were about getting his band's van out of impound and making it to their next show on time.

Though Bowers and bandmate Scottie Yoder managed to post bail, they have yet to return to the state of Arizona to deal with their legal troubles. And yes, if you're wondering, they did make it to their next show on time.

In an era of Pitchfork Media-assumed control of musical taste-making; formerly independent bands like Modest Mouse, The Killers and The Walkmen being featured on The O.C.; and MySpace leading to the proliferation of a seemingly endless supply of attractive and fashionably hip young bands, it appears as though independent music has become increasingly estranged from the purist ideals and rebellious spirit that made it important and meaningful in the first place. Fear not; there is hope for the faithful.

Far removed from rock star clichés, catered meals and high-grossing tour acts that receive publicity in the form of flattering reviews and interviews in Spin magazine, an undercurrent of unsung bands exists that book their own shows, make their own merchandise and tour around the country in near broken-down vans, playing any hole-in-the-wall club that will book them.

The life is unglamorous: eating bad food on a daily basis, paying out more in expenses than is paid back by show revenue and, of course, the inevitable van breakdown.

"Our van is a piece of shit," Bowers said. "We went on this one tour and, we ended up breaking down, like, three times."

Bowers said one of the times The Pharmacy's van broke down, it was while traveling up the Grapevine — a steep, notoriously vehicle-unfriendly stretch of road, spanning from the tail end of California's San Joaquin Valley to Los Angeles.

"Scottie and Joey — our old keyboard player — had to take three buses to go find the cheapest alternator and then they had to hitchhike back and install it on the side of the road," Bowers said.

Formed six years ago on Vashon Island, Bowers and Yoder have been playing music since the two were teenagers. Since moving to Seattle four years ago, the group has been on three full US tours, four jaunts up and down the West Coast and has finally started to make a name for themselves on the underground circuit.

"On our first tour, we had no clue what we were doing," Bowers said. "We had about half of the shows booked. The rest of it was a blind stab in the dark."

Preferring to play shows in people's houses over bars, both Yoder and Bowers are aware that they are taking a more difficult route.

"Even if the pay isn't as good, I would much rather play in a house with 20 kids going completely off the wall than I would [in] a bar with 100 people standing with their arms folded across their chest," Yoder said.

Most Pharmacy fans are younger kids, some of whom are underage and have an anti-bar-show mentality.

Bowers acknowledged that the increased hardship caused by playing at alternative venues on tour and being underfed, underpaid and sometimes underappreciated contributed to their last keyboard player quitting.

In spite of the difficulty and hardship, both Bowers and Yoder described the good experiences they had while touring with a sentimental tone. And things have been getting easier. At Planet X Fest in Bloomington, Ind., The Pharmacy played to a crowd of kids who knew the words to their songs and sang along. Similarly, after playing a basement in Lawrence, Kan., Bowers and Yoder were approached by people from Dirty South, a record label that has since released an album of theirs. Even when faced with disparity, Bowers stressed the importance of appreciating an experience and making the best of it.

"Our van broke down in Georgia, and we had to wait a bunch of days for it to be repaired. There was this family having a reunion picnic at a park and we more or less thrust ourselves upon them. We not only got fed, but in a case of true southern hospitality, we ended up staying with some of them until our van was repaired," Bowers said.

Bowers joked that the most important thing he learned while on tour is to never possess marijuana or any other illicit substances — no matter how miniscule of an amount — while traveling through Arizona.

"It can get you arrested, thrown in jail and your van impounded, let me tell you," Bower said. "We were in Flagstaff and all the kids at the show were broke, so they traded us some weed for some CDs or something. The next day, we had just stopped to get some ice cream when a cop pulled us over for having a cracked windshield. The story just goes downhill from there."

No strangers to the mundane trials of life on the road, Seattle hardcore band Shookones have seen their fair share of van problems, bad venues and dismal turnouts as well.

"[Being on tour] is a combination of the worst road trip with the worst meals and the worst sleep, back-to-back, night after night," said guitarist Zach Muljat.

Muljat said one of his worst but surprisingly vindicating experiences was —similar to The Pharmacy — traveling up California's Grapevine.

"We blew our radiator 14 feet from the top. All of us piled out of the van and spent 20 minutes pushing the van — uphill — the last 14 feet. When we got to the top, we hopped back in and coasted all the way into Los Angeles with the engine off, passing people that drove by us before," Muljat said.

Formed in 2004, Shookones capitalized on the hard work, networking and touring done by bands the members had been in previously. Quickly developing a West Coast following by touring with bands like Paint It Black and Sinking Ships, in 2005 Shookones signed to Revelation Records, a well-known hardcore label previously known for releasing albums by influential hardcore band Gorilla Biscuits and emo band Texas Is the Reason.

Though Shookones recently returned from a successful European tour and have plans to tour with the popular pop-punk band Lifetime, Muljat maintained that Shookones are still deeply committed to the do-it-yourself ideology that they started with. Muljat said the band still designs and screen-prints their own T-shirts, books their own tours and frequently finds themselves driving around in a beat-up van, playing the same kind of living rooms and basements they did when they started.

"It's not like we make any money as individuals by doing this. We do this because we really enjoy it," Muljat said. "It's cool things have gotten a little bit easier and we have been getting more recognition, but getting a little bit bigger means that when we go on a shitty tour — like our last one — stuff just sucks that much more."

Reach reporter Brian Slodysko at brianslodysko@thedaily.washington.edu.