CLEVELAND — Third Eye Blind taunted Republicans Tuesday night in a charity concert at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland during the party’s convention, and a frustrated audience responded with persistent boos. “@ThirdEyeBlind I have never been more disappointed,” Twitter user Liza White tweeted. And in a single tweet the band indicated that they didn’t care, tweeting, “good.” — Third Eye Blind (@ThirdEyeBlind) July 20, 2016 Our Uber driver is telling us he just had a bunch of passengers who were very pissed off after attending Third Eye Blind — Hunter Walker (@hunterw) July 20, 2016 The band bashed the Republican platform, asking the crowd, “Who here believes in science?” And lead singer Stephan Jenkins spoke out in support of LGBT rights before performing on of their greatest hits, “Jumper.” — Tina (@tinpant) July 20, 2016 His words set an overt political tone to the lyrics, which open: “I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend. Yo

u could cut ties with all the lies, that you’ve been living in.” Twitter users, who posted videos of the show, reported that the band played some of their more obscure music like the 2009 song “Non-Dairy Creamer” and left before performing their 1997 classic hit, “Semi-Charmed Life,” which many fans wanted to hear. And then @ThirdEyeBlind left before Semi-Charmed Life. #R — Betsy Klein (@betsy_klein) July 20, 2016 — Rachel Zarrell ✨ (@rachelzarrell) July 20, 2016 Homes For Sale In Marchand Mb “Non-Dairy Creamer” implicitly criticizes the Iraq war and tells the story of “two gay Republicans.” Hot Tub Repair Stamford Ct @SHudspath darling, we would never play the rnc. WeYellow Lab Puppies For Sale Olympia Wa

played a charity event for musicians on call at the Rock and roll hall of fame. — Third Eye Blind (@ThirdEyeBlind) July 20, 2016 The band also responded to a tweet by a fan, and criticized a lack of diversity at the RNC, tweeting, “@SHudspath darling, we would never play the rnc. We played a charity event for musicians on call at the Rock and roll hall of fame.” Jenkins wrote an op-ed in the Huffington Post in 2012 titled, “Why We Aren’t Playing at the RNC,” announcing that the band declined an offer to perform a private party at the GOP convention in Tampa that year, because, “They are in fact, a party dedicated to exclusion.” Malia Obama trolls haters with ‘Smoking Kills’ t-shirt at music festival Queen: Trump wasn’t authorized to use ‘We Are the Champions’ The Internet can’t get enough of Michael Phelps’ game face CTA 95th-bound Red Line trains resume normal routing after reroute Angry Heat fans are burning their Dwyane Wade jerseys

Laura Ingraham’s wave at the RNC has people freaking out on Twitter Daughter of Cavs guard J.R. Smith roasts her dad on live television Names, details of Orlando mass shooting victims emerge Cleveland officer to flag-burning protester: ‘You’re on fire, stupid!’ 3 arrested in beating of NASCAR veteran Mike Wallace, daughter after concert Surprise Kanye West show turns to chaos in New York City Canopy at CTA Blue Line station damaged by lightning; se Chicago-bound flight from London makes emergency landing due to fuel problemItems 1 to 16 of 67 Love Each Other V-Neck Tee Cool People Smile Elvis Crew Neck Tee I Love You It's Personal Oversized Mia V Tee Give Love I am Nurse V-Neck Tee I Love Healing V-Neck Tee Happy Grad Happy Life V-Neck Tee I Love Bae Mia V Tee Calm Soul Kim V-Neck Tee Worry Less Love More Kim V-Neck Tee I Love Traveling Rebecca V-Neck Tee Strong Woman Rebecca V-Neck Tee

Items 1 to 16 of 67How to Repurpose Your Clothing for Other SituationsYou have to do the laundry. And you have to wear clothes to do the laundry. That's the paradox which has painted you into this corner, but don't worry! With a little creativity and a lot of desperation, you can turn your Halloween costume into technically some clothing. Stay in character and maybe no one will realize it's you who haven't done laundry for a full semester The thoughtful, loving, and over-sized reminder of your high school relationship can easily be used to make new "friends." Just make some modifications around the waist and/or neckline and throw the shirt on over some short shorts, or nothing at all. Every sweatshirt worn demands an equally embarrassing t-shirt to be hidden underneath it. You may think that Third Eye Blind swag you bought online--not even at a concert--back in '04 is too much of a liability to ever see the light of day, but pair it with that hoodie that you wear every day and you'll be that chill dude with the hilarious throwback t-shirt.

Don't worry, people will get it; it's not like you're really into their latest album or anything. While your gym membership may have devolved to dining hall decadence, there is no reason to waste valuable clothing. Take that old Under Armour muscle shirt and tie it around your neck to make a fully functioning bib so you don't have to worry about your third helping of lasagna getting all over your shirt. And, because of Under Armour's dry-weave technology, soda, juice, and tears will wick away without a problem. The one commonality between all colleges around the world is the abundance of free t-shirts. It takes a certain breed of student (read: lazy and cheap) to realize that these shirts can not only be used on the torso, but can literally clothe every other part of your body as well. We recommend "free t-shirt gloves," "free t-shirt culottes," and "free t-shirt glasses." In a pinch, free t-shirts also make great decorations, bed sheets, and food. Don't ask me again. He is a brainy former UC Berkeley valedictorian who describes himself this way: "I play video games, dude!"

His friends range from gritty novelist JT LeRoy, a former child prostitute, to San Francisco socialite Denise Hale. Of the platinum-haired, Ferre-cloaked Hale, he says, "I party like a rock star, but not as hard as Denise!" He is all Jagger-swagger and model-good-looks but acknowledges he has spent the past few years "finding my way back to myself." After two platinum albums ("Third Eye Blind" and "Blue"), a tumultuous three-year relationship with actress Charlize Theron and a flirtation with Hollywood stardom, Stephan Jenkins, singer-songwriter of Third Eye Blind, is finally settling into his own taut skin. His contradictions are feeling comfy, like a pair of worn Dr. Martens. He's moved from Pacific Heights into a North Beach flat, which he shares with his 9-year-old pit bull, Koby, and his 22-year-old girlfriend, singer Vanessa Carlton, who friends say has been good for him. "I've been in self-imposed exile for the last two years," says Jenkins, 38, sitting in a South Park cafe earlier this month, drinking coffee and eating a croque monsieur.

"I'm now getting back to the authentic, to the nitty-gritty." Jenkins had just finished tweaking lyrics to a final song on Third Eye Blind's 14-track album, "Out of the Vein," which he produced. The album, to be released next month by Elektra, is "raw and lovely," he says, and marks a "a new period for the band." The songs are not "decorative" and not suitable for background music, he adds. It is the San Francisco band's first album in three years and was originally scheduled for release last spring. Jenkins is unapologetic about the delays, saying he was winnowing the song list -- from 25 to 14 -- and rewriting lyrics. A lover of language (he was a literature major in college), Jenkins anguished over words and metaphors, rhythm and rhyme. The cover art is by photographer Mick Rock and screams "rock joy," Jenkins says, hoping the image reflects the content. The first 100,000 copies sold will include a DVD of the making of the album, complete with shots of groupies, rehearsals, backstage boredom, tiffs and jokes and onstage antics.

The DVD was also produced by Jenkins. "I hope people love this album," he says. "It's one of the chief joys of my life. We kept people waiting a long time. But it wasn't done. Now it is done. I'm really proud of it." Jenkins, who has been called everything from an egotist to a canny careerist, is Third Eye Blind: its creativity, charisma, sex-appeal, vision, ambition, CEO. He is the sole owner and shareholder of Third Eye Blind Inc., a band formed in San Francisco in 1992, shortly after the breakup of a hip-hop duo Jenkins was a part of, and incorporated in 1996. In 1997, after more than a decade of struggling -- living in the Lower Haight, sleeping on floors and subsisting off Top Ramen and the generosity of friends -- Jenkins hit it big with "Semi-Charmed Life." The album has sold nearly 6 million copies and spawned such hits as the eponymous title track, as well as "Jumper" and "How's It Going to Be." The band is one of the biggest to come out of San Francisco in years.

"I thought maybe we would sell 300,000 copies, that we would have a Camper Van Beethoven existence," Jenkins says of the first album. "I thought we'd be a critic's band." Instead, the catchy rock dittys became radio favorites and 3EB was quickly dismissed by many in the rock press as a one-hit wonder -- a label that faded with each new hit. The album "Blue" followed, selling almost 2 million copies. "We saw 'Blue' as an extension of the first album. One rolled into the next. We didn't do a press release. Didn't do a video. The album was done in six months. When you do it fast, you make it slicker instead of spending more time to let magic happen. It was a different time for us. We were doing Shoreline Amphitheatre (size) shows every night. It was a hard time for me to have a pure moment, to be present, to be here." Here is a back table in the Butler and the Chef, a favorite hangout of the band, which consists of Jenkins (vocals, guitar), Arion Salazar (bass, guitar and vocals), Tony Fredianelli (guitar, vocals) and Brad Hargreaves (drums, percussion).

A lawsuit by a former guitarist, Kevin Cadogan, is finally behind Jenkins. Cadogan, who was fired, had accused the band of fraud, wrongful termination and breach of contract. Cadogan alleged that Jenkins ran the band like a company that he alone profited from. The parties settled out of court last summer. The band's new recording studio, called Mourningwood Studios, is a block from South Park. Carlton will stop by the studio later to work on the theme song for a new Lara Croft video game. Jenkins will be on hand to help with the recording and engineering. Halfway through the leisurely afternoon meal, the cafe's genial owner, Pierre Chatel, ventures over to ask Jenkins about the progress of the album. "I watched them from when they started work on the album," Chatel says. "I've seen the ups and downs of a rock band." To celebrate the completion of the album, Chatel delivers glasses of wine. Jenkins, with dark, tousled hair and green eyes, has a quick wit and the kind of rare charisma that commands a room.

He wears baggy jeans and a T-shirt like custom-made couture. During the course of the interview, he mentions his love of going fast -- in cars, boats and motorcycles ("I love it when that front wheel comes off the ground!") and his hatred of flying. His favorite music of the moment is by Johnny Cash, Interpol and the Streets. According to his mother, he is most relaxed when he's onstage. And although he had shown an interest in being in a band as early as elementary school, both parents wanted him to do something "more noble." What quickly becomes clear is that Jenkins' public persona is different from his private one. In private, when he finally lets down his puffed-up guard, Jenkins is something else altogether: an unabashed perfectionist who obsesses over each word of every song; a believer in music's power to soothe, heal and bring order to chaos; and a loner at heart who surrounds himself with creative misfits. "A lot of people say I wouldn't have a down day, but you look at the music and there's real melancholy.

I've spent several years now with my head down. I have my share of insecurities, hopes and fears," he says. "My music is my way to rearrange the world according to my own hopes." Many of his adult choices -- of friends and career, in particular -- can be traced to defining childhood moments. When he was 7 years old and living in Palo Alto, his parents divorced. At around the same time, he flunked first grade because he couldn't read. who suffered from dyslexia before the condition was well-known or understood, was held back a grade. He didn't do well the second time around either, but his father told his teacher to pass him and "he'll catch up." His dad, a professor of political science at Stanford and later, at UC Berkeley, worked patiently with him until he caught up.By the sixth grade, his teacher told the unruly Jenkins that he wouldn't graduate from high school and was headed straight for juvenile hall. Jenkins remembers the words, the teacher's cluttered desk, the light in the classroom.

Not only did he graduate (from Gunn High School in Palo Alto), but he also rose to the top of his class at UC Berkeley. Days after his college graduation, Jenkins returned to Escondido Elementary in Palo Alto. He went back to his sixth-grade class, back to the teacher who had called him a loser. There he saw the same messy piles, the same menacing expression. "The principal brought me to his class and was talking about how I was the valedictorian at Berkeley," Jenkins recalled. "I looked the teacher in the eye and said, 'You told me I would end up in juvenile hall. " It was one of the most fulfilling things he's done, he says. "It's important to face down your demons." Of his parents' divorce, he reluctantly and with a hint of exasperation says, "It was wrenching pain." He was shaped, he says, by the failure he saw in a child's most important institutions -- school and family. "It has made me seek out things that I can do on my own. You make kingdoms and castles on your own.

I was not someone who participated in other people's castles. I try to be the fixer of situations and I gravitate to people who are institutional misfits." After jetting between San Francisco and Los Angeles, where he lived off and on with Theron, he has found his way back to what he considers the heart of San Francisco -- North Beach. Moving from Pacific Heights was good for his soul, he says. "Luxury and ostentation usually make me feel antsy, like I'm going to get a case of gout," he says. It also helps that he's newly smitten. The relationship combines giddy flirtation with genuine respect. Jenkins marvels over Carlton's voice and dancing ability -- she was trained as a classical ballerina -- and talks with enthusiasm about having a behind-the-scenes role in her auspicious career. Carlton, for her part, is independent and unimpressed with the trappings of stardom; as happy hanging out at home as attending flashy parties. Of his relationship with Carlton, Jenkins says, "It's like toast and jam for breakfast.