I'm not a punk rocker, but I know the ropes
Her first glipse of Houston Street and the East Village.
Her first punk show.
First of many, I hope. Complete with t-shirt and button.
When I was in highschool I went to punk shows a lot. I saw MxPx, Valu Pak, 90lb. Wuss, 7-10 Split... countless others. Tiny venues, usually. I learned to know all the regulars. There were some people that I only ever saw at shows, but they were my friends.
So anyway, there I was last night: 24-years-old at an all-ages show with four punk-ish bands in a rather large venue. I got us down front so I could introduce her to the pressure.
Like when my sister took my hand and walked me out into the Atlantic to learn how to ride waves.
The crowd heaved and bowed and swayed, and after her (already sore) foot had been stepped on too much I got a bouncer to drag her out. Me too.
After moving to the back she and I danced our asses off. Like I used to do. When it's too crowded up front to move, find a clearing in the back and go nuts.
The Ataris aren't my style, but live they were a lot of fun.
Further Seems Forever used to be cool, (is Anna still dating the guitarist? is she still at Lee? is she reading this?), but I didn't really love them last night.
I haven't listened to them since Chris Carabba went solo. Hah! I remembered his name! I totally spaced the other night trying to think of it, and Matthew was like, "It doesn't even matter." He's right. It doesn't.
I have finally decided that I just can't stand Dashboard Confessional.
Despite all my good memories... (Nancy!).
I also saw The Juliana Theory.
They barfed me up the wall with a chain saw.
Okay, there is a way in which glam can be implemented so that it is hip, but these guys took it to the point of all seriousness.
They ended the set with this song about a chick not saying "goodnight" and the last line was "you always say goodnight". Then they jammed, rocked out, pushed the limit, with this line while playing butt-rock solos and harmonizing their high-pitched, long-toned repetition-line.
The lead singer - I kid you not - fancied himself to be something of a cross between Jon Bon Jovi and Bonno. But his voice was weak (despite the ill-timed hard-core screaming) and nasal and he was not hott (like the above two singers).
Then there were the teenagers. They dance really hard, with, like, this powerhouse energy-source. Which must be why I remember concerts being more energetic when I was in highschool; because everyone had more energy.
This did not bother me. I'm all about kids having a good time.
What bothered me were the girls.
The ones who would let the pit knock them down, and get excited because they were falling, instead of pushing back and keeping their ground. So as they would fall, landing on me, I'd get pissed.
I don't give up my territory. Anywhere. Especially at a pop-punk show.
It's funny because I can put all my weight on a Budweiser can and it still not crush, but when I'm in a crowd and getting sandwiched between sweaty, fat, teenagers: I feel freakishly strong. Like I could have grabbed them by their No Fear shirt and tossed them the fuck out.
Yes: some kids were wearing those shirts, and I had no idea they were still selling them.
Tonight I'll go back. Asit is gone, but I've got people to see.
I think I'll go have a drink at Patio, too.
That cook, Eric, did a strange palm-stroke as he shook my hand last night. And then looked at me like I should know something.
He piques my curiosity.
I'll also go to Brooklyn and see if Matthew knows shit about dj-ing.
Then I'll find a skiff on the East River where I can sleep in the moonlight.
