Tonight I reinforced my longstanding opinion on hardcore shows and the music that is played during them. I had never been to nor had I ever planned on attending a hardcore show. The reason I made the exception tonight (other than the fact that I am smack dab in the middle of a project that tends to get me into peculiar situations) was because my sister Sarah was in town and that would be one of the only times I'd be able to spend some quality time with her. So I accompanied her downtown to a show where they play music I don't like, from some bands I've never heard of, with lyrics I can't understand. I'm not intentionally ragging on hardcore music, just calling them like I see them. If your into this genre, that's fine, that's your thing. I had it coming the moment I decided to go. I've heard the music and I've seen the dancing (if you haven't I suggest YouTubing it. Classic), I knew what I was getting into. In a nutshell I paid 10 bucks to endure the loudest, most inaudible musical shit-fest of my life. I felt like I was the only kid there was wasn't wearing the standard issued uniform: Worn-down Vans, cut-off shorts, a black tank top with bold lettering plastered on it, gauges, and a backwards baseball cap. I guess I can't complain too much, after all, I wasn't the one who got knocked dead in the kisser from the flying fist of a rowdy mosher in the crowd. That lucky lady, was my sister. She was sideswiped by this asshole as he paraded around looking like a scrawning orangutan. In hindsight, its kind of funny, but when it happened, I was pretty damn pissed. She got shinny purple bruise under her eye and the orangutan got his ass beat by a small mob of logical thinkers. Sarah washed the blood off in the bathroom and made it back to enjoy a couple more songs (I'm pretty sure they were songs). By then I was about ready to leave, luckily (due to a certain punch to the face) my sister was ready to go too.
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| I'm hardcore bro |
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