Nonetheless, that's a blog for another day. This story is a tad bit old, but I wanted to share it anyway; my friend Robyn has some unique music tastes, many of which, I don't share. Regardless, with my fresh new summer and "why not?" attitude, I jumped at the chance when he invited me to a Pestilence concert at the DNA Lounge in San Francisco. Now normally a heavy metal band named "Pestilence" is not really my thing, but I figured I could at least give it a try.
Soon enough the day came by and I hardly remembered it was time. So I rushed to get ready and ran out the door to Petur's waiting car, and we went off to a rather unremarkable dinner at In-N-Out. Little aside -- In-N-Out is the most delicious food one can get from both heaven and Earth, and if you haven't yet done so, you owe it to yourself, your family, and your country to do this immediately. We chit-chatted for awhile, and talked about what exactly the concert would be like, and as it turned out, there were actually five different bands playing; Pestilence, Warbringer, Vital Remains, Sacrificial Slaughter, and one I can only remember as being "Mustache-Guy's Band." Sounds like a real pleasant bunch, huh?
After a good forty minutes getting lost in the city, violating traffic laws, and attempting to navigate some rather odd parking structure rules, we had arrived at the DNA Lounge just a few minutes early, and went up the entrance to be patted down for weapons. After that auspicious start, we headed inside and I got my first look at the place. In all, it was smaller than I expected, with a two-tiered stage, and an open central area in front of it, about twice as big as my bedroom (I have a big bedroom), a slightly out-of-place after-work bar in the rear (to the left of the doors in) and a wide staircase next to it leading up to the second floor, which was really just a light outcropping around the central area, allowing people to watch from up their in (relative) peace. Think like the second story of a mall. Also, upstairs had a taco stand. An overpriced taco stand. on the right side (facing the stage, away from the entrance) of the room was a few tables set up with a couple of band t-shirts hung up on the wall behind them and manned by a few sour-looking groupies that looked-like they were in their 40s.
Robyn, most likely afraid that I -- with my dirty blond hair and distinctly positive attitude --would stand out to much, insisted I go get a band shirt. Not recognizing any of the bands, I decided on a pestilence shirt because they were headlining, and as Robyn put it "they have a wikipedia page, so you know they're good." Given the choice between a shirt depicting a man's face being devoured by swarming locusts, and the depiction of some ancient, deathly skeletal king (remember the ghost king in Lord of the Rings? Yeah, just like him), I chose the latter. When I asked him if he had any smalls (having recently decided I was a small who just had broad shoulders, rather than a medium with a tiny waist) the groupie gave me an exasperated look and replied "All I have is large." Then why did he even ask my size? "Whatever, I'll take that." I replied. Secretly examining myself in the bathroom mirror while washing my hands, I decided that I look very much like a metal-head. This pleased me immensely, which of course, ruined the effect, so I adopted a much more angry countenance.
We took up our posts at the foot of the stage, which Robyn claimed would be the best place to watch. As you may have guessed, this was not his first rodeo (or metal concert) so I decided to generally trust his advice. Forty-five minutes late, our first band came out, Sacrificial Slaughter. They were very loud. I can't tell you much about the music, because my ears were still adjusting to metal volume, and it sounds like a lot of noise. A lot of noise. Afterwards, we had a short break, during which me, Robyn and Petur shot the breeze for a while longer, and I came to realize that my hearing sounded as though it were underwater. Great.
Just a bit later, Mustache-Guy and his compadres came out. Again, I can't tell you must about his music, not because it was loud, though, but because I was too distracted by his mustache. His ridiculous, waxed and twirled mustache, and how well it went with his pasty white complexion and 18 year-old looks. Also, he kept screaming things like "YEAH, WORSHIP SATAN!" and "DO DRUGS EVERY DAY! GET SMASHED AND SHIT!" which completely depleted my take-you-seriously reserves. Petur and Robyn kept snickering the whole time too.
Finally, one of the really big bands came out, Vital Remains. I like Vital Remains. Why? They played music. At last being able to here the difference between notes, I was able to appreciate the songs they were playing, and some of them were actually quite good. Also, during their performance, they started bringing fans on-stage (including Carrot-Top, the ridiculous thin, white kid that reminded me of Ben Jones with glasses and an orange afro) and throwing them back out into the crowd. Security was not pleased. For the record, the crowd was catching them, but, hey, one slip and the Lounge is liable. I understand. It was also during this band that I decided to try my hand at Moshing. Now, keep in mind, I was completely in the dark about this. The only thing I knew was "don't throw punches -- you'll get your ass kicked." As a result, I at first was only timidly pushing people back in on the outskirts of the pit. Still, I felt like I was participating, which made me bolder; I shoved people harder, and even got shoved a few times. At one point, however, Vital Remains called for a whirlwind. I did not know what to do. The person behind me clearly did, and pushed me into the middle of the pit.
Have you ever imagined a whirlpool? Getting violently swirled around like that, inertia completely forgotten? Yeah, that's what it was liked. It wasn't so bad though. In all honesty, I was surprised by how... well-behaved everyone was. One guy started throwing punches. In seconds security was on him, and had thrown him out. If anyone ever fell down, instantly everyone around them stopped to help them out. One guy dropped his glasses Velma-style, and three seconds later, the people nearby had stopped moshing, and produced a flashlight, while helping him look for them. Nobody actually wanted you to get HURT, just thrown around a bunch.
After Vital Remains had wrapped up, I went over to my friends, eager to brag about my in-pit combat. They were impressed (obviously). Feeling like a war-hero, I decided to mosh from the beginning with the next band. Robyn warned me Warbringer might be a bit different. I didn't listen. If you've ever heard one of Warbringer's songs, you can tell why Robyn said that. Warbringer is the reason people mosh; great music, combative beat. Despite the fact that the pit had become much more... energetic, I was still having fun. There were a couple surprises though; at one point, the crowd hushed, and the lead singer yelled "PREPARE, FOR COOOOOOMBAAAAAAAAAT!" Clearly recognizing the singer's intent, the crowd roared it's approval. I did not understand (as usual). However, two minutes, three body blows, a sore shoulder, and a stiff rib cage later, I understood. Combat Shock; great song, not fun to mosh to.
Feeling the effects of the moshing and the fact it was 12 AM, I was getting pretty tired. After bumming $5 ($5 for a flippin drink?!?) to get a Red Bull upstairs, I felt a bit better. Awake, at the very least. Finally, Pestilence came out, and I was glad they came out last. Pestilence beat is less mosh, more technical, and very interesting to listen to. I wish I could say more about the headline band, who's shirt I now owned (fun fact: it's apparently bad manners to wear a band's shirt to their concert, unless you bought it there. Who knew?), but frankly, I was tired, spent, and a little sore, and spent most of their performance sitting down (for the first time that night).
Finally we drove back home, hoping Petur wouldn't get in trouble for staying out past 1, and I slept most of the way there. Arriving home, thanked my friends, and completely crashed in my bed. The next day I would wake up to find that my hearing had still not returned, and would not for many hours. It's a lot easier to sleep when you cannot hear.
All in all, it was a fun night that gave me an insight into the habits of some genuinely fun and good-natured people, and given the opportunity to, I would do it again.
Wow. That sounds like a pretty awesome story.
ReplyDeleteI will take you swinging at the DNA lounge when you are 18 mkay?
ReplyDelete