My band plays lightspeed aggressive punk influenced mostly by old (real) Misfits, old AFI and Bad Religion. The venue for our most recent show nearly qualified as a warzone. By now, I'm used to the kids crashing into us or stumbling through the cables. I've had the microphone knocked into my teeth a few times too. No big deal. I'm used to having to bob and weave through two-stepper haymakers...hell, I've even had to pick people up out of a pit during the middle of a song.
We were getting a really good response to our set, it is always nice when people learn to sing along with your choruses and "whoas", but there were supposed to be three more bands on the bill who had all pulled out, which had a few people more then pissed. For whatever reason, I had a guy continually throwing elbows and attempting to tackle me during the set. It wasn't someone knocking him into me, or him tripping, or just being into the music. He would even knock people out of the way so he could have a clear shot at me. I got tired of it after a while, and fended him off with a shrug from the guitar. After the song, he came back up front and said "I really liked that one." My response "Yeah, me too."
He came back for the next sortie with re-enforcements. I put up with the onslaught for another song. My band decided on a cover of a Misfits song for our encore, partially because it only needed one guitar which meant I'd get to have my hands free. I took up my mic and put the stand off to the side of the stage. I went through the first lines of the song, glaring at the jerk from my Misfits era Danzig stance, basically daring him to try that bullshit again. He and his assistants (wisely) decided to break rank and melt into the background. It was nice, because that let the other kids who had been up front before fill back in. It was still chaos, but at least it was friendly fire.
It was funny though, the bullshit was aimed mainly at me for some reason, but our fans actually ended up doing more damage then the troublemakers did. We burned through two mic-stands, a cable, the venue lost at least one of their P.A. speakers, and we are now down one Marshall head.
Just another night at the punk rock show.
Vagrancy - Be careful who you wake up in a twenty four hour parking lot.
His name was Not Johnny - A young man becomes a sort of superhero after a crippling injury. He