I had forgotten, until last night, just how long it has been since I went to a hardcore show. The Bronx played a free show at the Spaceland last night, the first of their month long Monday night residency there.
After an all-too satisfying dinner at the Thai place next door, I and two others made our way to the show. Unfortunately we didn't miss the opener, a band that I thought was the embodiment of Rockstar Energy drink, all sweaty and synthetic with a gross aftertaste... Then, the Bronx.
They did well to open with their LA song.
I miss my hearing. Those ear hairs will never grow back, but under the submerged fuzziness of the world that I COULD hear, was the warm nostalgic ringing of nights in Boston sans earplugs.
What is it about hardcore? Why do I know a good hardcore band from a bad one? Why is there something overtly homoerotic about every moshpit ever? My mind is all questions, people.
All this queries aside. My real reason for commenting was to talk about Mosh Pit VIPs. Now, I am no expert on hardcore, I admit I have merely dated boys who consistently introduce me to more tunes I enjoy and subsequently take me to shows where I stand on the sides watching, going deaf, loving it. So I get to observe the mosh pit politics and the VIPs.
1. Older Bad Ass. This guy loves hardcore more than the folks of fewer years. His middle name might in fact be Moshpit. He is taller than everyone, but this might be an optical illusion. He has sweat in his blood, tattoos on his ass, and fat encasing every inch of his hardcore loving being. He will put up with NO BULLSHIT in the pit. (At this show, his girlfriend followed him around the moshpit unscathed, fearlessly assured that her Older Bad Ass would keep her safe. She was drinking a beer, she was the eye of storm. It was incredible.)
2. Crazy Fuck. The dude is on drugs. Multiple drugs. He should be dead. But he's too tweaked out to die. He pisses people off. He swings, he misses. He may or may not even know he is at a hardcore show, or in LA, or alive. He definitely has no shirt on.
3. Gang of Five or Six. This collection of music lovers is front and center. They are in a perpetual whirling football huddle, occasionally throwing up a fist or a shaved head. They keep the fire going.
4. Lead singer. If the lead singer is worth his hardcore salt he will join in the mosh pit frequently, and really "get it going".
5. Padded Walls. These guys form the outer edge. They just move people along, protecting people like me.
6. Skinny Virgins. I call anyone in the crowd who clearly didn't know what they were in for a Skinny Virgin. These people are inevitably near the front when the show starts and within seconds are behind the Padded Walls. They had no idea. They might still pretend to be hardcore, but their cover is b-l-o-w-n. If this describes you, don't worry. Even the Older Bad Ass was a Skinny Virgin once. There is still time to get a tooth knocked out, just go home and do some push ups first.
Situation: The stage is a flowering bruise, tunes are pumping. The Lead Singer gets right down in there and the Gang of Five or Six goes nuts. This sends the Crazy Fuck over the edge, an eye pops out, an artery bursts, and just before he does some serious damage, the Older Bad Ass (enemies, bound eternally, surviving only by the other's existence) sends him flying back against the Padded Walls. Beside me, Skinny Virgins shudder almost imperceptibly, and the music pounds.
