36 dollars worth of roasted chestnuts
really is 36 dollars worth of roasted chestnuts.
I found this out the hard way, and only 2 out of the 59 people I asked on the way there accepted my offer of a hot roasted one. I stumbled into the band room and semi-offered Backtrack but the potential to wet my pants from intimidation was too high so I couldn't look them directly in the eyes.
I found this out the hard way, and only 2 out of the 59 people I asked on the way there accepted my offer of a hot roasted one. I stumbled into the band room and semi-offered Backtrack but the potential to wet my pants from intimidation was too high so I couldn't look them directly in the eyes.
Just so you get an even deeper understanding of what happened to me at this show, I will demonstrate via metaphorical comparison. In a nutshell, going to a hardcore is like eating some muthafuckin chestnuts aigghh?
First you gotta penetrate the outer skin, that tough and smooth surface so weathered and strong after hours of heat and comfortable livin. Once that skin is broken though, all the goodness is there to get MUNCHED. The soft warm insides, so used to a life of sheltered serenity, suddenly get thrust out into the world and thrown into yer goddern mouth, and they either slide down yer gullet smooth and easy and have a good time, or wriggle n writhe and complain until you can't take it and have to spit em out, right to the back of the room. Chestnuts. You feelin me?
First you gotta penetrate the outer skin, that tough and smooth surface so weathered and strong after hours of heat and comfortable livin. Once that skin is broken though, all the goodness is there to get MUNCHED. The soft warm insides, so used to a life of sheltered serenity, suddenly get thrust out into the world and thrown into yer goddern mouth, and they either slide down yer gullet smooth and easy and have a good time, or wriggle n writhe and complain until you can't take it and have to spit em out, right to the back of the room. Chestnuts. You feelin me?
We got there super early, KingLyChee
weren't meant to start till 8 so we milled around, I made some half-assed
attempt to sell off the rest of my nuts but gave up and tossed em down the
stairwell. So long ol nuts, hopefully the factory rats enjoyed you.
KLC eventually took the floor and we were
all ready for some fuckin noise. Unfortunately I don't know the names of any
KLC songs, nor the lyrics, which really sucks on my part cos watching all the
kids jumpin around got me real hyped. Riz holds the floor. He's got
this stance like he's surfing, realll low with his arms out, swayin from left to right.
Then all of a sudden he jumps up and yells at the roof and the kids all scramble up to grab at
his microphone. He gets the brim of his hat on real tight, right above his eyes
so when he’s looking at you, he’s looking at you. I was getting into it on some numbers, but my heart was truly
set on Backtrack. KLC was the
thumbnail stabbing the skin, trying to pierce an opening. I felt something dark
and unsettling deep inside me that I had to get out, and it definitely wasn't
poop cos I'd got that out of the way in the morning. I'd listened to Backtrack on
youtube a bunch before the show and from the moment I heard their
guitars I knew that it was the exact sound I needed.
KLC finished up, my ears were ringing, my
nostrils were leakin goop and kids were pulling their dislocated shoulders back
into place.
The first thing Backtrack did when they came on stage was to usher the crowd up the front. "Scoot up! Scoot UP!!" He yelled. Very good idea.
Then, no hesitiation, straight into it, BAM. WAll of speed fucking fast running noise. --- SICK OF FOLLOWIN. THEIR RULES. --- Oh man, I never go to any hardcore gigs knowing the lyrics. That was the only song I knew words to. Throughout the gig I tried to refrain from jumping up to grab the mic cos I never knew what the fuck to say, but sometimes I had to man, grab it and yell YARRARHSHGHAERBGARBLEGARBLE something it felt realllly good. Big pile of clawing climbing bodies gotta get on top of it. In one song I'm pretty sure he says "muth-er-fuck-ing purple shoe" over and over, so I stuck with that and yelled it at the top of my lungs. Fuck, the singer's voice. Its like a switchblade, whip whip sharp and quick. Oh man, His dancing, pounding his feet on the ground the stage bouncing with the force, his raw fuckin energy, too good. Thats how I describe that band, raw energy. Like hurling a bottle against a wall. The guitars punching through straight through. Bass drum bass drum bass drum. Bassist stood solid as a rock the entire set, legs more than shoulder's width apart, never gonna move. Kids diving off the stage falling straight on the floor gettin back up doin it again. 4 songs in and I was T I R E D. But they were digging, they were reaching inside of me, pulling that inhibition out. I was dancing trying to get into it, I could feel this explosion of pent up feeling boiling and rising inside of me. Then it hit. Totally unexpected, totally unthinking, just FUCKiNG BAM. 2nd to last song, I lost it full force, full power boom boom fuck slamming into people running round and round round the circle, jump back in slam my fist on the stage BOOMM fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. I get tense just thinking about it, oh oh ohhh. And fuck yeah we brought em back on for one more song!! They said they had nothing left so fuck it, play SICK OF FOLLOWIN THEIR RULES, crowd pleaser, gotta love it.
The first thing Backtrack did when they came on stage was to usher the crowd up the front. "Scoot up! Scoot UP!!" He yelled. Very good idea.
Then, no hesitiation, straight into it, BAM. WAll of speed fucking fast running noise. --- SICK OF FOLLOWIN. THEIR RULES. --- Oh man, I never go to any hardcore gigs knowing the lyrics. That was the only song I knew words to. Throughout the gig I tried to refrain from jumping up to grab the mic cos I never knew what the fuck to say, but sometimes I had to man, grab it and yell YARRARHSHGHAERBGARBLEGARBLE something it felt realllly good. Big pile of clawing climbing bodies gotta get on top of it. In one song I'm pretty sure he says "muth-er-fuck-ing purple shoe" over and over, so I stuck with that and yelled it at the top of my lungs. Fuck, the singer's voice. Its like a switchblade, whip whip sharp and quick. Oh man, His dancing, pounding his feet on the ground the stage bouncing with the force, his raw fuckin energy, too good. Thats how I describe that band, raw energy. Like hurling a bottle against a wall. The guitars punching through straight through. Bass drum bass drum bass drum. Bassist stood solid as a rock the entire set, legs more than shoulder's width apart, never gonna move. Kids diving off the stage falling straight on the floor gettin back up doin it again. 4 songs in and I was T I R E D. But they were digging, they were reaching inside of me, pulling that inhibition out. I was dancing trying to get into it, I could feel this explosion of pent up feeling boiling and rising inside of me. Then it hit. Totally unexpected, totally unthinking, just FUCKiNG BAM. 2nd to last song, I lost it full force, full power boom boom fuck slamming into people running round and round round the circle, jump back in slam my fist on the stage BOOMM fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. I get tense just thinking about it, oh oh ohhh. And fuck yeah we brought em back on for one more song!! They said they had nothing left so fuck it, play SICK OF FOLLOWIN THEIR RULES, crowd pleaser, gotta love it.
Thanks a lot Backtrack, you made me really
happy. And thanks a lot Riz and everyone who made this happen, Hong Kong needs you more than you realise. And more
thanks to roasted chestnuts for making me a literary genius.
Backtrack FB: https://www.facebook.com/BacktrackNYHC
THEIR RULES: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7y1kuESm3M0
