Friday, May 23, 2008

P.R.O.S.C.: In which our heroes play their first outdoor show and Dart steps in cowshit



We've all seen the DVD's or been to a few ourselves: outdoor shows. Makeshift stages, shitty sound, no place to sit, limited toilets, bugs, sunburns… yeah, for the most part they suck. This, however, was a very special outdoor show, at least for us. One, it was our first, and two, it was pretty much a gathering of almost every band we've ever played with, except Nautilus, SoulSlave, Kill the Queen, and Beyond Gods and Empires.

Date: Friday, May 23, 2008
Venue: Armstrong Events Center, Bumfuck, TX
Bands: The Shfux, Dilapidated Empyrean, Combat Shock, Dirty Rat Bastards, A.I.J., Hexlust, Boogdish, Zero and Falling, Nuklear Dekay, Sober Daze, Painfilled Silent

Setlist:
-Intro
-Troops
-Toxic
-Hellhammer
-Tombs

PRE-SHOW
I am so glad, oh so fucking glad that Tony and I went on an expedition to find this place a day beforehand. Nobody but those "in the know" had any clue where the "Armstrong Event Center" was; the fact that this wasn't just another city club but some community get-together out in the middle of Free-Bird-ville made its location even more mysterious. It was said to be out near Belton but even those who were life-long Belton-ites (Beltonians?) had never heard of it. Could it be that we were having the piss taken out of us? Was our chain being pulled? Were we being… jived?

Nope. It was actually pretty easy to find once you knew what road to look for, and after you've been there the first time you can easily find your way back again. The directions are virtually idiot-proof. I got lost. It wouldn't have been so humiliating if Keith hadn't been following me with Lacey, Evan and Phil. So now I had James in my car and Tarzan the Windex-Wielding Parakeet Crippler behind me making fun of my navigational incompetence.

After arriving at the Armstrong Center and taking in my surroundings, I began to get a kind of weird feeling. Let's see, old two-story brick building, unkempt grass, two makeshift wooden stages, lots of teens and young adults running around in mohawks and patchwork clothing, sunshine, mosquitoes, pizza, people from different bands and fan clubs coming together to share in the D.I.Y. spirit, no major authority figures... this was like some kind of Punk Rock Outdoor Summer Camp! Indeed.

Over the next hour or so the day's activities were planned in the form of what bands went on which stages at what time, and gear was unloaded and set up in our respective "rooms." Lots of meet-and-greet and heyhowyadoin's going on. I was actually surprised, more people started showing up than I thought would even know about this place. Parents, girlfriends, kids, people from other bands who weren't even playing, setting up lawn chairs and applying repellent as the sun began touching the horizon and the first band took to the stage.


THE SHFUX
These guys weren't even halfway through their first song when a decently-sized pit started. And it just got bigger. I thought I saw some bigg'ns at the Spontaneous show, or even at Kritickill shows past. This one at times numbered around thirty people or more and threatened to overtake those of us standing on the sidelines. Business as usual from the band itself, solid punk with a lot of attitude and some healthy doses of humor, never disappointing. My only bitch was that they didn't play my favorite song of theirs, that black-metal-inspired song of which I don't remember the title.


DILAPIDATED EMPYREAN
I actually wasn't there for the first half of these guys' set. After the Shfux shut off their amps, I went off in search of Tony and JT. Somewhere between point A and point B I stepped in cowshit. Lovely. Off to my car I went, changed into my drumming shoes, and took my boots over to the bathroom where I washed them off in the sink.

Getting back to my place in the audience, I was just in time to catch the last two songs of Dilapidated Empyrean's set. One thing I can say for sure is that these guys must listen to a lot of blues and/or Southern rock. Very groovy, not too fast and not too slow. Their last song sounded a lot like Tool but definitely wasn't a cover, causing grumbles of "rip-off" among some of the audience members. Personally, I didn't care. It was a nice change of pace and not that hard on the ears, either.


COMBAT SHOCK
Whereas DE inspired no pits (it would have been unfortunate anyway considering there was no room on the tiny stage for the guitarist/singer and bassist) Combat Shock brought the moshing back and screaming. I thought the pits were big in the Shfux's set, and I may be exaggerating out of sheer ignorance, but I swear these pits got huge. Of course my sissy ass wasn't participating, but I know Keith and JT were getting into the spirit. The music itself was alright, but actually started to feel like it was running a bit long. Hard to say, but they were certainly enjoyable to watch, mostly cuz the guitarist had cool hair.


DIRTY RAT BASTARDS
By this time I had taken to preparing my drums to be taken up on stage, the stage on which the Dirty Rat Bastards were now performing. As a result, I didn't catch a whole lot of their set, but arrived just in time to witness something that would significantly affect our own playtime.
One thing I forgot to mention was that earlier in the day some of us were jokingly taking bets on who would be the first to break through one of the ramshackle stages. Considering JT and Keith are big fans of their "caveman stomping," we figured it would be us. Oddly enough, it was the band that built the stages in the first place. At some point through the Dirty Rat Bastards' set, something snapped. Sensing it, the singer started stomping, a lot. Lo and behold, the front of the stage caved in. It would have been really funny had we not been next in line to use that particular stage.

After closer examination, it was ascertained that the stage floor itself had not broken, just one of the support beams. Since the floor was made up of multiple pieces of flat wood, it was just one of the pieces taking on a suddenly sharp angle that caused the "cave-in". What ended up happening was the stage floor was lifted, the support network taken out from underneath, and the floor set on the ground.


A.I.J.
Once again, being that this band went on before us, I missed the majority of their set (such was the case at the Spontaneous show a month prior.) It kinda sucks that in the three times I've seen them I've only been able to enjoy them once.
My attention was taken up trying to get my drum kit set up on stage without the whole contraption falling over. The lack of support beams under the floor left the floor pieces very wobbly, which caused me to reduce my kit even further. I took with me only a bass drum, my three toms, one floor tom, hi-hat, two crashes, and a ride. Warming up, I figured out that there would have to be minimal movement on stage and not too much hard-hitting from me.
I swear, sometimes writing these blogs I feel so self-centered, but hey, I writes what I sees.


HEXLUST
We played a very short set, but there was a lot going on, at least for me. Working my kit was like playing Whack-a-Mole while trying to keep the moles themselves from each taking off in a different direction at any given time. The wood panels weren't that big, so different parts of my kit would be on different pieces. These pieces were affected by the movement of my bandmates, which in the end resulted in the occasional cymbal or tom stand falling over and my bass drum trying to slide away from me. Not even halfway through "Troops" I had to kick JT off stage to minimize movement.

Somewhere in the middle of the set, I got another weird feeling, one that transcended the whole summer-camp vibe I felt upon arrival. Here we were, pretty much on the ground, playing our music. The only lighting provided was the stage lights and the lights in the house behind us; the rest was all darkness. And there were the people moshing in front of the stage, figures, mostly silhouetted except for the rare instance when one of them came closer to the stage lights, moving and jerking and thrashing to our beats.
Maybe my quarter-Indian blood was acting up, or maybe I've seen Thunderheart too many times, but right then the whole affair took on a wacky tribal feel. We were making these crazy rhythms and beats in front of the campfire, and inspiring our tribesmen to dance in simultaneous expression. When we went fast, they went fast. When we went slow, they headbanged in time with the rhythm. Then we'd go fast again and of course they would go fast which would inspire me to push the tempo even faster… it was this great primal back-and-forth between ourselves and the audience. That was pretty much it, I didn't see any spirits of my ancestors (I would have run screaming into the streets) or have any life-changing epiphanies ("Get a REAL job!") but it was still a really awesome feeling… and then my hi-hat started falling over and I was jerked back to reality. I don't know if anyone else felt it, I honestly haven't talked to the others about it, but it was cool while it lasted.
Overall it was actually a very successful set. I could hear every guitar and, for the first time ever, Tony's vocals, and I'm pretty sure they could all actually hear my unmiked drums. "Hellhammer" went off without us screwing up after JT's solo, although there was a slight problem with Keith's chord dying and his sound vanishing. He had a fresh one in time for "Tombs", and we finished the set off with a bang.

BOOGDISH
Besides Tony's recorded footage of past shows he's played with them, I had never actually seen Boogdish live and was ready for the opportunity. James and I hustled my drums back into the room and were back out by about the second song. This performance was interesting in that it was the only one-man band the whole evening. The whole stage consisted of Michael, bass in hand and mic in front of face, with his drum machine, keyboard, and maybe one or two other contraptions I lost track of. Michael had the full attention of those who watched, amusing us with his ditties about waffles and 24-hour pet shops and amazing us with just how long this guy seemed to go without taking a breath. My first time seeing Boogdish live was definitely one for the books.


ZERO AND FALLING
After Michael was finished, James and I went to work getting my drums loaded back into my car. After the first trip, James volunteered to bring the stuff to me while I waited by my car so I wouldn't have to keep unlocking the doors. During one of those intervals I noticed something weird had happened; the music had stopped. Zero and Falling had until then been the soundtrack to our packing, and suddenly they were no more. I figured it was some weird technical PA problem and thought nothing of it. James came back and told me that the police had shown up and shut down the show. Looking around I finally saw the police cruiser and quite a few grumbling people heading for their cars.

So basically the show was over. We in Hexlust stuck around for a while to say goodbye, collect our money from the Spontaneous show, and decide on our next plan of action. What it came down to was Tony going home and the rest of us going to What-a-Burger in Killeen.


POST-SHOW
Well, What-a-Burger is where we ended up. About another hour was spent there, discussing the show and poop, being loud and rambunctious, to the point where they sent an employee after us to make sure we were gone. Prick. Nothin much after that, just gettin' home and gettin' to bed, another Hexcellent feather in our cap.


CLOSING THOUGHTS
I had a helluva time at this show, with the whole friendly summer-camp vibe and seeing all these great bands, some we've played with before, some we'd never even heard of before. I wish my parents could have come to tape the show, or somebody had handed Phil a video camera, so that Hexlust's first outdoor show could be preserved in history, but my parents had to get up early the next morning, and Phil, well, I dunno. Dammit Phil!
Anywho, I felt bad for Zero and Falling getting interrupted, plus Sober Daze, Painfilled Silent, and Nuklear Dekay for not even getting an opportunity to play. I wasn't mad at the cops, however, who according to Tony were very calm and just doing their job. Blame goes to whatever hick it was that called them in the first place. Of course, when you think about it, what more fitting end is there to a Punk Rock Outdoor Summer Camp than to have the cops come in and shut it down before it's even completed?
For this, Hexlust's sixth round of public buffoonery, and our first-ever outdoor show, thanks goes to the Dirty Rat Bastards, whose idea this whole shenanigan was. Thanks also to Walter, for as usual helping hold everything together and coming through with our moneys (Yes we're money-hungry; very un-cool but hey, gas is on the rise and with it is the price of porn). To James as well, for not only coming (of his own volition) to our show but also helping me lug my shit, all this after a long day of sweating his tits off in some warehouse on post. Thanks to Phil, Lacey, and Evan for tagging along and putting up with hearing the same tunes over and over again. Thanks to Tony's co-workers, whom I saw once and then never again. Muchos gracias to Cole's girlfriend, for snapping the awesome photos in which everyone else looks jubilant but I look like I'm attending my father's funeral. Finally, to all the many people who came out and witnessed this roster of performances, and to all the many performers themselves. This was an awesome experience and I hope we get to do it again.
Tony got dirt in his amp.