Shfuxlust 4: The Dream Master

Date: Saturday, June 21, 2014
Venue: Armstrong Center, Belton TX
Bands: Buoyancy, Moniker, Shfux, Marla Strange, Hexlust

It's been an oddly mild summer in Central Texas. It's the season for high temperatures and low precipitation 'round these parts, but this year, there has been hardly a day in the hundred's, and we've had some actual rainfall here and there. Though the skies were mostly overcast, with scattered showers around the Killeen/Belton area this past Saturday, nary a drop was reported to have fallen in nearby Holland, where residents and tourists alike took part in the third day of the city's 40th annual Corn Festival.

Yessir, from morn til night, festivalgoers ate some catered barbecue, watched some live music, and took part in contests testing their mettle in feats such as corn cob bobbing, seed-spitting, and chicken-hurtling (?) along with such standbys as a three-legged race and a 5k run. From what I hear, it was quite a hootenanny, and fun was had by all.

Not too far away from that setting of some Southern-fried Garrison Keillor monologue, a different set of fun-lovers were gathering for their own sort of festivity. The time had come for another Armstrong show, named after the community center and former schoolhouse on the outskirts of Belton that acts as the sole local venue for the bands and fans of the Bell County punk scene.

Although Tony and I have attended one of these shindigs every now and again, we in Hexlust haven't actually performed since that surreal evening in 2009 that ended with the presence of police, an ambulance, and even a damn helicopter. Over the years, we've had plenty of requests to come back and play again, and yeah we've wanted to; the BC punkers were our first real fans, after all. We could never get the scheduling right though. Finally, as I've explained before, our lives have leveled out somewhat, to where we were able to get things lined up just right, and come back to this place of dirt and bugs and not much else to play a whole album's worth of material for our hexcellence-starved friends.

BUOYANCY
First up was Buoyancy, a part musical, mostly spoken word act fronted by Gary Spragg, who I've encountered at these shows before but didn't know was a performer, as well as band manager and show organizer. The dude practically crackles with restless energy even if he's just sitting in a booth at Whataburger, a quality which combines with his distinctive voice to make for one helluva public speaker. I was loading my drums in at this time so I couldn't tell you what he was speaking about, and I'm not super familiar with the art of the spoken word performance, but I can tell you Gary was passionate without being obnoxious, greatly preferable to that Levi guy who screams about Jesus, and was very dynamic, only raising his voice at the "emotional highlight" of his monologues. I don't recall hearing anything from the musical side of the act, but again, my body and mind were elsewhere.

It was oddly fitting that his impassioned monologues served as the evening's opening act, since Gary also took on the role of a sort of de facto master of ceremonies. Between bands the audience would almost completely empty out, retiring to the outdoors where there was an awesome breeze that was much appreciated in the day's mugginess. At the end of these "intermissions," Gary would be the one to announce the band, even going so far as to march outside and yell, "MONIKER ARE NOW PLAYING, IF YOU WANT TO SEE THEM, GET THE FUCK INSIDE!"

MONIKER
Speaking of, how the hell have Moniker been around as long as they have (their first album was released in 2010) and I'm just now hearing about them? I know my finger isn't exactly on the pulse of this scene, but I've been working with Walter on a semi-regular basis since 2011 for recording our album and have heard about everyone from Marla Strange to Burnt Fuse, so I wonder how I missed out on them. These guys were definitely the surprise act of the evening, grabbing everyone's attention and sounding pretty damn fat for a three-piece.

They describe themselves on their Facebook profile as a "rock band that has mixed elements of punk, classic butt rock, and metal," but I would pin their sound as being grunge before grunge had a name, sing-songy and melodic but heavy and screaming and more than a little noisy, the way Nirvana sounded in their early days. Or, do any of you remember Tad? I got a huge Tad vibe off these guys and was transported through my memories to my CTC days, spinning the "Inhaler" album at 2am as I got started on a paper that was due in about eight hours.

As is my luck, the moment I discover Moniker is right around the time they decide to call it a day. According to their Facebook, they'll be laying the band to rest after this summer's set of shows, and I dunno if I'll be able to make it out to another gig. Thankfully, they have a wealth of material up on their BandCamp page, so I'll definitely be digging in.

SHFUX

"We're not dead yet! We're not dead yet! We're not dead yet! WE'RE NOT DEAD YET!!!"

Damn I love that song! Shfux ain't going nowheres no time soon, and fuck you if you think otherwise! They've been around since at least 2002, so not only are they the one band still around from back when we first started playing these Armstrong shows, but they actually have us beat by a few years. Their lineup is almost the same as it was back in '08, except Dylan moved to drums to replace the departing Cole, Walter shifted to bass, and they brought in Matt on guitar. Still a strong trio, still angry, still plugging away.

They played some of my favorites from their new album, Not Dead Yet, including (of course) the title track and the epic, shifting "Doomsday Forever," along with an old Hexlust favorite "I Come From The Desert" (WHIFFLE BALL, WHIFFLE BALL!) while I started warming up on my drums and greeting some old friends. By this point I realised I was actually getting nervous, I was experiencing some no-shit stage fright, so if I wasn't catching up with folks I haven't seen since I left my job at the mall last year, I was pacing back and forth or smacking away on my practice pad.

MARLA STRANGE
Now this band I've heard quite a bit of, as Walter would play songs from their album The Count | The Priest | The Gunfighter in the studio from time to time. I dig the tunes, and I especially like their live presence. Here are two dudes, guitarist/vocalist Logan and drummer/vocalist Jason,  playing the music they enjoy and having the time of their lives, as evidenced by their perpetual grins.

What I found most endearing is that whenever Logan would play a lead or just come to some instrumental section, he would actually turn his back to the audience and look at Jason, and they'd be locked in with each other. Warms the cockles, it does.

Just a quick aside from a drummer about a drummer, Jason is a damn powerhouse. It probably helps that he's a big dude, but he really packs a whallop, and his snare can be heard for miles. Tony mentioned a show he played way-back-when, a point where Jason had just started drumming and knew only the most rudimentary of beats. A year later, his technique had improved by leaps and bounds, apparently by listening to a lot of Rush.

Lesson for you kids: Listen to Neil Peart. He won't steer you wrong.

HEXLUST
So, true to the pattern I mentioned earlier, the audience emptied out after Marla Strange were done, leaving us to set up in an empty hall. I can't tell you how many times I've wished for an empty venue before we played so I could get my drums onstage without bumping into folks, so this was a dream come true. Even better, Walter put on Altars of Madness and blasted it over the P.A.

Holy hell, you guys.

I can't even begin to tell you what a rush it was for us, getting set up for this well-anticipated gig while an album that is near and dear to all of our hearts, an album each of us has admitted to listening to every day for at least a month at some point in our lives, an album currently celebrating its twenty-fifth year of existence and still holding strong, still a benchmark of blasphemy, booming and echoing through this empty hall, somehow sounding even grander and more evil with the reverb provided by the completely-tiled floor. It was an enormous adrenaline rush getting set up while making faces at my bandmates and growling along:

Suffocating evil smoke arise, cleansing the masses of iniquity! Cauldrons blaze in sanctifying ritual, VILE CREMATORY BURNS MY EYES!!!

Even if this turned out to be the worst show of our career, this would stand out as probably the best pre-show ever.

Of course, the set itself was fantastic.

Not only were there some Hexlust fans from back in the day, but there were also some kids who were seeing us for the first time, in fact hadn't even really heard of us before, and had no idea what to expect. According to the open-mouthed reactions we got, some minds were blown, which is always gratifying to see.

We were in fine form, as well; this is probably the most "animated" I've seen JT and Tarzan get in a good long while. Maybe the fact that we were playing right on the floor took away the possible danger of falling off an elevated stage, but they were all over the place. Tarzan was getting in the audience, even with his bass, and JT would come over and play in front of my kit while making faces at me, and even got over near once or twice. This is when I think we're at our best, when we're able to be fully mobile and engage not just the audience, but each other.

We played the entire album, every original song we've written, and had a mosh pit going pretty much the entire time. Thankfully, everyone was also really great about not running into the microphones, which has been a problem at Armstrong shows past, and I know Tony was grateful for it. Probably the best part was the Frisbee that started going around at some point, zipping from one side of the hall to the other, and occasionally making its way to the "stage" area. One time it bonked Tony right in the noggin, and ultimately came to rest next to my drumkit, where it remained for the rest of my set. I was too busy killing myself playing an hour's worth of songs in the humid summer evening air.

"But Dart," you say, "your tunes are pretty short and you only have a couple longer songs. For the whole album's material, plus between-song banter, I'm thinking maybe forty-five minutes, tops." Well, can you say, double encore?? That's right, all those songs and still it all felt too short, so by JT's suggestion we pulled out reliable ol' "Sodomy & Lust," probably the worst we've played it in a while. Tony was impressed he still knew all the lyrics, but by this point, is there any part of that song we could possibly forget?

After that, Tony mouthed to me, "One more?" I responded, "NO, I can't." Fuck you, Tony, I'm out of water and can't lift my arms very well. But then I saw that Old Man Tarzan wasn't packing it in yet, and the audience didn't look like they were ready to go anywhere, and I saw Tony mouthing "Troops?" to JT, so I decided, fuggit, we'll go with Troops.

PSHH, PSHH, went my china, and we launched into "Troops of Doom," which I don't even remember playing but I'm sure was just a big fuckerycloud of flubbed fills and slippery solos. Tarzan later reported feeling like he could play our whole set all over again and wanted to do "Evil Dead," but the rest of us were done. It was right around eleven by then, time to pack it in anyway.

We received an offer or two for afterparty festivities, which we politely declined. I seriously don't see how any musician can go out gallivanting after playing. I need food and quiet, a sentiment echoed by my bandmates. Maybe we're just old. We went to Whataburger, got some food to go, and retired to Tony's apartment to unwind in peace.

SETLIST
F.B.F.
Toxic High
They Conjure
Baphomet Dawn
Imminent Retardation
Hellhammer
Meganecropolis
Tombs of the Blind Dead
Sodomy & Lust
Troops of Doom

CLOSING THOUGHTS
When these Armstrong shows go well, as this one did this evening, they're a testament to the DIY method of setting up shows. Between bands, when the place was empty, somebody would be going around picking up assorted trash and tossing it into the bin. During the sets, nobody got too rowdy, and we had help dealing with the drunken idiot shithead who accosted my bandmates after we were done, along with having his keys taken from him. As we were packing in our gear, the floors were mopped up and chairs put away. No bouncers, doormen, or waitstaff necessary, nobody was hospitalized, and a good time was had by all.

Our album, Manifesto Hexcellente, is currently in the mixing stages. Slow going as Walter is letting each of us oversee the sound adjustments of our individual contributions, but it's getting done. Even though we've figured out my drum sound, I'm going to be going back here soon to oversee the panning of my toms (there are quite a few long fills on this thing). After that, we have the "whole band" session where we listen to it and decide if we're happy overall, then it'll be time to unleash this abomination!

A physical release is definite; vinyl a strong maybe since all the cool kids are hip to that jive now'days; new designs for shirts an absolute; other crap that real bands do, including patches and stickers and buttons and posters and windshield decals and trading cards and tin lunchboxes and pinball machines and inflatable pools and themed Putt-Putt courses, will be considered. No guarantees though.

In fact, you know what, you might just get a download code, because fuck all that work. We can only be so competent, don'tcha know.

Shfuxlust Part 3: Everything Goes to Hell

Date: Saturday, February 21, 2009
Venue: Armstrong Center
Playing With: BC Brewhounds, Dirty Rat Bastards, Combat Shock, Shfux

PRE-SHOW
"FUCK IT’S COLD!" was the mantra of the day. The Saturday before this one, it was warm. The Saturday after this one, it was warm. Friday, the day before, warm. Sunday, the day after, warm. But this day? Cold.. And not just “low temperature” cold, no, there was wind, too, friend. So WHY, on this cold and blustery evening, are we playing OUTSIDE?!? I’m still in a tizzy over that. Especially since we were playing outside of a building which was big enough for us to play in. I just didn’t think of saying anything to anyone about it cuz I didn’t wanna seem like a bitch.

What made this outing to the Armstrong Center different from the previous one (besides the weather) was that 1) we had a semblance of an actual stage, in the form of a huge wooden trailer, instead of just playing on the back porch. 2) This was brought together for the purpose of being a “covers” show, where the bands could play their favorite songs from other groups and not feel guilty for including too many of them. Most of the other bands only included one or two covers, but we in Hexlust designed a whole set list chock full of ‘em, going way back to songs we played when first jamming together.

B.C. BREWHOUNDS
This was the debut performance of the B.C. Brewhounds, featuring Kodee’s who used to be a guitar player for Hexlust (those of you who know your Hex-history). Also in this band was Tom, bass player for Boogdish back when Tony played for them. I didn’t get to see them, I was inside setting up my drum kit and not being cold, but I heard well enough. Angry triple-guitar punkery! No covers though, which is understandable since it was their first show.

DIRTY RAT BASTARDS and COMBAT SHOCK
Oh for the life of me I remember almost nothing about these two performances. I was either walking around talking to friends and trying to stay warm, or sitting by my drum kit limbering up on practice pads. I remember only one or two covers being played, which was starting to make us wonder if we were the only ones sticking to the theme of the evening.

HEXLUST
Fuck it’s cold! Luckily I was in motion a lot, moving my “retardedly huge” (quote from Walter) drum kit onto the trailer and setting it up for playing. I brought the whole shebang this time too; rotary toms, extra floor toms, and all. Also, remember that crash cymbal I found at Rock Bottom that nobody claimed? While searching for a way to integrate it into my kit, I came to the conclusion of combining it with a few of my other 16” crash cymbals to make them my hi-hat cymbals. Why? Why not? Bigger ain’t big enough, after all. Plus, I liked the sound I got, very thick and explosive as opposed to the thin and glassy sound of 14” hats.

The spurs on my bass drum were failing this evening, so I just put the drum right up against the side of the trailer to make sure it didn’t go anywhere. The guys set their amps up beside my kit, although if we had really remembered our lessons from before we would have had them behind me to increase my listening and following-along ability. The dudes themselves were on the ground, guaranteeing Tony a throat lined with dust by the middle of the set.

Speaking of the set! All covers, with the exception of “Hellhammer,” which is a tribute song so it kinda counts. I forget if we did the intro song, but just like back in the day we started things off with “Wasting Away” as the first full song. I almost forgot how fast we could play that song! We also brought back “Chainsaw Gutsfuck,” and “Evil Dead,” kept our regulars “Sodomy and Lust,” “Troops of Doom,” and “Open Casket,” and for the first (and only) time ever, we played “Chromatic Death.” (SOD version, not the Anthrax version)

Our performance was good, marred only by my to-and-fro drums and my limited ability to hear the guitars. A nearby barrel fire was started a couple songs in, which came as a mixed blessing: on one hand, we had warmth by proximity; on the other hand, fires cause smoke, smoke travels with the wind, and the wind just blew that shit right into our faces. My contacts got irritated and my eyes started tearing up, but thankfully I could still see the drums in front of me. Overall, it was great fun playing all those covers, especially the “classic” ones, and it was gratifying seeing that people were enjoying our good time.

SHFUX (SCREECHING WEASEL?)
We were the first band this evening to have a set list consisting mostly of covers. The Shfux were the first and only band this evening to have a set list consisting entirely of covers from one specific band, that band being legendary American hardcore (later pop punk) band Screeching Weasel. As a matter of fact, not only did they cover a bunch of songs, but they added another guitarist to the lineup, some dude I didn’t meet.

The set was alright, as usual it had all that great Shfux obnoxiousness and energy, but I had never heard of Screeching Weasel before this evening and my interest wasn’t held very long. I wandered around to the front of the building, where the incident soon occurred.

THE INCIDENT / POST-SHOW
I’m not going to go much into detail on what happened next. I will say that some people become total idiots when they hit the sauce, and decide to say derogatory comments about others. If one of these others happens to be very prideful and willing to fight for his good name, conflict occurs and people get hurt. Well, someone got very hurt, to the tune of falling off a truck as it was rounding a corner (centrifugal force, you cruel bitch) and being knocked unconscious. Soon, the police were called and the Shfux’s set was cut short.

The whole thing soon became very surreal, with ten or so cop cars showing up along with an ambulance. Not long after, a helicopter hovered overhead, but never landed since the ambulance was apparently adequate. Some folks were crying. Others were shouting angrily into cell phones. Still others were scrambling to put out the barrel fire and hide evidence of underage drinking.

After a very long, very tense while, most of the cops left and so did most of the attendees. Two of my bandmates, one of whom I was taking great care not to talk to due to his willing encouragement (however small) in what happened, stayed behind to give statements to the remaining officer. Now, the whole “giving a statement thing” is helpful and all, but I avoided that volunteer session for three reasons. One, I had the feeling that it really wouldn’t do much good. This feeling was later proven valid, as I was reminded that Kodee has been in many a skirmish and is very unlikely to press charges. Two, I was feeling very disconnected from this incident on account of how stupid it really was. Finally: it was still very cold. I left soon thereafter.

We have not been back to the Armstrong Center since.

Final note: as we were cleaning up the inside of the center, Walter took a look around and said “Hey, you know what, we could have played inside!”

P.R.O.S.C. Part II: Ralph's Big Debut

Date: Saturday, October 4, 2008
Venue: Armstrong Center, Holland(ish?) TX
Bands: Shfux, Dirty Rat Bastards, Hexlust, Poop Squad, AIJ, Nuklear Dekay

PRE-SHOW
Once again, to the Armstrong Center! People wondering what the hell I’m talking about should read one of my earlier blogs about the Punk Rock Outdoor Summer Camp. This time was more of a Punk Rock Fall-Kickoff Barbecue. And by that I mean there was FOOD this time! It was so awesome. There were burgers and hot dogs and sausages and pastries and beans and other shit that was way hella good.

THE SHFUX/FIGHT
Playing music at punk shows is always fun. Everybody’s friends with each other and there isn’t drama very often. Well, there was today. During the Shfux’s set, some blonde woman came up and threw a bottle at the feet of Walter and Dylan. (guitarist/vocalist and bassist, respectively). This was befuddling but whatever. Woman storms off and I follow her to see if there are any other shenanigans in store. And boy howdy! This chick then takes another bottle and fires it right into the back of a truck parked along the side of the center, just around the corner from the “stage” area, shattering the back windshield! This truck later turned out to be Dylan’s, and the woman is later confirmed to me to be his ex.

Woman-scorned then storms around to the front of the center, where she is confronted by a little Hispanic spitfire, who I later found out was Dylan’s current squeeze. CAT FIGHT! Hair-pulling and clothes-ripping and face-punching and the screaming! The best part was that Tony was right there in the action, getting the footage on tape. The fight was broken up and the blond was sent packing, and lot of us later tracked Tony down and asked him to show the video to us.

POOP SQUAD + D.R.B
The fight threw a slight pall over the show, particularly for Dylan, but overall it was still fun. We saw the Poop Squad for the first time, who played a short set of short songs, one of which involved making poop, not war. Also, no drummer, which made things interesting, except when one of the members kept senselessly trying to incite people to mosh. Dude, FAST MUSIC – DRUMMING = NO MOSH. Without the percussive pulse, you’re lucky if you get headbanging. Dirty Rat Bastards played a VERY short set, having not been rehearsing much lately or whatever, so we ended up on stage much sooner than I had planned.

HEXLUST
The frustrating thing (for us) about this show was that there was no sort of stage set up. Last time, there were two wooden stages for bands to alternate between, but this time there was just the back porch, which was about as big as the area rug in my living room, so it was confined-quarters playing this evening. This resulted in me scaling my kit down a bit, but basically it was just taking out one floor tom and my rotary toms. Pictures show me using my 8", 10", 12", and 14" toms, and all my cymbals, including my side-hats mounted on my second crash cymbal. By the bye, I also got to debut my new 18” Zildjian Z Custom Medium Crash cymbal and Gibraltar double pedals! Hells yeah.

Just so I don't seem totally selfish, pictures also show Tony using his ESP guitar that evening (it's rare he performs with that thing so it was an event indeed!) and his Fender amp, which has long since been replaced by a huge half stack. JT, I'm not sure if he was still using his Marshall amp or if he had his B52 by then, it's off to the side and out of all shots. He was, however, switching between his black Jackson and Eric's guitar, also a Jackson. Keith was using the bass he always uses (It says "SDGR" on the headstock) and the Hartke speaker.

The patio positioning also put the audience LITERALLY right in front of us. For the most part we were fine with this, except it resulted in more dirt getting kicked into the amps than last time, and gave some obnoxious drunk kid access to Tony’s mic. We’re all for fans jumping on the mic with us, but damn, it just proved to be a distraction. I think this guy later got his ass kicked, or at least got told to shut the fuck up.

AIJ + NUKLEAR DEKAY
AIJ were a blast as always. Today there was added fun for me since they had recently included my high school chums Ducky and Doo Jin in their ranks as bassist and drummer, respectively. The set seemed to drag on for a bit, apparently after a certain point they just started pulling songs out of their ass that were half-rehearsed, but I still enjoyed it.

The sad part of the day, though, besides Dylan lamenting his back windshield, was Nuklear Dekay’s set. This show was set to be their farewell show, and two or three of their members didn’t even show up. From what I heard, one guy just wasn’t coming, and the other guy said he wasn’t gonna come if the first dude wasn’t gonna come, and I think that resulted in the third dude’s absence.

Luckily, though, a drummer was available on short notice; a capable young man with a fond appreciation for punk music and the chops necessary to get the job done. Yes, I’m talking about RALPH HARRIS, who just came along to see us play and ended up playing his first show in his drumming career. So, for Nuklear Dekay’s last show, we had Yames doing his vocalizing, Bob on guitar, and Ralph making shit up as he went along, just feeling the music and knowing the changes when he heard ‘em coming. It was actually a really good set, and an optimistic closer to a kinda up-and-down barbecue show.

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.