Caught in a Christian Mosh
My first live music experience -- excluding a 1994 production of Jesus Christ Superstar at the Jackie Gleason Theater, and a dress rehearsal for Gloria Estefan's New Year's Eve 1999 fiesta at the freshly erected American Airlines Arena -- was the Y2K edition of mall-punk summer festival-maximus, the Vans Warped Tour. I parked my double extra large JNCOs front at the heart of the crowd, waiting for Christian pop-punkers, MxPx, to take the stage. From the very first half-second of the first Protestant teen-angst anthem, I was swallowed whole by a furious push-pit, during which I was chewed-up-and-spit-out by the collective meaty might of hundreds of shirtless bros donning visors and studded belts ramming the ever-living-crap out of each other.
Hey, ya gotta start somewhere. It's not like the Earth Crisis Face was born with straight-edge sideburn tattoos and mad sick pit moves. Homey most definitely ink-scarred his primary jabrone zone (his face) one tat at a time, and spent all of his free-time reviewing the music video for Sick of It All's "Step Down."
Hardcore Dancing For Dummies
The first time I ever witnessed strapping young men dance to metalcore like cage fighting Kung Fu masters was when Until the End, Eulogy Records' flagship tough-guys, opened for post-Misfits Goth skate-punks AFI at Spanky's in the fall of 2000. My Dad drove the hour-plus to West Palm and hung out inside the bar while I gleefully allowed myself to be pummeled on the back patio by full-regalia Hot Topic punx and Palm Beach County weekend warrior skinheads. FYI, At this live music exhibition, I purchased an extra large AFI T-shirt that toted the pre-hipster ironic slogan, "I Hate Punk Rock."