Derelict Junction

Providing missile launch codes for foreign cryptographers everywhere.

Friday, February 04, 2005

Rock Star Powers, Activate!!

I've always been a big proponent of public humiliation, and outside the realm of a spotlighted Karaoke stage, the best way to achieve this is going to a concert that you're WAY too old for. I mean too old like you look like you're there to pick up your daughter, and you're prepared to tell people that if they ask.

My first experience with this was going to an Avalanches show at PopScene a few years ago. When my friend mentioned how old she felt, I denied it and tried to prove her wrong by asking a girl I was recently talking to her age. The answer was a simple, high-pitched "Nineteen!" After that moment, I spent the rest of the night lamenting the many years behind me. The only moment that suspended my gloom was running into the opening DJ, Dan the Automator. I stopped to congratulate him on the great set he just had. When our eyes met, I could see a brief glimmer of happiness and that glimmer said, "Thank god there's someone here as old as me!"

So last Monday, thanks to Mac's good-nature, I was treated to the Winterfresh SnoCore Tour at the Fillmore. AND, Mac got us VIP passes to go back-stage to meet the only band on the bill I had heard of, speed-metal forefathers, Helmet. As we were being taken back to meet the band, I warned Mac that I was going to look as excited as I possibly can, but I only had one of their CD's. Luckily, no acting was necessary. For when I walked into that room and shook hands with lead guitarist/vocalist Page Hamilton, I saw it again. That brief glimmer and crooked smile that comes along with the "Hey, you're as old as I am!" look.

And ya know what? He was a really nice, very polite, seemingly subdued guy. Maybe expecting to see dead hookers dipped in cocaine and violent midget knife-fights is too much of a rock 'n roll stereotype, but man was that guy cool! I kept thinking, "Well, I guess we all have to mellow out over time." But when they went on stage, they immediately transformed into the wild sociopaths I expected them to be. That's when I realized, when you reach a certain level of success, it's all a job. Those guys wrapped up our conversation, thanked us for coming back to meet them, and then gave the crowd exactly what they came there to see; loud, pulsating, ear-drum blowing speed metal. Good job, guys.

As for the rest of the show, if not liking bad bands like Chevelle makes me out of touch, then I'm ready to take my rightful place in a nursing home. Still, it's nice to get out there and watch a bunch of kids have a good time.

I'd finally like to relay my roommate's reaction when I told him I was going to the Helmet show. He just smiled and said, "Oooo! You've got dirty little secrets!"
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