for all the music's aggression, in the room it felt really good. it felt like everyone was somehow on the same wavelength.
Tee up Malleus Maleficarum by AFI.
Seeing the first minute of that song last night may have been the best minute of my month.
You hear the symbols on the drum, and you know in an instant.
You hear the riff from the guitar, and you melt in the moment.
I'll be able to transport myself to that moment for the rest of my life, anytime that song hits.
AFI and myself have some history.
I got a lip ring in college, inspired by the vibe of Davie Havok, in a minor bout of experimentation to go "goth”. I once drove 3 hours through a snow storm to see them play in Cincinnati. Their live 2006 Heard a Voice DVD was in constant rotation my senior year of high school (scope on YouTube). Once upon a time I made a Facebook group entitled "I'm not gay, but I would fuck Davie Havok".
Late high school / early college was a tricky time for me.
I loved AFI.
I still love AFI.
Seeing beloved bands from high school can be a tricky thing. High school was 20 years ago (fuck me, just typing that sentence made me feel hella old). A lot can happen in 20 years.
Many times bands don't have an endless catalog of good music, that is very rare.
My list of artists with 5+ albums I truly rock with. Kanye, The Beatles, Metallica, Thrice, White Stripes, Blink 182, AFI. That's it for me. Slim.
So AFI is in an elite category, with 5 albums I love (spanning 1997 to 2003). Teetering on 100 bangers. Heaters. Regular rotation.
But they also have 5 albums I hate (spanning 2007 to 2021). Teetering on 100 limp weiner tracks. Straight trash. Never on rotation.
So going to this concert was a blind bet on their liking to appease the crowd with their old and cherished stuff -- or their new stuff that reflects who they are as artists today. I suppose the outcome was fair. I got a 50/50 split.
50% of the songs they played I stood motionless.
50% of the songs I loved and I moshed and I peaked.
A true mix of emotions -- but the 50% of old school classics were certainly worth the ticket price.
Josh said it was a bucket list item, and anytime I have the chance to mosh with the bros I'm stoked.
Moshing
Moshing is a special thing. I have a black eye developing right now. I love it. Certainly not my first, and hopefully not my last. I got pushed into someone's shoulder, saw stars, quickly regrouped, and kept going.
For me, moshing exists in the past, present, and future. In the present it's one of my favorite things. It's something I will do until I'm physically incapable.
Seeing a band with a bunch of other fans and moshing together is the truest form of expression, community, and love. Generally in the world, there's a very very thin intersection between violence and love, but that special combo can be found in mosh pits. I take immense joy in leveling other humans, picking them up, and hugging them -- as other dudes look to level me, pick me up, and hug me -- and repeat for a full hour.
When do you ever hit random dudes with all of the blunt force you have in you? football and mosh pits.
When do you ever hug random dudes in life? Literally, fucking never -- except for in mosh pits.
8 joys of moshing
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HUGE circle pit -- the whole floor opens up and people just run in a big circle
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The rock out -- the fully flexed out rock out with head bang in the middle of the pit -- if you rock out good enough, you are granted the space
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Death walls -- wish they were more common -- front line, jump and roll, expect pain
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Metallica -- I win the pit every time, I cannot be beat. The best two hours in life can be found in a Metallica mosh pit
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Girls -- if you get in the mosh pit, you are treated as an equal. I am a feminist. I will tank you if you're in my line of fire, male or female.
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The one off -- that one song everyone is sitting on, knowing that when it hits, we going HAM (Thrice wins this every time)
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The "fuck i'm old" breather in the middle of a song because you went super hard for like a minute and lost all your breath
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That core crew that forms within the mosh pit. The OGs. You don’t know them. But you KNOW them. When you know, you know.
As I finish this chapter, "Mosh Pit Killa" by Ramirez cycles in on the shuffle. The new wave of moshing is coming up in rap (in this case, west coast drill) and I love it.