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headoverhiddles · 4 years

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Hey There, Demons - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: You, drummer for the Spooky Kids, aka the Dumbass Idiots, decide with the band to go ghost hunting in LA one night after a show. Bad idea for the most part, good idea for the sole reason of finally putting you and Manson together in a dark room. Feelings? What are those?

Notes: Spooky Kids era! I’ve been watching a lot of Buzzfeed Unsolved, so here you go. Also features a bit of Twiggy x Pogo for good measure.

"I don't believe in ghosts."

You toss a napkin at Brian. "Poser." You're all sitting in an airport, waiting for your flight from Jacksonville to Los Angeles for a show tonight.

He grins. "Nah. I'm just bullshitting, of course I do. I mean, I've never seen one, other than that whole Necronomicon thing when I was a kid, but half of me thinks that was from drinking bong water.”

“Yeah. Well. Imagination is a beautiful thing."

He licks his lips. "Especially when I'm jacking off."

"Gross," you mutter.

"That's not what you said last night."

"You wish," you huff.

"Cool it you two, we all know you're banging," Pogo calls out, and starts making high pitched moaning noises. You (and everyone else in the band) looks at the keyboardist, wondering if it'd attract even more attention to tape his mouth shut. "Ah! Ah! Ah!”

Jeordie joins in. “Oh, god! Oh, Brian! Yes! What a big dick you have!"

"All the better to fuck you with," Brian plays along. Jeordie climbs into Brian’s lap.

"Stop it, big boy, you're turning me on!"

"I don't sound like that," you mutter.

"Ohhh yeeeeah," Jeordie groans out a climax, and Daisy scoffs, slipping on his sunglasses to avoid the odd stares you're getting.

"I'll have what he's having."

"Unless... Brian is the one taking it," Pogo muses, "That's possible." He drops his voice. "Mmmm. Bette, make me your bitch!"

"Yeah, I just love it when (y/n) gets the strap on out and destroys my ass," Brian grumbles. You blush a little, but hide it under a laugh.

"Again. You wish."

“Am I the only one who finds it very hard to believe (y/n) would put out for Bri?” Jeordie asks. It’s Brian’s turn to toss something at his best friend.

“We all know if she had good taste in men, she’d be fucking me already.”

You hold up three fingers. “Read between the lines.”

You and Brian had been skirting around one another since you had joined the band. You had known Jeordie since working at a crappy part time job at a used record shop with him, and had met the others when Brian had moved to Florida from Ohio, which was a few years ago. They had gotten this band together with another drummer who called himself Sarah Lee Lucas.

Recently, Sarah had left the band to pursue something else, and since banging on things with sticks isn't too hard in your books, you convinced the Spooky Kids to hand you the drumsticks as the newly christened member, Bette Davis x Jeffery Dahmer: Bette Dahmer. It hadn't been easy to convince them to let a girl in, since they’re all a bunch of juvenile assholes, but with Jeordie backing you, eventually they caved.

"Back to the matter at hand," Brian says.

"Hand job," Jeordie giggles, picking a scab off. He pouts as it bleeds.

"Later," Brian quips, standing on a chair. You tug him down before a security guard can do it, and he falls on his ass. "Ow, fuck you."

"That's what anal feels like," you say.

"You would know Bets, you probably take it up the ass from fifty guys at a time, ya fuckin whore," Pogo laughs.

"Stephen, Jesus," Daisy chuckles a little. Pogo has zero filter, and sometimes it's refreshing, sometimes it's annoying. You take your wad of gum out, balling it up, and use your hair elastic to slingshot it right in his face. The guy just picks it up and pops it in his mouth.

"Aw!"

"Ew!"

"You're fucking disgusting, man."

"Eat shit and die." Pogo gives you all the finger, and Jeordie speaks up, laying his head in your lap and stretching out over the airport seats.

"Someone said something about ghosts. I like ghosts. Space ghosts."

"Yes!" Brian brings it back. "Thank you Jeordie, back on track. We are all going ghost hunting tonight, after the show."

"Who died and made you god?" Pogo asks.

"God did," Brian snapped. "And when I'm god everyone dies."

"That's profound, poetry-man," you smirk, crossing your arms, "Got any more emo shit to say before Scott gives every reason why we shouldn't break into some haunted building tonight with video cameras?"

"Who has a video camera?" Jeordie asks, wide eyed, "I wanna see how big my dick looks on screen."

"It looks just like your namesake," Brian says. "Twiggy." Jeordie looks crestfallen.

"It's not that small," you assure him, "It's average, but not small."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'd let you have a go, if you weren’t..." You smirk, alluding to the crush Jeordie had on another band member. He goes red.

"If Brian wasn't already balls deep in that," Pogo chides.

"I bet your dick looks like a pickle," you shoot back, sticking your tongue out.

"Wanna check?"

"Okay," Daisy blushes, standing up, "Just cause we're a band, doesn't mean we need to have an orgy."

"What was the point, then?" you joke.

"Anyway. Like Bette said, I really don't think we should be doing this tonight. If we get arrested for trespassing, what'll that do to the band?"

Brian crosses his arms. "Well I'm the leader, and I say it'd give us a cool reputation!”

"Right. Members of the Marilyn Manson family get arrested for... what, looking for ghosts? What a hardcore group of people.”

"We can tell the press we killed someone. Besides, this is the type of shit we’re supposed to do as a metal band. We gotta do dumb, risky things that make us look like bonified Satanists. Otherwise we’re just posers like the rest of ‘em.”

“No, we just have to go on a couple benders in hotel rooms with some blow and a couple tatted up prostitutes, and we’ll fit in.”

“Look, we can do cocaine off girls’ tits and go ghost hunting and still be rock stars, so shut the fuck up Berkowitz, we're doing it," Brian says. Daisy puts his hands up, unwilling to argue with him any more than he already has. So, it’s settled.

You bump your foot against Brian's, and he gives a lopsided smile, brushing the long black hair out of his face and bumping your foot back. Momentarily, his attention is diverted.

"Will someone go get Jeordie? He's pissing in the water fountain."

You look out at the crowd. This is a bigger audience than usual here in LA.

“Lots of motherfuckers came out to see us,” Bri comes by to whisper at you, parting his hair and making sure his lipstick is nice and smeared. You nod, and toss him his big floppy top hat. He sticks it on his head as you’re introduced.

“All the way from the South Florida music scene, we’ve got Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids!”

Jeordie starts the first song, Negative Three, off with a bassline intro, and you start the band off with a four count on your drumsticks, then hit the drums as Brian begins to wail into the mic.

“Give me your blood, your teeth, your high school pictures...”

You watch him, not skipping a beat on your rhythm. Daisy headbangs as you launch into the chorus, and Twiggy fiddles with his bass guitar across the stage, dressed in one of his ragdoll dresses. Pogo is to the right of you, hammering away at his keys and jolting around. You always have a good time performing with the guys, but Brian’s got your attention tonight.

He keeps looking back at you, for some reason.

You almost don’t realize the change in song and the fact that you’d been playing it, and nearly jump when Brian screams into the mic: “I bring you!”

You look away from his shirtless figure, and focus on putting on a good show with them as the crowd moshes in front of you.

After the show, everyone stops back at the motel quickly, drying off and getting changed. You all reconvene after getting into more comfortable clothes, avoid the small group of fans waiting to follow you, and get ready to leave.

“You were great tonight,” Brian says.

“Really? I nearly missed the beginning of Lunchbox,” you huff.

“Nah, I didn’t notice it. If I had, I would’ve yelled at you til you cried.” He gives a shit eating grin.

The Viper Room. The five of you stare at it. The sun has long since set after the show, and you're in front of the LA nightclub with amateur ghost hunting equipment. (AKA, anything you could find at a five and dime store on the sunset strip this late at night).

"River Phoenix died here,” Jeordie mentions.

“And Johnny Depp owns the place," Daisy remarks.

"I know him," Brian says.

"River Phoenix?” Pogo asks, stroking his beard. “Yeah? You climb into his grave often?"

"Depp, I know Johnny Depp."

"If you know Johnny Depp, then Twiggy's Luke Skywalker," Pogo scoffs.

"Like my father before me," Twiggy mumbles.

"No, I know him! I was an extra on his show, 21 Jump Street. He's cool, we're friends."

"Suuuure."

Even Jeordie snickers at that, after emerging from his Star Wars fantasy. "Fuck you guys," Brian mutters, "If Johnny was here right now--"

"Oh, you're on a first name basis, huh?"

"If Johnny was here right now, you fucking clown asshole, he'd say hi Brian, and tell you to go fuck yourself."

"He'd say ‘hi Brian’?" you tease, and he smiles.

"Yes, he would. He's nice."

“Would he like me?”

“Anyone would like you.”

"Does he think this place is haunted?"

"I don't know," the singer hums, "I never asked."

You pick the lock, all enter, and shut the door behind you. It's pitch black, and frankly a little nerve-wracking.

"We shouldn't be here," Daisy sing songs.

"One more word out of you and we're feeding you to the ghosts," Pogo says.

"The same could be said for you," you say to the keyboardist. He shoots a dirty look your way that you can't see through the dark. "I did some reading,” you admit, and everyone turns to you. “Apparently there’s a body buried downstairs, in the crawlspace.”

“Johnny’s a killer,” Jeordie whispers in awe.

“That’s fucking rad,” Brian mutters, “I have even more respect for the guy now.”

“It wasn’t Johnny, don’t say that shit out loud in Hollywood or you’ll get sued,” you say, rolling your eyes. “So aside from the bones, the ghostly activity is downstairs in the basement, the VIP room, and by the bar.”

"I know where I'll be," Jeordie smiles, and walks over to the bar. "Pour me a stiff one River, and don't spare the rum."

Pogo sighs. "C'mon, Daisy. The odd couple are going down to the basement."

"Uh, now I think I should be the one to stay at the bar." Daisy shakes his head. "If Jeordie does, we'll have smashed bottles and cop sirens."

"Fine," Jeordie complains, shoving his red and black dreads out of his face.

“Whatever, dude. It’s just a bunch of bullshit anyway,” Pogo mutters, “It’s like Santa Clause, parents invent ghosts and all that shit to scare kids into behaving themselves, the ever present fascism of the oppressed American youth...” Jeordie follows the ranting keyboardist downstairs, shooting you a desperate look. You just smile, giving a little good luck wave.

“That leaves you and me in the VIP room,” you say, turning to Brian.

“That it does,” he replies, licking his lip ring. “Just don’t try to hold my hand. That’s sick.”

“If you touch me, I’ll scream,” you retort, and walk ahead of him. He admires your ass with the flashlight, and you smile a little.

Downstairs in the basement, Pogo starts banging on the walls.

“Hello! My friends, my ghoulish friends! My... ghoulfriends, if you will. ANYONE WHO’S GOT THEIR BONES BURIED BACK HERE, MAKE A NOISE! Fart or something!” He swings his arms around.

“Did Johnny Depp kill you?” Jeordie asks, eyes wide. He twitches at a car honk outside.

Pogo bounces up and down. “Come attack me, bones! Make me one of you! Come on, murder me and bury me, daddy! I’m into that kinky shit! I am here for the taking!”

“That sounds a little forceful,” Jeordie whispers.

“On my part, or their part?” Silence.

“Good point.”

They keep walking around, and Jeordie trips on something. Pogo keeps banging and yelling obnoxiously. “GOBLINS, GHOULIES, FROM LAST HALLOWEEN! AWAKEN THE SPIRITS WITH YOUR TAMBOR—hey Jeordie, what the fuck are you doing on the ground?”

“I just like the taste of carpet,” Jeordie retorts, sarcasm apparently not evident enough for Pogo to catch it.

“Jesus, what are you on? I want some.”

“Help me up?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the mad clown mutters, and leans down. Jeordie takes his arm, and the two look at each other for a few seconds, the flashlight beneath them illuminating the specks of dust floating through the inch or so between their faces. “Uh...” Pogo whispers, deep voice grumbling.

“Yeah,” Jeordie swallows, and the two stand again, looking away from one another.

Upstairs, you and Brian enter the VIP room.

“Hey there demons, it’s me. Marilyn Manson,” he says, “This is my concubine, Bette Dahmer. Scare us.”

You glare at him. “Actually, scare me. You can just kill him.” The two of you look around with the flashlight a bit, inspecting the dark wallpaper and decor.

“This is kinda spooky,” Brian admits.

“It’s nice,” you say, stroking the dust off a lamp, “Very gothic. I can see why movie stars like this place.”

“Yeah.” Brian turns the flashlight on and off, finally setting it on a small table and letting the beam keep the room dimly lit. “Lots of old Hollywood glamour. You’d fit right in.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you’d look pretty in an old Marilyn Monroe dress. Or at least one of Jeordie’s.”

“What if Marilyn Monroe came here?” you giggle.

“Hey, Mar! Thanks for the name!” Brian calls, “If we get rich and famous, we’ll give you the royalties!” You lounge out on one of the couches, and he eyes you. “You could be sitting on a ghost right now,” he says, “You could have a ghost inside you.”

“Mm?”

“You could be sitting right on his big ghost cock.”

“That’s hot.”

“You could have me inside you too, if you wanted.”

“Y’know, I think we’ve been on the road too long,” you laugh, “Pogo’s jokes are getting to you.”

“It’s not the jokes.”

“Yeah, well. If I’m starting to look hot to you, you must be delirious.”

“Nah... I really do think you’re hot, Bets.”

He sits next to you, and you look over at him. “Seriously?”

He ducks his head. “Yeah.”

“I... feel the same way. I mean, I was never ever gonna tell you, cause soon, with any luck, we’ll be big rock and roll stars, and you-- well, you know how it works. You’ll have a million groupies, you’ll be drowning in free pussy.”

“Fuck the groupies. I want your pussy.”

You laugh. “You say that now.”

“Yeah, I do. Til someone better comes along, which I doubt will happen.” He lifts his eyes to meet yours. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. It was weird onstage—usually I can hide it, but tonight... I don’t know. You sitting there, in that top, with your eyes... you were just...” He looks down again, his old shyness coming back. You don’t know what to say. You can only stare at his lips.

Over at the bar, Daisy sits patiently, watching the glass he’s set on a napkin. “Hello, ghosts. It’s me, Scott. You can call me Daisy if you like. If you can hear me, move the cup.”

He stares at the cup. The cup does not move.

Downstairs, Pogo and Twiggy are awkwardly trying to continue their ghost hunt without talking about the moment they just had.

“So, uh, so ghoulies. Where ya from?” Pogo shouts. “Is SATAN in the room with us? We are BIG FANS, sir.” Jeordie starts giggling about something. “What is it?!”

“I just heard a bang above us.”

“That means the demons have come out to play, Jeordie-boy!” Pogo cackles, hopping up on a booth seat and drumming the ceiling.

“No. It means Bette and Manson are screwing around,” Twigs laughs. Then his face gets dead serious. “What if, uh...”

“What if what?” Pogo glances over suspiciously.

“What if... they weren’t the only ones?”

You gasp, standing up and staring at the shattered lamp that had just fallen off the table. “Oh my god. That wasn’t me.”

“Wasn’t me.”

“They’re totally gonna think we’re screwing around up here.”

“Maybe we are,” Brian gets up too, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“Y-you wanna?” you back up. He nods, and falls on top of you on the other couch.

At the bar, Daisy sits, staring at the cup. He patters his fingers on his knees. “It’s okay, ghosts,” he says, smiling politely, “I can wait.”

He stares at it some more. The cup does not move.

In the room, you reach your hand up Brian’s back underneath his black t-shirt. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Shut up and take my pants off.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up. Take your own pants o... ohhh, god, yeah.” Brian reaches up to massage your breasts, and you throw your head back, undoing his fly. “How long have you wanted to do this?”

“Since the day I walked into the dumb record shop and stole that David Bowie EP.”

“What the fuck?! I got fired for that!”

Downstairs, Pogo runs a hand over his smooth bald head. “I don’t know, man. This sounds very gay to me.”

“I mean,” Jeordie scuffs his shoe on the ground, “It doesn’t have to be. Or like, it could be. If you’re cool with that.”

“If I’m cool with being a homo?”

“...Yeah.”

Pogo looks up at Jeordie, and sighs. “For you?” He glances around the dark, creepy basement, then back to the bassist. “I could be cool with that.”

Daisy changes tactics. “Here. Don’t like moving cups? That’s okay, neither do I sometimes. Let’s try this again.” He smiles. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, god... Brian!” you moan from the VIP room.

“Br... Brian!” Daisy says, excitedly, standing up. “You have the same name as my friend! Oh god... okay, um... how did you die, Brian?”

“Get inside me,” you groan, and Brian takes his boxers down, kissing you as he sinks into your tight heat. The two of you moan, base instincts taking over.

“In... inside you?!” Daisy repeats, eyes lighting up at the apparent paranormal activity he’s discovered. “Oh! You died from an overdose, just like River, didn’t you? You had too many narcotics inside you!”

Downstairs, Pogo steps forward, and swallows. Jeordie closes his eyes, and waits. Suddenly, a car screeches through a red light outside, and Jeordie practically jumps into Pogo’s arms, forcing the two together at the lips. Pogo’s eyes fly open, and Jeordie’s close again, enjoying the kiss. They break away, and stare at one another. Pogo swears, and goes in for another kiss.

“Harder,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around the singer’s neck. He pushes his hips in faster.

“You like it rough, sweetheart?”

“Yeah Bri, I like it rough, yeah...”

He reaches down, finding your sweet spot. You arch into him, scratching your nails up his slender back. He keeps pounding into you, and grunts into your neck.

“Baby, baby, baby...”

“Do you have a message for me, or for any members of our band?” Daisy asks, and lowers his voice conspiratorially. “You know... some insider’s industry tips?” He winks.

“Goood, you’re so fucking good!”

Daisy raises his eyebrows. “I... well thank you! Thank you very much, we really try to reach people with our music.”

“What the fuck are you blabbering about?” Pogo mutters on the stairs, wiping Twiggy’s lipstick off his chin. Daisy beckons them over.

“Shhh! Watch this. I’m sorry I ever doubted you guys... the spirits are so active in this place! Forget making records. We could be mediums!” Jeordie joined Pogo over by the bar as Daisy went on. “Okay—if you’re here with us now, give us a sign.”

There’s a loud bang, followed by a creak and a faint gasp. Jeordie and Pogo look at one another, actually a little bit freaked out by the response. Then comes the “communication.”

“I’m coming, oh-- I’m coming!”

“Where?!” Daisy cries, “Show yourself, come!” Pogo sighs, and Jeordie falls to the floor, laughing.

“I think they already did, pal.” The keyboardist raises his painted on eyebrows, and points to the VIP room. You stumble out, hair messed to hell, and Brian comes out behind you, buckling up his belt. Daisy stares at the two of you for the longest time, before getting up and walking toward the door.

The rest of you go to walk out, deeming the place a paranormal dud, when a gust of wind blows behind you. Brian’s about to turn around, accusing Jeordie of leaving a window open or something, but there’s nothing there. Then, everything happens at once. Daisy’s cup tips over the side of the counter and shatters. The door to the VIP room slams shut, and you all start to hear thumping footsteps coming up the stairs from the basement.

You and Brian grab at each other, running out first while laughing. Pogo shoves Jeordie over and bolts out. A few seconds later, he runs back in, grabbing the bassist by the hand and dragging him out too. Daisy stays, getting out the video camera. Brian walks back in, guiding the guitarist out calmly, and closes the club’s front door with a click.

“Hey uh, Bri?” you say, taking his arm. He grunts, putting an arm around you. “Next time you see your friend Johnny Depp... maybe don’t mention that we fucked in his haunted club. Kay?”

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jungkookiebus · 4 years

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Since he’s been on my mind like all day.... no more dream dance break hobi.... idk what else but ya girl NEEDS no more dream hobi.😭

ayyyyyyye babyyyyyyyy. doing this late since I didn’t finish the other night. high as a kite again tonight, I apologize for how weird this story may or may not be lmaoooooo

high Katie answers asks! or some shit like that.

Genre: idol!au, established relationship, smutPairing: idol!Hobi x readerWord Count: 1.4k i went overboardWarnings: No More Dream dance break, vaginal sex, dirty talk, Hobi is a slut

Imagine it. 2020 and guess what came back in a medley at the concerts? No More Dream. Guess what came back with it? The outfit… When you started dating Hobi, he was up to his elbows in the Persona era, but you were, of course, well aware of his many forms. The first time you saw it, really saw it, you were star struck and punched straight through the chest. Nothing prepared you for seeing this on stage, through your tv screen, but nothing prepared for something quite like this. The time between the original stage and now was drastic and before you were seven fully grown men dancing to the dance break of your wet dreams. Hobi stood before you, on stage, dripping with sweat and never missing a beat. Tight, ripped black jeans hugged his thighs. A black t-shirt tucked snugly into the top of his jeans and a studded coat donned his shoulders. Around his neck hung two, delicate gold chains but all your eyes could focus on were his exposed knees. The rip of his pants was just high enough for you to see the beginnings of the muscles in his thighs.

You had opted for floor seats tonight, so here you were, a little way back in the crowd and watching with your jaw on the floor just like everyone else around you. A hardcore Hobi fan happened to be standing next to you and you both screamed together as the first notes of the song began.

“OH MY GODDDDDDDD!!! HOBI IN THIS DANCE BREAK!” she screamed beside you.

You were suddenly very hot. Your skin flushed so hotly that you almost felt cold and you felt an intense need so strong inside of you, that you were almost confused. Then it happened. All the screams around you were drowned out as your mind seemed to slow down, the shouts reducing to a low roar, and your vision seemed to blur at the edges as you only focused on him. Hobi was giving it his all it seemed. It was the first show after all. The way he moved tonight almost seemed like he knew you were watching. Of course, he knew you were in the crowd, but you never told him where you would be. On occasion, he had accidentally found you and waved like a goon. You never waved back lest you be attacked in a sea full of ARMY.

You spent the rest of the concert pacing the back area, wandering outside for fresh air, and then starting it all over again. You had to leave the cramped environment and the screaming girl beside you before you had a full blown panic attack. You hadn’t been this turned on for some time, but god damn did that dance break get to you. When the concert was over, you stood closer to where they would be coming off stage and into the rest and food area waiting to welcome them. They came sooner than you expected, tumbling into the room, all arms as they hugged and Jimin came in on the back of Jungkook. Hobi walked in with Namjoon laughing about something so he had yet to notice you. When he did, though, he was leaping and bounding across the room to gatheryou in his arms. Pinned against his chest, you looked up and he leaned down tokiss you. Even though he had your arms pinned at your side, you tried to givethe kiss your all. He was breathless when he pulled back from you.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked, looking into your blown pupils as he still held you snugly against him. All you could do was stare up into his face, too caught up with emotions and horniness to even give a response a second thought. But Hobi didn’t need an explanation to know exactly what you were feeling. “Let us take the picture.” He kissed your forehead before releasing you and skipping back over to the couch where everyone else had their banners ready for the group picture. Maybe two minutes had passed when Hobi was on you again, grabbing your hand, and pulling you back into the hallway. He pulled on the first door he came to and luckily it opened wide. Inside looked to be an old breakroom converted to a dumping ground of odd furniture that had no use. He pulled you to the nearest couch and onto his lap. His hands were immediately on your ass as you straddled him and ground your core against him.

“Fuck,” he whispered. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, wanting to get impossibly close as you moved your hips against him.

Your lips were on his again as you kissed him passionately. With your body humming a tune only Hobi seemed to hear, he thrust upwards against you and you cried out at the pleasure that dimly shot through you. You were a few layers of cotton away from what you wanted. He pushed you upwards and reached for the band of the sweats he had slipped on when he’d gotten off stage, pulling them down enough to get them to his knees. Above him, you were also removing clothes.

“Leave your panties on,” he panted as his cock sprang free.

“Ready when you are,” you said against his lips, raising your hips above him.

He grabbed the base of his cock and pulled your panties aside, lining himself with your entrance.

“Sit on it, baby.”

You sank down slow, even though you wanted to fall on his cock and never get back up ever again. Hobi’s head fell back against the couch causing his hair to fluff up and fall to the sides.

“Oh, fuck, just ride me baby I can practically feel you shaking.” He half breathed out, half moaned everything he said, eyes closed, and enjoying the feeling of you around him.

You braced yourself on his shoulders as you tried to find a pace good for you. It was only maybe a minute before Hobi had your left ass cheek in one hand, gripping tightly, and the other on the back of your neck forcing your face down to his. Your lips came down hard on his as his tongue quickly slipped into your mouth. He began to thrust up into you with such force you were practically bouncing on his dick as he used your ass cheek as leverage to pull you onto him.

“I’m g-gonna c-c-come,” you hiccupped as he hit harder and harder against your g-spot.

“Then fucking do it,” he growled.

Images of him during the dance break played across the backof your eyelids as you closed your eyes. You subconscious seemed to have stored away some details you missed, or you were just making up what you wanted to see. This time, you could see in detail the sweat rolling down his face and the way his hair stuck to the back of his neck. His tongue darted out to the corner of his mouth…and that cocky grin, that fucking cocky ass grin he alwaysdid. You came hard. Body shaking, mind numbing, moaning out through clenched teeth, hard.

“Fuuuck, baby, tell me what you’re thinking about,” he said brokenly.

Your body was still being battered. Hobi could endure anything, even after a concert. Still clinging to his shoulders and bouncing at such a steady speed, you spoke.

“Y-you in that f-fucking No More D-Dream dance break.”

Hobi thrust faster. He may have always made fun of Jimin’s praise kink, but you never told anyone Hobi’s secret. He always liked to ask you what you were thinking about as he was fucking you because it usually involved him in some form or another.

“That’s what got you all worked up?” His white shirt was entirely soaked through with sweat. His hair stuck to his forehead and he could barely open his eyes.

“Seeing you up there dancing like that? I wanted to fuck you immediately.”

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed as his thrusts slowed but seemed to go deeper. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He came with a loud grown, pulling you down on him as far as he could go, and spilled inside of you.

“That…that was good,” you panted.

“Yea? Now I know what video to casually put on next time I want to get you wet.”

“Honestly,” you laughed, “all you’d really have to do is just look at me.”

#ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #bts smut #bts au #bts scenarios #high ask #request #hobi smut #reader insert #idol!au #idol!hobi #yeet #wontaek-my-life-away

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robomin · 4 years

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i rate svt’s title songs out of 10

adore u: so cute. the bass?? FUNKY!! poppin!!! a good, wholesome cheery song that wasn’t overly fluffy or hardcore,, a Good debut. mv was so cute and their wide-eyed enthusiasm??? yes. solid 8/10

mansae: rocked a lil less hard,, i can never remember how this song starts if i haven’t heard it in a while oops... but really cute still because they were still in their Baby stage and were all so eager and wide-eyed fuck i miss that seventeen :( love the vibe and the dance, not so much the song :/ soz woozi 7/10 but would’ve given it a 6.5 if mingyu and jeonghan’s hair weren’t so FLY then

pretty u: i can will and have cried over this song. IMPECCABLY written. my pick me up song and my top song on spotify for 2 years. literally makes me smile every time i listen to it. is peak seventeen for me, sorry!!! loved the vibe the mv (oh dude. looooove) the innocence and the unbridled joy the whole era seemed to exude. plays in the happiest corner of my brain a definite 430528/10

aju nice: oh dude this shit hits smooooth!!! my first comeback with them and dude i loved the song. legendary. loved the concept of using suspenders, the upbeat summer popsicle vibe they had going and how good they all looked in the mv. + the girl in the mv was gorg. 10/10

boom boom: sorry. feels like a transition song (lol remember when this was the darkest we went with seventeen oof tbt) that,, while catchy just doesn’t have a place in my heart. didn’t feel grounded enough if you catch my gist. definitely ranks low for me out of all svt’s songs. oh but going seventeen. Best album. Deadass. love all the songs on there,, strong contender for my fav album. 5/10 but neo ne biorhythm slaps. so 5.5/10

don’t wanna cry: ah... the first time i heard it i Did Not like it. too edm for my taste and way too metallic and tinny - i thought they were becoming generic and boring and i was honestly disappointed BUT it grew on me!!! it did take a while but i really liked it in 2018 lol. also that dance??? fkin RAD. also the song that booooooosted svt’s popularity like mad so 9/10 good job woozi u r a genius

clap: LOVE. love the concept, the entire album, just the whole strong vibe that still maintains a certain upbeatness to it (unlike boomboom which was a lil flat for me) and dude they all looked so GOOD this era. unbelievable. nothing bad to say about the song at all. 10/10

thanks: sorry. absolutely not my thing. fell flat for me, and while i appreciate the sentiment and i Get that,,, i just... the song doesn’t do anything for me and the album is one of my least favourites. i do like that photo of mingyu or wonwoo holding a guitar awkwardly though and that pic of woozi on the piano but sorry i have to give u a 4/10. it just doesn’t do it for me :/

home: oh! love! gentle but still does a thing,,, not one of my favourites but i can vibe with it sometimes. also they got 10 wins for this song!!!!!! crazy!!! a really good wintery song,, it’s a 6.5/10 for me

oh my!: dude. loved this. i was so glad they did a cheerful concept again!! super catchy and cute and just. it hits different from their first three songs but is somewhat reminiscent of that vibe still. just a lot more grown up. made me miss pretty u them a shit ton. oh and the mixing on this song is craaazy. 9/10!!

fear: ok points for trying a dark concept and going vixx AND good job with the craazy good album too but .. not a big fan of the sound i guess. HOWEVER song still slaps. maybe it just sucks to see them grow up. 8/10.

#i don't think i missed anything..?#seventeen #svt #s.coups #jeonghan #joshua hong #jun #hoshi #wonwoo #woozi #dk #dokyeom #mingyu #the8 #seungkwan #vernon #dino #chan #lee chan #jyn speaks

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peaches-of-1 · 5 years

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Training: Golden Dicks Award (pt 2)

And we’re back. My mstrlst is in my bio, so you can catch up there. Also I reblogged it before posting this, so you can just scroll down a bit. This is shorter than the first part.

All the usual warnings apply: Voyerism, orgy, lesbian sex, blood mention, chastity, hypnotism.

If you want something specific tagged, lemme know!

After eating what could be categorized as dinner, you put yourself together again. There’d be a rush at intermission, but you were ready as your hypnosis went deeper. Apparently, you had called out some of your owners’ names instead of the one given to you to say. So you were given more layers a sleep. A fog would permanently be in your mind.

“Alligator”

“Crocodile”

Intermission. First was half of one of the larger groups. Then the second half. No time for clean up. You weren’t sure if they had used your ass or not. They liked your lap dances more and parading you around than actual sex.

Third group during intermission wanted you clean, so a quick shower with lots of help. Then you were dried off. They wanted a fashion show first.

Blue see through pants with a bikini top. Then a slutty schoolgirl outfit featuring a micro skirt that showed off your ass. You felt the semen shifting inside. Nothing but pearls were your next outfit. They were cascading off of every body part.

“Sit on my lap, beautiful.”

“Yes, sir.” I was to call them sir.

This blonde haired one was all muscle, his thighs were strong and firm. He hugged you around the waist. The other gave lust filled grins.

“[Redacted] was right about you, cutie. You look good in everything, so fuckable.” The smaller one was to your left and he scratched your chin.

Their tall and pale member kissed up your legs as the one hugging your waist kissed your neck. The one on your right was also quite muscular, and his lips were very adorable. The three others were looking for your next outfit. The one they would fuck you in.

“They said you can take anything.” Baby lips said.

“I can, sir.” You replied. “I’ll do anything you want me to.”

Dimples came out with Smiley and Legs. Your brain had given them secondary names to make sure you could tell one from the other. Legs was the only rapper wearing shorts. IT seems they went for more of a school boy uniform this era.

It was Smiley who held up the pink latex dress up and said to get ready quickly. How much time had passed? Had they already performed? Was that why they were taking their time?

Either way, you changed into the tight and bright outfit, and went back out to see them.

“Fuck…” Dimples said and licked his lips. “Nice choice [redacted].”

“Thank you. Thank you.”

They all turned to the smaller one, saying he got to give the first orders. He wanted a tit job, so you got on your knees in front of him. Sir pulled out his cock, and you began rubbing it with your latex covered tits.

“Oh god, [redacted] was right!” His voice shot up to his higher octaves. “Holy shit.”

“Wow, hyung” said the lanky and pale member. “She’s that good, huh?”

He grinned, “Oh, yeah. It feels good.”

The other men started rubbing themselves. You focused on your breasts and the dick between them. You stuck your tongue out and touched the tip to it.

Legs asked, “Cutie, how many times has cum gone in your ass?”

“I...I don’t know.” It upset you a bit. “I was supposed to get 7, but so many, and I’m not sure. At least 5?”

He scratched your scalp, “It’s ok if you don’t remember. It sorta got messy, huh?”

You nodded and thought to yourself how much of an understatement that was.

“I think you should get this thing off. You’ve worked so hard. [Redacted] himself even tried to break you.”

“He’s got a harem, I’m pretty sure.” Smiley said.

You spoke, “I have to be sure, though.”

“Don’t worry.” The oldest said. “You will be.”

The muscly one from earlier added, “We’ll top you off.” His voice came from behind you.

You dress had rolled up to your waist and he unplugged you. It came out like a waterfall. It made your cheeks warm for such a thing to have occurred.

“Well…” He said. “More than 7.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

He shook his hand, “I guess we don’t need lube, then.”

Strong hands grabbed your waist and he lined his cock up to plunge inside you. You moaned and wanted to giggled because he rolled your dress back down. Why? It didn’t matter.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum~” the man in front said. “Open up.”

You parted your lips and stuck out you tongue even further. Sir slid inside and thrust his hips. You were being spit roasted by physical opposites, and it was quite entertaining. As he came in your mouth, two more replace it. The lanky one and Smiley’s.

How many cocks had been shoved down your throat tonight? Even more had been simply sucked on by your golden lips. Was it because it couldn’t reach your throat? Maybe. Maybe it’s just cuz they liked head better. You’d never tell mostly because they’d be nonexistent memories by this time tomorrow.

“Having fun, pup?” A familiar voice asked.

“O…oppa?” Command 16.3a.

“That’s right, pup.”

You heard his footsteps come closer, and you were made to stand up. His face was the only one you saw clearly. Yoongi. Your heart leapt, but you also felt embarrassed. You were so dirty.

He smiled, “Did you miss me?”

Your whole body reached out to hug him. He laughed a bit and kissed your lips. You were so hungry for his kiss, his touch, his everything.

Yoongi smiled, “Calm down, pup.” He looked into your eyes and then sunk to his knees. “Since you’ve been such a good little puppy, your belt is coming off.”

He unlocked it and chuckled at how wet you were, and then he placed it on the side. Your oppa kissed you again.

“I’m about to perform, so I gotta go. Have fun, darling.”

As he turned around, everything went foggy again.

Sir Legs grabbed you and threw you on the bed, “Sorry for being so rough, cutie, but I am gonna be the first to claim that pussy tonight.”

You spread your legs wide open, “Hurry~Sir~”

He growled and began fucking your dripping we pussy. You whole body shivered and you moaned so loudly. It was more like a scream to be honest.

“Fuck~yesssss~”

“And I’ll be the second.” Baby lips said as he slipped into you as well.

It felt like you would foam at the mouth with how good your body felt. A vibrating egg was shoved into your ass. Tears filled your eyes as cock was jammed down your throat as well. You couldn’t tell what was happening beyond the ballsack dangling in front of your face and hitting your nose with every thrust.

Bedsheet was balled up in your hands. You felt like you were gonna die like this. You clawed at the body on top of your own, begging Sir to go deeper. Probably drawing blood as fireworks went off behind your eyes. You clamped down on every cock inside of you as your back arched as much as it could.

Cock slid out of your mouth just to be pounded back in. You gagged as you climaxed, making it feel as though you were floating. They came as yours was just starting to end. You were slathered in their cum. Buckets was an understatement. The others had been rubbing themselves with their hands and quickly replaced all the cocks in your holes. They came so soon after.

The waves of pleasure was still being ridden. Heavy panting surrounded your spasming body. Their cum flowed out of all your holes. You couldn’t tell who hugged you and comforted you until you heard a sound like the crumpling of paper. Condom wrapper? Command 1.2 Soft Reset. All of your muscles began to relax and your consciousness began to slip.

“I’ll take care of her.” Jihye said. “You’re needed in the green room.”

You served a group of Gen 1 idols and then more girls. More outfits. Korean school girl uniform and riding the tip of a super expensive dress shoe. She was so pretty and so sexy dressed in a tight black skirt and white dress shirt with the top three unbuttoned to show off her lacy black bra.

“I changed out of my heels for this, so do better.”

“Yes, ma’am!” you moaned and started working harder.

She had said you weren’t allowed to cum until she gave you permission. Even though this was her show costume, she used it for immersion. You were going crazy trying to hold on since you hadn’t cum since eight people ago.

Your teacher sighed, “I just wanna make a cute girl squirt over my shoes. Is that too much to ask?” Then she held your face to look at her tanned and dark lipped face. “Beg for me.”

“Please, ma’am. Please let me cum! I can’t hold--ahhh. I’ll do anything. Just let me cum. Please. Please. Please. Please ma’am. Please.”

She smirked, “Cum for me.”

You gripped the chair and squirted hardcore. It became even more intense when she said a cue word. You were yourself with your eyes shut tight. It felt as though you were on fire even though you were soooo wet. You rested your head on her thigh. What just happened?

She made you look at her face and your eyes widened, “Hw--”

“See you later alligator!” the voice screamed from their booth.

You blanked on her name. When you came back to your consciousness, you were sitting where Ma’am had been. She was being escorted out by two guards.

She giggled, “I’ll bring the others next time.”

The voice explained, “Everything’s ok, (Y/N). Guests usually don’t know cue words. Even if they do, they’re not supposed to use them. I’m sure she meant no harm, but it’s a liability.”

“I understand. Am I in trouble?”

“No. No. Not you, darling. You were perfect. You’ve got a super special guest. Treat him well.” The voice made you go deeper.

A large man entered, “I’ve never done this before.”

I doubt that. You thought.

“That’s ok. What would you like me to call you? Any name other than your birth name or stage name will work.”

“Um, D-Daddy?” that tattooed man said.

You made sure to smile since he was nervous, “Ok, Daddy. What would you like to call me? I cannot give you my real name.”

He looked at you, “Will Kitten be ok?” his husky voice asked.

“Of course! I’m now your kitten, Daddy. Would you like me to change?” You looked at yourself now only in your white not so covering cover up. They must’ve...you looked at Daddy. “I have many outfits, Daddy. Oh. Please sit, Daddy.”

You were turned eager to please and were more chipper to fit your given role.

“Yes. Of course.” The large man sat on the bed after taking off his shoes.

You looked at him eagerly, “If you wanna pick an outfit for me--”

“No. Just...sit on my lap?” He pat his meaty thighs.

With a nod, you made yourself comfortable. He held you close to him and got you to lay with him. Daddy seemed tense.

“I just had a rough day, so we can just cuddle. Is that ok, or do I have to fuck you?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, Daddy.”

He sighed with relief, “Good. Cuddling it is.”

Daddy rubbed your back and talked about his difficult and high stress day. Although he was a large and rough looking man who was 1000% Daddy, it was like he was the kitten. He was pretty sure he hurt his ankle while dancing on stage.

“You need to be more careful, Daddy.” You pouted.

“Is that so, Kitten?” He chuckled.

You nodded.

“Then I’ll be more careful.” Daddy kissed your forehead.

You smiled, “Good. Are you feeling better, Daddy?”

He nodded, “I am actually.” Then something caught his eye as he smiled at you. “Lift your neck, Kitten?”

You did and he felt your collar.

“Those boys...your owners. They take good care of you?”

“They do.” You said to the man who wasn’t actually an idol but had gained lots of popularity through social media.

“Good.” He purred. “If they ever hurt you, come to me, and I’ll deal with ‘em.”

You spoke honestly, “They never would. They love me. I love them.”

He smiled suddenly. It seemed to surprise himself as well, “They better.” Then he sat up. “Ok. I should go before I mess around and fall in love.”

The man stood up and fixed his shirt.

“Did you have a good time, Daddy?”

“The best, Kitten.” He kissed your cheek. “Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your night and remember what I said.”

You grinned, “I will!” unsure if you actually would or not.

He closed the door behind him. Well, that was a nice time before it was three groups of 8+ members back to back. The girl group loved to use their nails and knew how to use toys you have never seen before. They also really liked kissing. So softly leaving trails of pink and red all over your body.

An extremely famous couple was the last to come in and had you play with the man while his wife masturbated and watched. She shouted commands to him, and he was all too happy to follow them. He had been taken out of chastity today and this was his reward. The freckles on his face made his eyes stand out more. He was dressed up like a puppy, collar and all. It was ok since they were both initiating it with you, right? The man had a bone shaped gag and beautiful whines.

It was almost hilarious the amount of times she told you to look at him instead of her. She ended up collaring you to him to make sure you obeyed. Then she slid in between both of your faces as you ate out both of her ends. He seemed like the type that liked to eat ass. They kissed your lips and left you to the officials to clean up.

Then it was time to go home. You hadn’t even done much today, but your body was tired. Your eyes opened and Jin walked in.

“How’s our girl?” He asked.

You began to run to him, but your legs gave out. Right you had legs.

Jungkook and Jin rushed to help you back onto the bed. They said you had gon in really deep and it’d take you twenty more minutes for you to have control over your body again. Right. This was your body. It didn’t belong to anyone else but you.

“No matter how many times we lay claim to you, it’s still your body.” Taehyung said, reading your expressions easily.

Namjoon added, “No one can take that away from you.”

You cried despite how happy you were. Had it really been scary at all? No. Not really. Just overwhelming. There were so many people you had made love to, but you couldn’t recall their faces or names. Someone hugged you.

“It’s ok, (Y/N).” Jimin cooed. “You did so well. We’re so proud of you.”

They all gave you space along with comforting words. Then you put on your dress and kept the collar on. It felt like a security blanket right now. Yoongi held your hand as the eight of you were ushered into a room to wait for you carts to pull up.

Heechul approached the group and you all bowed.

“You did such a wonderful job tonight!” He met your eyes. “All of you. His gaze met Namjoon’s.

He whispered something to BTS’s leader as Yoongi couldn’t hide his scowl. Did he not like Heechul? How can you not like Heechul? He’s annoying but also endearing.

“I hope there are no hard feelings. I always like to check in with the own...lovers afterwards and make sure I didn’t cross any boundaries with my performance.” He was being very honest.

What did he do? Did he parody BTS on stage?

Yoongi softened and held out his hand, “No hard feelings.”

The two men shook hands.

You snuggled your oppa’s arm. Heechul bowed to all of you and went on his way. He “accidentally” dropped something and asked his manager to pick it up. She leaned over and her pussy was glistening. So that was his pet? He grabbed the butt of another and a third leaned in close to him, giggling. A harem?

~~~~~~~

Now all eight of you were in the living room falling asleep after eating a filling takeout meal. Your pajamas were super cozy.

“(Y/N)?” Hobi whispered. “We love you. More than anything.”

“I love you too.” You replied, slightly confused but glad he said so.

He smirked, “We know. Even if you never said it again, we’d know.”

Jimin pulled you closer in his kitty lingerie that he had been wearing under his clothing all night. He must’ve been done with his dom mood. Namjoon made sure to cuddle the both of you on his chest. Jungkook was letting his leader sleep on his stomach while his head was on Jin’s. Tae’s hand was holding yours even while he slept. Yoongi was curled up behind Jimin. All your boys were there. You felt like your heart would explode from pure bliss.

As you fell asleep, you wondered why Hwasa’s smiling face popped up in your mind.

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technicolorfamiliar · 6 years

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Global Spirit Tour: 2017 - 2018

Prologue:

Something weird happened early in 2017.

I was looking for a song to lip synch to. In drag.

This was for a one-off performance with the improv group I was part of at the time. We had a string of a few LGBTQ events, and drag lip synchs were becoming a regular part of our season. I needed a song, and I needed to pick something I knew no one else in the group would choose. As someone who is secretly very competitive (and someone who knows I perform on stage better as a man anyway), finding the perfect song and perfect character to fit the song was stressing me out. So I turned to my beloved 80's New Wave station on Pandora for inspiration.

Eventually, the inspiration I desperately needed presented itself (this is the Weird Thing). It was, of all things, Depeche Mode's "Stories of Old" from Some Great Reward, a song I knew and loved deeply as a teenager but hadn't actually heard or really listened to in years. And with the inspiration from the song came the core inspiration for my character. Suddenly, everything locked into place - the look, the hair, the clothes, the physicality (read: how provocative I could get away with being at what was technically a family friendly event). And with that perfect vision for my character, all thing things I loved about Depeche Mode when I was in high school came flooding back to me. Wave after wave of nostalgia, the kind that makes you realize, "this is why I am the way I am."

And so I was forcibly dragged back into all things Depeche Mode by one song, one incredibly underrated song stuck somewhere in the middle of what isn't even my favorite DM album.

(I ended up using a different song by a different band for the drag improv thing, at the directors' request, they thought something more well-known would be more appropriate, and at the time I agreed. But my character mood board was still very much focused on DM in the mid-80s.)

Funnily enough, at that same time, DM were about to release a new album and announce dates for their Global Spirit Tour. So the timing on my part worked out perfectly. I have a habit of rediscovering the music I loved in high school just as a bunch of new content is about to hit the internet (one day I'll write about how Danny Elfman and Oingo Boingo saved my life more than once).

For a little background, when I say I loved DM in high school, I mean that's when I first heard of them. I didn't grow up on Depeche Mode, as my parents - who were my major source of music recs until I was 15 - absolutely hated anything that had to do with 1980s synthpop, post-punk, or any other new wave music. But someone much older and much cooler than me gave me a mix tape with "In Your Room" on it and I was intrigued. That wasn't the DM song that sealed my fate as a fan. That was 100% "Never Let Me Down Again", but a nudge in the right direction was all I needed, and for that honest to god actual mix tape cassette, I am eternally grateful.

I was a teenager during the era of Playing The Angel, and I was lucky enough to see them on that tour with my best friend at the time. The tickets were my high school graduation present. Our seats were at the very back of what used to be the Nissan Pavilion in VA. I hardly remember anything about the show itself, and any pictures I must have taken on my old pocket digital camera are sadly lost.

Washington, DC:

It was 2017 before I managed to see another DM tour. For whatever reason, whether it was my busy work schedule, being broke, or waiting until shows were already sold out to look for tickets, I missed both the Sounds of the Universe and Delta Machine tours. So when the Spirit tour was announced, I was poised and ready to make what some people might consider irrational financial choices in order to see three separate shows between September 2017 and June 2018.

The lead-up to the September 7th show in DC was a lot of fun. I was going with my two close friends, so we enjoyed some additional bonding as we eagerly anticipated the show together. This was the only gig on the tour I saw with people I knew, and I have nothing against going to concerts by myself -- and sometimes traveling great distances to do so. But getting to share the excitement leading up to the actual day and at the event itself with two of my very good friends was really special. I'm really glad I got to share that experience with them, and have their positive, enthusiastic energy to draw on.

This is the part of the post where I go on a brief tangent about superfan elitism, bear with me: The hardcore DM fans would say, "Three shows? That's nothing." And I would say they're right, but that doesn’t make me any less of a fan. I could have gone to more shows, probably, but my bank account, my job security, and my sanity required that three be the maximum amount of shows I got to see on this specific tour. There are numerous ways a person can express their love of a band, a tv show, a piece of immersive theatre, or whatever. The level of insane superfan I am or am not does not mean that their music is any less important to me as an artist and as person. HOWEVER, the people who I encountered at these three DM shows who were on their phones the entire concert, people who had better seats than me who sat down completely unengaged the whole time, and the people making disrespectful and unrelated comments about the audience and the band themselves can go fuck themselves. That negative, attention seeking, distracting bullshit has no place down in the floor seats in front of the stage, they can go be terrible up in the mezzanine levels.

Which is exactly where my first show was spent.

Second or third tier seats for big arena shows are 1000% not worth whatever money you spend on them. They're too far away, and you're surrounded by people who act like they've never heard of the band they paid actual money to see. The only reason my friends and I were up there in the first place was because of how absurd the US ticket queueing system was for the first North American leg of the GST. I, like many others, have a lot of issues with how that was handled and am glad they scrapped it for the second round of US shows.

I'm glad I had my two friends with me at the DC show, though. The three of us were maybe the only people having a genuinely fun time in our section. This first show for me was the only one where I cried. I wasn't expecting to, but hearing and seeing Martin sing "Home" struck something in me. And then "Heroes". I knew it was coming, but it still managed to really resonate on a deep emotional level. I love David Bowie as much as they do, but knowing that "Heroes" was how Dave was initially asked to be in the band, and my own personal feelings and connections to Bowie, hearing Dave sing it as well as he did was everything in that moment.

I have a number of issues with that show in DC, but none of them have anything to do with DM or the show itself. They played more songs from Spirit at this show than at any of the others I attended, but there was also "Corrupt" and "Wrong", "A Question of Lust" and "Somebody". It was also the longest set list of out of the three shows, with 22 songs total, which is rare for them, from what I understand, because of how intense their live shows are, especially for Dave (which I got to experience more closely at the other two shows). His presence on stage radiates to the rafters of huge venues like the Capital One Arena -- but more about Dave in a minute. I can talk about how good they sounded in DC, and how much hearing those songs live meant to me on that night during that time in my life, how I felt the synths and bass and percussion in my bone marrow and in my soul, but I can't really talk about the all-consuming, sweaty frenzy of experiencing a show like theirs from the floor. For that, I need to talk about Berlin and Philadelphia.

Berlin:

So DM announced more dates in Europe. And, because I'm insane I guess, was online at some ungodly hour when tickets went on sale for the two shows in Berlin, Germany in January. I was able to get an early entry ticket for the January 19th show in BERLIN where I would be surrounded by other people who were actually genuinely excited to be there, which would be a huge improvement after the lackluster crowds in DC.

Am I glad I did it? Yes. Would I do it exactly the same way ever again? Probably not. Because queueing overnight outside the arena was worth it for the concert experience itself, but it's not necessarily something I need to do again any time soon. I'm a weak, American fan, and I own that. The German DM fans go so fucking hard and I am absolutely terrified of them.

Somehow, I managed to get a spot on the barrier without any pushing or shoving. I wound up in the pocket where the main stage becomes turns into the catwalk, right in front of where Andy Fletcher has his set-up. On either side of me were two other women who also were there by themselves. They were nice enough to talk to me and keep me company while we waited.

The show, though.

My consciousness went… somewhere else. I can’t really compare the feeling to anything else I've experienced. I've been to some other really singularly wonderful concerts, to see bands and musicians that I have deep emotional ties to, but none of them have been like this. It's the combination of being part of the masses down on the floor, on the barrier, exhausted and sweating and euphoric, with the power and intensity of hearing and seeing Depeche Mode perform live. I was hyper-aware of everything happening in front of me. Time did something strange, it crawled by so slowly and yet it was over before I could register what happened. I was an outsider there, but I felt like I was part of this massive collective, all connected by our desire to be there, our love of the music, united for a few hours, and I was so aware that everything that was happening on stage and around us was happening to eary one of the people in that arena at once.

The sound of the ignition at the beginning of "Stripped" reverberating in your rib cage, the driving, head-banging riffs in "I Feel You," the cosmic outro of "Cover Me," the field of wheat arm-waving during "Never Let Me Down Again" -- having it all happen to you, at that volume, at that frequency and intensity, is like having your soul yanked from your body and cast into decadent oblivion.

Honestly, it was a blur. But as far as I can remember, highlights included:

The additional songs from Ultra! Unexpected, but very much appreciated.

Experiencing Andy Fletcher's ridiculous awkward dad dancing up close and in person. There's a lot of hype about Fletch's moves, but let me tell you, they exceed any expectation.

Martin. Martin sang "Sister of Night" AND "Judas". I was overcome. People talk about singers sounding like an angel, but Martin L. Gore is the only person in the history of music that saying actually applies to in full.

And Dave. If he was anything like he was at this show when they were at the DC show, I missed the fuck out. Because yes, he performs to the whole arena, even to the people in the very back, but it's altogether something else to watch someone that animated up close. He's tapping into some energy and fire to fuel his work that I've only rarely seen in other artists. Dave Gahan never phones it in, he always performs like he's got jet fuel for blood and like every show really means something. He is outrageous on stage, in every sense of the word. He is endlessly inspiring, and deserves so much recognition and respect.

Philadelphia:

That said… to me, it seemed like the band as a whole was having way more fun at the Philly show than they did in Berlin. I can't put my finger on the specific differences, but they seemed lighter, more pleased with their work, and maybe genuinely surprised at the warmth of their audience in Philly. Martin smiled a lot more at the Philadelphia show, and Dave seemed looser, maybe less tired after a double in Germany.

The Philly gig on June 3rd was the best, by far, out of the three. The second US leg of the GST was announced and I, of course, being the way that I am, thought, "FUCK IT WHY NOT" and magically got a floor seat ticket right in front of Martin's side of the stage after the general tickets went on sale. And it was worth every penny and a short train ride from Baltimore.

I met a few more very nice people, a couple from Florida (whose first show had been cancelled due to the major hurricane last year) and a solo lady sitting behind me who let me join their conversation. And the man sitting to my left was British? European? So he also knew all the things the audience is supposed to do during specific songs that I learned when I was in Berlin. There were definitely some bastard people in the crowd, even down on the floor, terrible people who clearly weren't enjoying themselves, but the high energy of everyone else made it easy to shift focus to the band.

The set list was very similar to the one I heard in Germany, with the exception of two of Martin's songs from Music For The Masses and "A Question of Time" right before their closer -- "Personal Jesus." But again, the performances and mood behind most of the songs at the Philly show seemed lighter, more playful and mischievous (on Dave's part). And the time really flew by. I missed "I Feel You" in the set list, but that's a very minor criticism of what was, over all, a miraculous third show out of three very powerful concerts.

Epilogue:

The general consensus among fans is that this may have been the last big tour Depeche Mode have. They may keep recording together and separately, but another tour on this massive scale is unlikely. If that's the case, I'm so glad I found a way to see three very different shows on the Global Spirit Tour. I can’t imagine experiencing the same exact feeling these shows gave me; I certainly didn't feel the same at David Byrne's awesome American Utopia tour show this summer, and I don't expect the feel the same when I see Nick Cave in October.

Depeche Mode, especially now, at this stage in their careers, during this time in American and world history, and for me personally at this specific point in my life as I age out of my 20s, have been a source of sanity and compassion, of deep feeling and social commentary. Their music touches maybe the parts of myself I'm too scared to look at head on. After going through some of the things that have happened to me as an adult, and as I figure out the kind of person I want to be in the coming decade, obviously there are certain themes resonate with me more than they did when I first discovered DM as a teen. I am grateful to have had circumstances happen the way they did to lead me back to Depeche Mode, to delve deep into their music and history.

Those three shows changed the my standards for seeing live music. After being front row for the Berlin concert, how could I ever go back to being content sitting up in the second or third tier for any arena show? I've been spoiled.

And after a few months have passed, when I think about my experiences over the course of the Global Spirit Tour, it doesn't quite feel real. There are a few other concerts I've been to where when I think about it, I think, "Did that actually happen??" (Namely seeing Danny Elfman in Los Angeles on Halloween, 2014. Absolutely bonkers.) Seeing DM in Berlin is definitely one of those moments already, not even a year later.

I look forward to the future of their music. If Depeche Mode tour again, and that's a big if, the furthest I would travel to see them is maybe the UK, but hopefully that won’t be necessary! However, I absolutely would go see a solo show, if Martin or Dave ever had shows anywhere even remotely close by. I would absolutely travel to New York or LA to see a solo Martin show or Dave with Soulsavers. From what I can tell those venues are usually smaller, so it would be easier to have a more enjoyable, intimate experience.

But that's all there is. Nothing more than you can feel now, that's all there is.

Until next time.

Photo by me, Jan 19, 2018

#depeche mode #global spirit tour #live music #long post

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secretradiobrooklyn · 4 years

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SECRET RADIO | Sept.5.20

“Crosscountry Rabbithole” curated in the van on a drive between Brooklyn and the countryside of Illinois on Labor Day Weekend 2020 (Hear it here.)

As there’s still very much a pandemic going on, we really didn't want to stop overnight if we didn’t have to on our drive from New York to Illinois, so after we exhausted the fantastic Saturday NPR lineup we figured a great way to stay awake was compiling the second issue of WBFF. You’ll hear a lot of the African and tropical vibe from last week, plus more French yé-yé and Europe in general. Here’s the track list, and of course, detailed notes below:

WBFF, édition 2, 5.SEP.20

1. Michel Polnareff - La lezione del capellone

Le Beatnik is one of Paige’s all-time favorite songs — the guitar is just such a rad riff, and it was a real debate on which version to put on, the French version of the Italian, and we figured we didn’t have much Italian yet… plus check out how he rolls his Rs! That’s one thing about the major hitters of French pop in the ‘60s — they all sing in different languages. (Keep an ear out for France Gall later!)

2. Antoine Dougbé - Honton Soukpo Gnos

Dougbé just hit us like a ton of bricks — these arrangements are completely perfect to our ears. So detailed, and with super funk and super Velvet Underground tones at the same time (check out the freakin guitar solo, and guitar outro), plus of course a Beninese pulse that is just unstoppable. This one was produced, uncredited, by Melomé Clement, and Dougbé isn’t the singer, he’s the composer.

3. The Velvet Underground - Cool It Down

The guitar tones here come so naturally out of the T.P. Orchestre sound. There’s plenty of stuff he’s saying that I don’t understand, and he’s saying it in English.

4. Ranil - Ranil y Su Conjunto Tropical - Licenciado

This is another Analog Africa release, with a fantastic album cover. Paige dove into it and soon found that she was checking every day to see if the vinyl was out, cos it was under 300 copies and falling. It’s got a parrot on the cover that looks like the Greenwood parakeets. This song is how she learned that she loves cumbia music.

5. T.P. Orchestre Poly Rythmo - Trop Parler C’est Maladie

The guitar launches into these endless patterns that wind around an unknown number of percussionists. Everyone feels so fluid together. “Trop parler c’est maladie”: “Too much talking is bad,” literally, which Paige imagines as essentially meaning, “Let’s stop talking and make out.” But we don’t really know.

The way the voices layer together when they’re singing, and then the guitar rises into the spaces between them, twisting and winding and droning and melodizing, is just completely mesmerizing. This incredible guitarist is Papillon, and he died in 1982. What a huge loss — he plays so eloquently and so conversationally.

6. Janka Nabay & the Bubu Gang - Somebody

I learned about Janka Nabay by hearing that he had just died. Listening to KDHX, the DJ (Caron House?) said she was sorry to hear about his passing and put on this song and I had to stop driving so I could just listen to all of the patterns crossing. I sure would have loved to see this band perform live — I feel like this is a specific reason we want to be in NYC, to meet people with capabilities I hadn’t previously known existed and work together.

7. Anna Karina - Roller Girl

Our friends Phil and Archie are an intercontinental love affair. When Phil tries to express an American accent, it’s always dripping with RRRRRs. This song feels like that, a French singer dramatically unrolling her Rs like she’s messing with her English teacher.

8. Wells Fargo - Watch Out

We believe we first heard about Wells Fargo from a Snap Judgment episode. It’s really great, starting with how they picked the name from the side of a stagecoach in a Western movie as a completely random phrase.

9. Patrick Coutin - J’aime regarder les filles

This song — this pretty freakin radical recording — became a huge hit in France in 1981 and apparently served as the soundtrack of that period. It was his big hit.

That main phrase he keeps repeating translates to “I like to watch girls on the beach,” which gets weirder and sometimes creepier with each pass.

10. Jacques Dutronc - Les cactus

Credit to Pandora for bringing us Jacques Dutronc! He sounds like Bob Dylan on a lot of songs, but he doesn’t seem to be the Dylan of France — that would be more like Serge Gainsbourg. But we could be wrong about that too. He’s also longtime partners with Francoise Hardy, which made them two of the hottest and hippest and most talented musicians of the ’60s.

Clip from Diablo Menthe

This is the clip of the schoolkids that we told you about, singing the Sylvie Vartan song from last week.

11. El Rego - Zon Dede

One of our main appreciations now is how deeply and broadly and internationally James Brown hit the ’60s and ’70s. People seemed to be struck by him and his approach planetwide, and it shows up like a shockwave through the whole era. This is Benin’s El Rego (thanks to Analog Africa once more for pointing him out), and his whole character seems to be in conversation with James Brown, shouting at each other from opposite sides of the world.

12. T.P. Poly-Rythmo, Bentho Gustave - Iya Me Dji Ki Bi Ni

The level of simultaneous groove and drone happening here is just unstoppable. This song has a sound I feel like I’ve always been looking for, not to play but just to dance and freak out to. Bentho Gustave is T.P. Poly-Rythmo’s bassist. We just got his headlining album on vinyl, so amazing!

13. Cambodian Rocks 1 - Yol Aularong - Jeas Cyclo (Ride Cyclo)

It’s amazing to think about how many sudden collisions of American and Cambodian experiences there were in the ’60s — so many disastrous ones, but also whatever combination of factors lead to the existence of this music. It’s so incredibly skilled and smooth, and I want to know more about who made this and how.

14. Adriano Celentano - Prisencolinensinainciusol

Don’t miss the videotape version of the live TV version via YouTube. Celentano is an Italian singer, but this is him tweaking Americans with a songful of non-English English.

15. France Gall - Der Computer Nr. 3

Another example of French pop multilingualism. One of Paige’s favorite voices, just throwing herself into the melodies all casual and easy breezy. We found out about this song because Paige was listening to a bunch of Quebecois radio, and they were talking about her, and they were playing a bunch of clips of her performing, including this one. It turned out that she had just passed on. We had to find it find this track.

16. Saigon Rock and Soul - Thành Mái - Tóc Mai Sợi Vắn Sợi Dài (Long, Uneven Hair)

What a vocal performance! Everything about the tones and melody of this recording — voice, organ, guitar — make it feel like a dream of hardcore hippie rock, minus even one shred of San Francisco. Every time I hear this song hit its crescendo I am completely in its thrall.

17. Ofege - It’s Not Easy

So these guys are from Lagos, Nigeria, and were in high school when they recorded this. Which is just freakin perfect. It sounds like enthusiasm and bad gear and good voices and that singular feeling of being sixteen and having a stone blast.

18. Avolonto Honore et l’Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou - Sètché Wêda

It took some time for us to find this song. This version is from an album we found online, but it also exists on an Analog Africa album. The hand drums locked in with the guitar lick for the verse get so deep when the other voices come in. And the cascading guitar riff creates a sudden electric waterfall, while the horns point straight over to jazz and western rock and soul.

19. Ranil y su Conjunto Tropical - Marlenita

Paige became completely smitten with this album, which we found after getting caught up in an album promising Peruvian chichidelica.

20. National Wake - Everybody Loves Freedom

When I started looking for African punk, I found this set of videos of National Wake and pretty much all of them are this good. They’re a Black and white band (the first?) from South Africa in apartheid ’70s and the rock and punk that they make overflows with feeling. There’s a documentary called Punk in Africa that clearly needs watching.

21. English Beat - Mirror in the Bathroom

The live version of this song really amps up the energy from the studio version I’m used to. This song always makes me think of my friend Audrey, who made me a mixtape when I was just a wee twig, and this was one of the songs that broke through and made a lasting impression. I think of her every time.

22. Fela Kuti - Roforofo Fight

“Translation from the original English hrm hrm hrm”

This song structure is so very cool, where he’s kind of playing around, setting the stage, warming up his story, and then the horns crash in with a shocker part, which gives away to this cartoonish, endlessly repeating horn phrase, like a piece of early Disney footage on repeat. Also like loop-based recordings that were still more than a decade in the future. This is one of my favorite versions of Fela, where he’s exploding with a new self and a new mode of music.

23. Fela Ransome Kuti and His Koola Lobitos - Ololufe

Now some time travel - this is from a collection of earliest Fela Kuti, when he’s in a completely different mode, more in the high life and samba form. He and his band are playing in a crowd-pleasing style, and it’s really very beautiful, with gorgeous vocals and horn passages. But this is also all prelude to Fela Anikulapo Kuti, a character we haven’t even glimpsed yet when this song was recorded.

24. William Onyeabor - Atomic Bomb

We really don’t know much about this song except that it seems to always show up at just the right time — or maybe its presence just makes the time right.

25. Assa Cica - Tinma Sa Le

We were down a different rabbithole when we saw this video appear that we couldn’t pass up. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rpI09vbq_Q) It’s a long and winding song that was one of Assa Cica’s most notable hits in Benin.

I love the three slapped notes in the middle of the song that never come back — that’s the way to slap. The bass throughout this song, but especially in the choruses, is exceptional, telling its own separate story but staying in relation with the vocals. And Paige’s favorite part of the melody is the bridge.

We just learned that Assa Cica died on May 22 of this year. It feels so strange to fall hard for a person’s music just as they leave the stage for good. (See also Janka Nabay.) It also feels good to realize you’ve already become part of a musician’s music living and giving beyond their own lives.

——

…And now we are safely arrived in the woods of Illinois. Time for a whole bunch of screenprinting and music listening!

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infnthoya · 7 years

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When did you realize that hoya was your bias? What was your favorite comeback look of his? What do you like most about hoya?

this is gonna be loooooong :)

ok first of all, i’d like to thank you like a million times for sending this to me. i wasnt on tumblr whole day but i opened it a few times on my phone during the day. i had been seeing this ask sent to my mutuals and was wishing someone sent it to me too. and i wrote it under a read more which i thought no one would pay attention and i didnt even mention it was THIS ask and then YOU SENT IT! *showers you with hearts and chocolate cupcakes* i hope i can write it well enough becuz my english isnt that good and im also not good with expressing myself.

“Bias” thing is a complex term for me. i guess its becuz im pretty older than all those boys, i cant just pick one and call them “bias”. and i usually cant have 2 biases at once. i “joined” the kpop community in the beginning of ‘12 and over these 5 years, i called 3 idols as my bias. first was TOP, then came Yongguk and for a few months i biased both of them but eventually Yongguk claimed his place as my one and only and stayed like that for a very long time. then when Howon came, just like the previous time, both of them stayed for a few months but then Howon won over Yongguk. I wanted point that out to show that for an idol to “won” the title of being my bias (lmao) they must’ve be REALLY good! (and i take this sh*t way too more seriously than i should otl)

already 3rd paragraph and i havent even started answering your Qs omg! okay so like i said i was a hardcore YG stan. honestly, HW got me by his looks at first. not only becuz he was good looking but becuz he had this “manly” image you know? im more into that type. when i first saw him was during H’s Special Girl era and i was someone who hasnt listened to even 1 infinite song (shame on me!) i was seeing YaDong gifs all over my dash but everyone was going crazy over Dongwoo (i dont blame them :D) but i was thinking “why is there no love for Hoya? he is -imo- more good looking”. but i didnt pay too much attention to it. later i started watching Reply’97 due to a friend’s rec and HW’s good looks, combined with his amazing acting skills and the character he played, caused him to sneakily and slowly get into my heart and brain. he is the reason i started following Infinite and simply there wasnt anyone else to steal his place among OT7. and later, both by some stuff that YG was doing to cause me grow away from him and the stuff that HW was doing to win me over, the game came to an end. so it wasnt like “omg he looked so good in X era” or sth but i had already found too many things that i loved about him as time passed by and un-stanning YG just made everything official. i think its been around 2 years since he became my only bias.

My fave look(s) [sorry for cheating:)]; im normally a trash for up-styled hair so his Pretty era look was perfection. but, tho i wasnt a fan back then, im in love with his Be Mine era look and im praying for the day i can see him with a short hair like that (SY has it now and IT LOOKS AMAZING!!!) Plus, i love his fluffy light brown hair during Back era (that is a sad era for us Howon stans but for some reasons i love it too much as well) And lastly, i just cant ignore his cotton candy hair colors during Last Romeo era hehe^^;;

Ok this is the hardest but the best part. its 4am now and its been a veryyy long and tiring day so i hope i wont skip anything (i just couldnt leave this post to later i HAD TO do it now :D)

Like i said his good looks was the reason he got my attention so i’ll start with it. i mean his eyebrows could slice my heart into pieces and his cute eyes make me go blind and his JAWLINE IS SHARPER THAN THE SHARPEST BLADE and i really love his lips (i dont like too big/plumpy lips) and his lips are just perfect for me and the way they shape when he cant contain his laugh like his lips get so wide you can see his gums its the most beautiful smile ever but HIS NOSEEEEE!!!! DUDE HIS NOSE!!!! ITS THE CUTEST NOSE I HAVE EVER SEEN AND I JUST WANNA PUT LITTLE PECKS ON HIS CUTE LITTLE NOSE ITS SO AŞDENEĞANAPROLUX!!!!

Another thing is how he is rather reserved. i mean he is surely much more open now, esp since Back era but still he likes being on his own, getting lost in things that he loves like dancing, making music or stuff like that and im like him too so idk its like a connection you know?

He is strong. not only physically but also mentally. he has a strong determination. he has been thru too much to be at where he is now. starting from his family (here is a ref for those who dont know how hard it was for him) i think thats very brave of him to risk so much for an unclear future.

I LIVE FOR HIS LAME JOKES!!!! and i dont think they are lame (ok some of them are :D) but i think its a proven fact that was accepted by everyone that he is witty. and i love my man smart :D lol he even praised his fans for being witty in his last vlive saying sth like “fans are like their idols. im witty and you’re witty too” or sth like that lol he is adorable!!!!

Which leads me to another thing i love about him; his love and respect for fans! about 2 years ago he was given a letter by a fan (i think its better if y’all check it here if you havent already) i love the way he approached the issue. he is always so straightforward about things which is another thing i love about him but i think ever since that time, he has become more “active” at airports. i mean he couldve just ignored it. losing 1 fan wouldnt have mattered. or he couldve done that speech but still go on acting like that and tbh we couldnt blame him becuz he really doesnt have to do any fan service at the airports. but oh my god! the fanservice that i had the honor of witnessing with my own eyes from the first row at the airport in Berlin!!!! he was the only one to open the curtain and wave at us and did “i say ho you say ya” with us, he kept waving till the van disappeared from our sight and he def couldve chosen not to do that and we couldnt blame him but he chose to do it! also when he first did vlive, it was becuz he had to do it due to some official thing but he said if he knew it was so easy to do, he’d do it often and tbh i thought he said it just to say it you know? but he was sincere about it! he really does the most vlives and idk what more to say on this issue lol

His thought on his own chastity just multiplied by respect for him a million times!!! im keeping this short since its a private issue but its one of the top things i love the most about him!

Another thing i adore is his relationships with his friends. i mean everyone loves their friends but i think he is doing a little more than that. he always features his friends on his personal or group schedules whenever he has the chance so he introduces them to more and more people. in a way he is “presenting” them you know? i mean i dont think too many people knew about Hyojin before his Good Kissser stage (i for one didnt know) but now i dont think there is an Inspirit out there who doesnt know her and i think its too cute!

I love his fashion sense. you guys are probably thinking (i mean if you have come this far, bless you

I legit started this around 4am and now its 5am and i have to wake up early otl but i had so much fun writing this and realized once again how much i love him not only as a singer but as a person too. I hope i havent missed out anything lol There are also stuff like how talented he is (he does perfect jobs in so many fields), how hardworking he is, how he loves his members etc but i think they are the kind of things that anyone, even if they arent HW biased can agree on and i wanted this post to be more personal rather than stating the observable facts :)

If anyone has read this till the end, im really sorry for wasting your time but i also hope i could cause you see Howon from different sides and somehow put a smile on your face.

Have a great day/night everyone 💜✌

#Anonymous #i need to tag this for later #what to tag?#hoya #mine

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viralnewstime · 4 years

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When the Download Festival Australia lineup dropped, the internet collectively lost its shit. Most of that was caused by the presence of almighty emo overlords My Chemical Romance appearing in the headline spot. For many, it was a proper celebration. A true generation defining band, the prodigal sons of the MySpace era, were back at a time of great need to lead us all into the black parade.

For a (rather vocal) minority though, the news was met with a collective middle finger and a whole bunch of internet haterade. “What about me?” they screamed into the endless void from their basement apartment in Hades (which is metal speak for typed into Twitter), sounding eerily like the whining emo kids they claimed not to be. We joke, we joke. Despair not, faithful metal hordes, Download Festival Australia is still home to more than enough “heavy stuff” to ensure your day out will be a riffsnorter of a time.

Better yet, we’ve done the heavy lifting for you and compiled this helpful survival guide to keep you surrounded by a wall-of-death and protected from emo cooties all day long.

Deftones

While not a traditional ‘metal’ band in any sense of the word, these Sacramento alt-metal demigods are near certainties to pull of one of the most sonically and emotionally heavy sets of the day. Come for the megahits like ‘Change (In the House of Flies)’, ‘My Own Summer’ and ‘Passenger’ but stay for the likes of ‘Doomed User’, ‘Rocket Skates’ and ‘Minvera’ and be taken back by the pure intensity of Chino Moreno’s otherworldly vocal chops as he pushes his way through one of modern music’s truly iconic walls of sound. This is your real headliner people.

Ministry

Of all the subgenres in metal world, outside of hair metal, industrial metal is arguably the one best suited for the music festival setting. Thankfully, Download Festival bookers know this and so they’ve gone and booked none other than the godfathers of the whole bloody genre, Ministry! Spawn out of the mind of the absolute maniac Al Jourgensen, Ministry will bring their bonkers blend of thrash riffage, industrial stomp and alt-metal explorations to the Download stage as they tear through the likes of ‘Jesus Built My Hotrod’, ‘Just My Fix’ and ‘Thieves’. There’s a fair chance you won’t have a clue what’s going on, but you’ll be having an absolute blast of a time, so it absolutely does not matter!

In Flames

The most traditionally ‘metal’ sounding band here so far, Sweden’s melodic death metal pioneers, In Flames will bring their trademark monstrous riffs and infectious grooves to Download, where they’re sure to be met by a constant mass of moshing heads and intermittent wall-of-deaths. Undisputed icons of the genre, In Flames are credited as one of the originators of the hugely influential Gothenburg sound. They’ll whip the pit into a neck destroying frenzy with cuts like ‘Only For the Weak’, ‘Cloud Connected’ and ‘I Am Above’ as their undeniable melodies take your ears hostage.

Testament

You want metal cred? Try getting more credible than thrash metal legends Testament. Formed waaaay back in 1982 and often listed alongside Metallica, Megadeath, Slayer and Anthrax as being thrash metal titans, Testament fucking rip, and you can count on seeing me on the barrier as they shred through ‘Over the Wall’, ‘Electric Crown’ and ‘The Pale King’. For the uninitiated, Testament essentially sound like the first four Metallica records, but shoutier. What more could you want for from an early evening set at a metal festival?

Alestorm

Scottish pirate metallers Alestorm probably aren’t for everyone, but they should be on your Download itinerary. A sure bet for most fun set of the day, Alestorm write over-the-top metal-infused sea shanties about drinking beer, plundering things and other pirate behaviour in thick Scottish accents that are just begging to be impersonated poorly. You’re going to LOVE singing lines like “We are here to drink your beer and steal your rum at the point of a gun” in a field in the middle of the day. TRUST ME.

Carcass

Creators of some of the most viciously heavy bangers on this bill, grindcore heroes, and ‘fab four’ members, Carcass will have you clinging on the nearest barrier or buddy for support as they obliterate anything and everything not concreted into the ground. Surrender yourself and let the music take you where it will as they deliver crushing renditions of the likes ‘Heartwork’, ‘Unfit For Human Consumption’ and ‘Keep on Rotting in the Free World’.

Lacuna Coil

In Europe, Italian goth-metallers Lacuna Coil are a big fucking deal and even a solitary listen to ‘Heavens a Lie’, ‘Reckless’ or ‘Our Truth’ will make it immediately clear why that is. As haunting industrial/nu-metal tinged riffs provide a backdrop for metal queen Cristina Scabbia’s soaring vocals, you’ll find yourself in a trance like state, in which you will willingly remain. They’ve sold millions of records for a reason. You owe it yourself to find out. Also they’ll probably play their cover of ‘Enjoy the Silence’ by Depeche Mode and that is a VERY good time.

The HU

Just when you thought you’d heard it all, along comes Mongolian metallers The HU, blending traditional Mongolian throat-singing with heavy-metal to create a sound they call Hunnu Rock. If that sentence alone wasn’t enough to convince you to give them a look, check out the videos for ‘Yuve Yu’ and ‘Wolf Totem’ that made them a viral sensation, then do the only sane thing and catch their set at Download. It’s a different brand of heavy.

Baroness

“They’re not heavy enough,” is what some people will tell you., Well some people are wrong. Baroness rule, they always have, they always will and no heavy festival is complete without catching a bit of Baroness magic. They’re heavy-metal titans for a reason and that reason is simple: they write fucking fantastic songs. Don’t overthink it, just let yourself enjoy the afternoon sun while being co-opted by ‘Take My Bones Away’, ‘Shock Me’ and ‘A Horse Called Golgotha’. Is it heavy? Depends on your perspective. Is it a great time? Always. Just go with it.

Venom Prison

UK five piece Venom Prison have been given the label of “the new face of death-metal” by Metal Hammer and no one with ears could possibly dispute that claim. Venom Prison pump out a BLISTERING brand of death that’ll make most MCR fans in attendance piss themselves. Fronted by the frankly quite terrifying Ash Gray, their 2016 debut album Animus and its follow up 2019’s Samsara are flawless, fierce and frightening. A serious contender for the mantle of heaviest band on this bill, you do not want to miss the utter chaos that will be ‘Matriphagy’, ‘Uterine Industrialisation’ or ‘Abysmal Agony’ live. See you in the pit.

Ne Obliviscaris

One of the finest heavy bands Australia has ever produced. Certified prog-metal geniuses. I’m not going to waste time selling them to you, just go watch them, the music will do the rest.

Also worth a look

Byron metalcore giants In Hearts Wake. Clowns aka the best punk rock band in Australia. Brutal Brisbane death outfit Disentomb. Ascendant Melbourne metalcore monsters in waiting Thornhill. Sydney nu-metal tinged party starters RedHook and Melbourne hardcore/nu-metal protagonists DREGG.

There you have it. A full day of heaviness. 100% free of any exposure to My Chemical Romance. You’re very welcome. Now excuse me, I’ve got some guyliner to apply.

–

Download Festival Australia will return to both Melbourne and Sydney in 2020, hitting Melbourne Showgrounds on Friday, 20th March and Parramatta Park on Saturday, 21st March. Head here for details on the first lineup announcement.

The post A Guide To The Heavy AF Acts On The Download Festival Australia 2020 Lineup appeared first on Music Feeds.

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devils-gatemedia · 5 years

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Most of my Facebook feed is made up of debate, conversation, and sharing of great music in a group called “New wave of Classic Rock”. Whilst there are always differences of opinion in matters of “taste”, they are always friendly and light-hearted. In recent months however, those differences of opinion were expressed much more forcibly when one band was mentioned; Inglorious. Facebook posts and Twitter feeds were full of reposts of leaving announcements, rants, apologies, explanations, counter allegations, and drama. Sides were taken. Battle lines drawn. Posts deleted when they became too argumentative. As always in such soap operas, the truth was known by few, but claims to know the truth were expressed by many.

The new album was released, which simply stoked the fires. The songs were recorded by people who would never play them live on stage together. The album itself was something of a departure to the previous material. In my eyes, it was more mature, introspective, not as brash, but others stated loudly that they preferred the previous bombast. New band members were announced, and a tour went on sale. There was no way I was missing this one!

Opening the evening, on a freezing and potentially snowy Tuesday evening, were local band Flowerpot. I have seen the girls (as they were previously an all female band) a few times before, but this was a stage far bigger than any I have seen them tread and they grasped the opportunity with every ounce of their being. Fronting Flowerpot, Steph Kiddle is born to take centre stage. Never still from the off, her powerful vocals and commanding presence quickly won the crowd over. Flanking her was relatively new guitarist Tom Prangley. In the past, the issue for Flowerpot has been a bit of a gap in that position, but his music ability and greater visibility raised the bar considerably. Rhythm came from Morgan Pearce on bass and Jess Hartley on drums, and they laid down a pretty heavy basis for Steph’s show(wo)manship. Their set flew by in a blur of flying hair, crushing guitars, and powerfully delivered vocals and they deserved the warm reaction they got from the Bristol crowd.

The meat in the sandwich came courtesy of London trio City Of Thieves. I have a love of the simplicity that comes with a three-piece, and City of Thieves didn’t let me down at all as they delivered a set of powerful rock played with confidence. Vocal duties were taken care of by Jamie Lailey as he struggled with a recalcitrant bass. It was clearly playing up, but he never let it get to him, and the huge sound coming from guitarist Ben Austwick, coupled with his raw vocal style, meant that often his efforts to solve the problem were the only indication it existed! Will Richards’ drumming behind them kept everything pacy and raced them through the set. Stand out songs that you should give a listen to include; “Reality Bites”, “Buzzed Up City” and “Animal” Listening to their album “Beast Reality” on the drive back to Devon made the journey fly by.

Finally, it was time to see the result of all those aforementioned changes. Inglorious are visually different for sure, and when Nathan joins them, he is dressed down compared to other times I have seen him, clad in modest black. Joining him on stage were old compatriot Phil Beaver one drums (and surprisingly good backing vocals), along with bassist Vinnie Colla and the twin guitars of Danny Dela Cruz and Dan Stevens. The sound was thickened by a keyboard player, sat back in the shadows, who remained anonymous throughout the set.

The first few songs gave no hint at what was soon to come. Inglorious opened with “Where Are You Now?” from the new album. It’s a great opener, as it shows the new and more mature sound of that album beautifully. The band were tight, and James’ voice sounding strong but more controlled, with the high notes as explosions to savour rather than a continued wall of scream. “Taking The Blame” and “High Flying Gypsy” followed on with minimal interaction with the crowd. So far it was a decent show from a good band playing Classic Rock as many other bands might do.

“Read All About It” was the first song I was able to really experience once we left the photo pit, as being that close to whoever you are shooting tends to be the sound you hear, and you don’t really get a proper sound mix. The next song was from the new album and James introduced it as a song he wanted to do early whilst his voice was still strong. The band (including Phil Beaver, introduced by James as “multi-instrumentalist Phil Beaver”) brought acoustic instruments to the stage, the lights dropped to just a few spots, and the next few minutes were truly sublime. I rarely film a snippet of a live gig, but I wanted to share what I was hearing with my partner at home in Devon. The crowd were utterly silent and totally enraptured. The clarity and range of the vocals were astounding, but it was the passion and emotion in the delivery that genuinely moved people around me to tears. There were a few moments at the end of the song where people had to shake themselves out from whatever places they had gone and come back to a cold night in Bristol and the rest of the gig, before a huge ovation filled the air. “Warning” went the other way with a series of vocal gymnastics that made my eyes water. “Making Me Pay”, “Freak Show” and “Breakaway” followed and highlighted some of the differences between the new and older material, but also the depth of catalogue Inglorious are building up.

Then, never-to-be-forgotten moment number two: James introduced something different, a cover of Alanis Morissette’s “Uninvited”. It was dark and atonal, full of other-worldly harmonies. The vocals simply soared around the venue. James then left the stage, and the thus far relatively anonymous guitarist Danny Dela Cruz stepped forward into the limelight. Holy Crap! Think Blackmore crossed with Randy Rhoads. The scales were Middle Eastern in that way that Rainbow were unique. The speed of his fingers up and down the fretboard eye-watering, but never at the expense of the underlying rhythm and melody, in the same way Randy Rhoads made his own. I found myself stood there in open-mouthed wonder. James returned (in much more sparkly costume) and lauded his praises, then announced that he is only 19 years old! There may be a hardcore of supporters of previous band members who have been taking out their frustration online, but I can only think that in a matter of a few more performances they will be a distant memory if this was anything to go by.

“Ride To Nowhere” was followed by James spending a little time talking about the departure of former Inglorious members. Describing it as a tough last year, he says how pleased he is to be playing with the new musicians on stage and then, with a knowing smile, introduced the next song, “Liar”. He continued to talk about the challenges of the last year, introducing his family, who were there to see the show, and talking about the fact that he now lives in Devon. He got visibly emotional as he discussed the death of both his grandfather and best friend and then dedicated the song “Faraway” to them. It was another incredibly poignant vocal, and the lyrics were sung with immense feeling and power.

“I Don’t Need Your Loving” was the penultimate song of the main set, and led into easily my favourite song from the new album, “I Don’t Know You”. I have seen Inglorious a few times now, and the bluesy, soulful vibe of this song showcases what they should be about better than any other. Inglorious were immense. The solos were en pointe, and the vocals utterly sublime as they built and swelled with almost painful emotion. There is one note, near the end, that simply beggars belief, and to attempt it live, let alone hit it and hold it, was worth the price of admission alone. Inglorious returned for the encore, and for a while there was confusion at the sound of the vocals but no singer. A bright light appeared at the back of the venue, and James appeared walking through the crowd, slapping hands and surrounding himself with fans as he serenaded them with “Holy Water”. Back on stage for set closer “Until In Die”, and you were reminded again just how strong an Inglorious set is after a third album.

James has been given a hard time in recent months on social media. Accusations of rampant ego abound, and his response possibly ill-advised, but some of the best musicians of this genre from the past were accused of similar and had the same revolving door policy with band members. The difference was, in their era you couldn’t drop a plectrum and have it posted on Twitter before it hit the ground.

Take Inglorious as they are now. An incredible vocalist who is adding passion and soul (and restraint?) to his formidable range, a tight band of musicians to realise the strength of the back catalogue and, in Danny Dela Cruz, a guitarist of rare talent to work with James and take the new music yet to be written to a whole different plane.

Review and images: Rob Wilkins

All current Inglorious tour dates can be found here.

Live Review: Inglorious – O2 Academy, Bristol Most of my Facebook feed is made up of debate, conversation, and sharing of great music in a group called “New wave of Classic Rock”.

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duluoz2 · 5 years

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Musicis historia mea, Part II: The Punk Years

The fist time I heard punk rock, it scared me. It was the first track of the Germs’ “GI” album. My sister had borrowed it from someone, and there it was on the turntable. The cover was black with a blue circle on it; weird. I thought I’d give this punk thing a try. After all, I was an avid “New Wave” fan. I liked Devo, Blondie, Talking Heads, and Elvis Costello; how much different could this punk music be? To be honest, I had seen documentaries about the punks in Britain, and it had seemed pretty creepy; I mean, they had safety pins in their faces! Plus, the scary personification of punk, Sid Vicious, had recently died of a heroin overdose after knifing his girlfriend. No thanks! I’ll stick to the less scary stuff, maybe go as far as liking the Ramones, and, if I really wanted to get radical, the Dickies.

But here was this album by a group called the Germs; my sister got it from a friend of hers who was actually into punk. So I gave it a listen. The first song on the album, by now a punk classic and one that I have listened to countless times, is called “What We Do is Secret.” It starts with a four count kick drum beat, and then it hits warp drive into a sonic onslaught that is atomic. My usual volume for listening to any music when I was 13 was loud, as in LOUD. So of course I had the volume turned up to ridiculous levels. Big mistake. The drumbeat kicked, and suddenly I was pummeled by guitar, bass, and Darby Crash’s demonic screech.

Standing in the line we're aberrations Defects in a defect's mirror And we've been here all the time real fixations Hidden deep in the furor- What we do is secret-secret!

Not that I understood any of the lyrics (nor do I to this day). All I knew is that I felt like Charlie Brown when he was pitching and someone would hit the ball back at him and cause him to spin around in a cloud of dust while his shirt, socks, and shoes flew off. I quickly took the record off. Nope. Too loud, too intense. I’ll stick to listening to my Devo “Freedom of Choice” album. But deep down, I was intrigued. It all came to a head when my sister made the first purchase of a punk album by a member of my family: the soundtrack to The Decline of Civilization (I know what some of you are thinking; “you mean that movie about the metal bands?” No, the original!). Now recovered from my first encounter with SoCal hardcore, I listened. First song. “White Minority” by Black Flag (after some dialogue from the movie, that is). Again, an aural blitz to start things off. This time, however, I was not scared. And so my initiation into punk rock began.

Now, punk still had a bad reputation. The stories about the punk scene in Britain had scarcely faded into obscurity before we were inundated with shocking exposés about the violence and anti-social elements of the LA punk scene. Fights regularly broke out at shows. The local media had run stories and video about the gang-like attacks at Black Flag shows (the band was blamed for doing nothing to stop the violence). The message was clear: decent people stayed away from this type of scene. No good kids were into it. Parents, lock up your children. The LA punk scene even had its own Sid Vicious; Darby Crash, he of the frightening GI album, had OD’d in December of 1980 (he died the same day as John Lennon, which overshadowed things a bit). But again, although I was initially repelled by the whole scene, I was also intrigued. I was a fan. Punk records started finding their way into my record collection. My friends and I slam danced at the eight-grade graduation dance. I tried like hell to spike my hair. The fix was in.

This was circa 1981. The LA punk scene was in its hardcore golden age. Bands like Black Flag, the Circle Jerks, Fear, the Adolescents, and Bad Religion were kings of the scene. What I didn’t know then was that the punk scene in LA had a longer and more varied history. The nascent LA punk scene had started in the late 70’s and was much more arty and eclectic. There was also a heavy gay element, since many of the artists were used to being on the fringes of society. The music was slower and more experimental. The bands of that era were X, the Weirdos, Catholic Discipline, and the Bags. Bands associated with hardcore music, like Black Flag and the Germs, were also a part of this earlier scene, but their music was different at that time. The punk scene I got involved with was far less diverse; bands were hardcore, and there was a macho element to everything with the slam dancing and fighting. The kids in the scene were younger and from the suburbs. They were “bored kids with nothing do do,” to put it in the words of the Adolescents. We liked the music loud, hard, and fast. If it was slow, or if, god forbid, a band had long hair, we weren’t interested in it. Thus, bands that would survive the initial influx and go on to some degree of fame in later years by going beyond the SoCal punk scene like the Minutemen, were held in lesser regard than a band like TSOL.

Then a weird thing happened; punk bands started cropping up in the weirdest places. There were scenes in major cities like San Francisco, New York, and Chicago, but bands started coming from places like Milwaukee, Kansas City, and Minneapolis, the heart of the Midwest for God’s sake. They had weird names like Necros, the Meatmen, the Stretchmarks, and, weirdest of them all, Husker Du. They didn’t look like punks. At least, they didn’t look like punks according to my definition. I simply wasn’t’ impressed although I was happy so to see at least a bastardized version of punk going national. Still, Southern California was the place for true punk rock.

And it seemed as if the scene was growing exponentially. More and more bands were formed. Record labels like Posh Boy, Frontier, SST, and Epitaph put out a steady stream of singles, EP’s, and full albums. Live shows were a bit of a problem. By the time I had figured out a way to sneak off to shows, I was either thwarted by the age limit, the club had gone under, or punk bands were banished. Thus, I missed famous venues like the Starwood, the Masque, and Al’s Bar. My first gig was at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium and featured an all-star lineup of Black Flag, the Minutemen, the Adolescents, and DOA. I went with my older brother, my sister, and her friend. At the time, the violence at punk shows was all over the news, particularly the violence at Black Flag shows. Needless to say, I was scared shitless. I dressed for the occasion in what I thought were punk clothes: Levi’s 501s, flannel shirt, and Chuck Taylors. When I saw what many of the other attendants were wearing – leather jackets, combat boots, and bondage pants – I was even more gobsmacked. I had what I thought was short hair, over my ears, but most of the guys at the place had shaved heads. Skinheads! The guys who would randomly pick someone out of the crowd and beat the shit out of him. The atmosphere was strange, threatening. I thought at any moment I would get grabbed by the collar and set upon by five or six guys. I sat in the back with the girls and watched the bands. My brother and his friends, veterans of the scene by this time, quickly made their way towards the stage and into the slam pit (we didn’t call it “moshing” then; I still have no idea what the fuck “moshing” is). I stood well back and just watched. I really don’t remember much about the bands that played that night.

The things I remember distinctly are a guy coming out dressed as Adam Ant and dancing to “Ant Music.” Seems that, for some reason, Black Flag fans decided that they hated the Ants, and in particular Adam, and that the best way to express such hate was by beating the shit out him. The ersatz Adam, actually Overkill lead singer Merrill dressed in a full Kings of the Wild Frontier outfit, danced and pranced while various member of the audience tried to climb the stage and smash his face in. None of them succeeded. Then, Black Flag, headliners for the evening, came out and launched into “Six Pack,” the new single the band had just released. After that, it’s all pretty much a blur. I remember loud. I remember fast. And I remember mustering up the courage to move closer to the stage and on the fringes of the slam pit. And it was there, while I watched with fascination the barely controlled chaos of the pit (which did not go in a circle, but went in all directions at once), that my brother reached out mid slam dance, grabbed me by the shirt, and dragged me into the pit. I was a pretty substantial 13-year old, about six feet tall and probably 170 pounds, but I got tossed around pretty well. I remember trying to mimic the “dance style” of the others, which was a kind of stopped over, side to side swinging of the arms motion; the tough part was trying to keep on your feet as you slammed into others and they did the same. I fell, was picked up quickly, started again, fell, was picked up, and finally decided I’d had enough and got out. I don’t know if it was because I was young or looked pathetic, but I distinctly remember falling down and getting picked up right away. Kindness? Maybe. Or maybe they just wanted to toss me back into the fray to take another beating. Whatever it was, I was glad I wasn’t left on the floor to be stomped and kicked. I was also glad when I got the hell away from there.

I got back to where my sister and her friend were siting with a look on my face that must have explained what I had just gone through better than any words could. My sister looked back at me with a look that said, “Don’t even think about going back in there!” Okay, Sis. There was no beating at the hand of HB skinheads, no mayhem or riot. The biggest event was a fight between two legends. A guy named “Xhead” got into a fight with John Macias, the lead singer of Circle One. Xhead had been interviewed in The Decline. He got his name from the fact that he had an X shaved into the top of his head. John Macias was a rather large individual with a Mohawk who looked like he could play the entire defensive line for a football team. I don’t know what started the fight, and I didn’t even see it happen, but I distinctly remember Macias leaving the venue with his friends while holding his bloody ear. Pretty heavy stuff. My brother had seen the whole thing and gave me the details. The two squared off for whatever reason (they were both insane would be my guess), and the crowd had formed a circle to let them fight it out. Macias would later be killed by the LAPD in Santa Monica after going nuts and running around PCH and threatening people; Xhead, who was described by X bassist and vocalist John Doe as a sociopath, faded into obscurity. But such was the electric atmosphere that was ever present at punk gigs in the early 80’s. And into such a scene I now found myself entering.

It wasn’t easy to go to gigs back then. I had to hope that my brother or someone else who had access to a car could take me, and I had to hope that the gig was on a Saturday and that it was all ages. This wasn’t an easy task. Many clubs didn’t want the problems that were attendant with any punk show like vandalism, violence, and general mayhem. While there were those of us who were really interested in seeing a band and maybe getting in some slam-dancing and stage-diving, there was a segment of the audience who were bent on causing trouble. The clubs that would book punk bands became less and less, and oftentimes they were sleazy bars on the outskirts of LA or obscure places that hadn’t been burned by booking punk bands. There were some good venues that had punk shows like the Whiskey, the Cuckoo’s Nest, and Perkins Palace, but there were also odd places like Oscar’s Cornhusker in Azusa, Mindiola’s Ballroom in Huntington Park, and The Timbers in Glendora. They were clearly not suited for such gigs, but they were also some of the only places that would book bands. The Cuckoo’s Nest was legendary. A small club in Costa Mesa, it was located next to a cowboy bar called “Zubie’s.” The punks and cowboys would regularly get into fights (as made famous by the Vandals song “Urban Struggle). It was also the place where a guy named Pat Brown dragged a cop with his car after the cop tried to reach in and grab his keys (again, made famous in a Vandals song; I’ll leave the title to your imagination). Unfortunately, I never set foot in the Nest. My brother attended a few shows there, and my two friends even made it out there to see Black Flag’s first show with Henry Rollins (their parents found out and they got in trouble, so I had that going for me), but I didn’t get a chance (somehow, my mom found out about the Black Flag show and wouldn’t let me go, if I recall). I also never went to Godzilla’s in the Valley, which was a club designed for punk bands. But I did see my share of bands, as I like to explain to the Millenials who think they discovered punk. I saw Black Flag, the Circle Jerks, Fear, Social Distortion, DOA, the Minutemen, Adolescents, MDC, Bad Brains, GBH, the Vandals, the Cockney Rejects, Dead Kennedys, the Mau Maus, Youth Brigade, and many more lesser known bands.

At a Bad Brains gig at the Santa Monica Civic, the scene of my first gig, I actually got backstage. I still don’t know how I managed it. The Bad Brains played an intense, incredible set, and were finishing up one of their 10 minute dub jams (which they interspersed with their atomic punk songs) and, in defiance of the security that was roughly tossing every punk who attempted a stage dive, invited the whole audience to join them. I distinctly remember lead singer H.R. saying something along the lines of “don’t let these yellow shirts stop you!” The floodgates opened, and it seemed like half the venue rushed up onto the stage. The now a part of the show punks slam danced and jumped around, and after the band finished their song, those who remained on stage started diving headlong into the audience. I don’t know where I got the courage, but I decided I didn’t want to leave the stage just then. I slowly creeped towards the backstage, trying not to be noticed. At one point, a security guard stopped me, but somehow I found another way towards the back. I picked up a guitar case to make it look like I was crew, and, before I even knew what had happened, I was backstage. I got into the Bad Brains’ dressing room and talked to HR and lead guitarist Dr. Know. I also met D. Boon from the Minutemen and a guy named Zachary who was the co-host of New Wave Theater, an odd little show hosted by the odd little Peter Ivers that aired on the local UHF station and featured many indie and punk bands. All in all, it was a spectacular night for a young and impressionable teen. I made my way back to the stage and watched the Circle Jerks from the wings for a while before I decided to rejoin my friends, which I accomplished by racing across the stage and doing an epic front flip into the audience.

And that was just one of the many good times I had as a wayward punk rocker. There were some not so good times too, like the time I shaved my head and was yelled at by every adult member of my family, or the time I was slam dancing to Fear at the Timbers in Glendora and some jackass hit me on the head with something hard that caused a nice split in my scalp, or the time I got kicked in the face by a stage diver at a GBH show. But overall, the experience was very cool. I met interesting people, had a couple of articles published in Flipside magazine, started a band called The Insurgents, talked to Henry Rollins and Greg Ginn at the Whisky one night, talked to Chuck Dukowski from Black Flag and Keith Morris from the Circle Jerks on the phone (you’d call the record labels they were on and they would answer; try that with Justin Timberlake), and saw a lot of bands, some talented, and some not so much. It’s a part of my musical history, and in a way, it informs who I am today with my general eschewing of commercial and popular entertainment (I didn’t always walk the walk; there are a few Duran Duran albums in my past). I don’t know if it’s possible for kids to go through the same type of cool experience.

I remember interviewing a guy from a band for a music magazine in the 90’s and we were both reminiscing about the old punk days. He was from somewhere in the Midwest, and I remember him saying that the really cool thing about liking punk in the 80s was that you really had to look hard to track down the music. Bands rarely came to where he lived, and the local record stores didn’t carry much of the music, so it made finding it that much more special. It was an experience just to get access to the music. We both agreed, as older guys always seem to do, that things were better in our day because you had to make an effort; now, everything is easy to find and nothing is unknown. I see a lot of people who have a nostalgia for punk who I don’t remember being around when it was actually a thing. Everybody wants to claim a connection to it, but very few people were really there. Whenever I see a young kid with a Dead Kennedys or Black Flag T-shirt or patch, I laugh to myself. My inclination is to say, “Hey, name five Dead Kennedys songs, and without ‘Holiday in Cambodia.’” But, I realize, I was doing the same thing when I was into the Doors and Jimi Hendrix when I was a teen. I’m more likely to say, “You know, I saw those guys.” It strikes them as weird that any adult would make that claim. I guess they’re just finding what they are into although if you can buy a band’s shirt at the local mall, it kind of takes away the whole rebellion thing. So I write this as a retired punk, a veteran of the scene, as we used to call it, who remembers the glory days and now, annoyingly, won’t shut up about how great it was. But really, it was.

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