After months of waiting, last Friday saw NOFX return to our fair shores, playing an All Ages show at the Camberwell Centre. For the first time in many years, since I escaped the oppressive clutches of the overly restrictive bitch that is the underage music scene, I experienced a show predominantly populated by 8-17 year olds.
I realised that although technically there was perhaps only a decade or so separating us me and the congregation of prepubescent lads beside me, I had evolved, (or devolved?) centuries beyond that underage mind-space.
When I saw these three boys watching the band, toeing the dubious line between sheer excitement and incontinence, I suddenly worried where their mothers were. Where a heavily dreadlocked Melvin look-alike threw himself from a towering speaker stack, I was maternally concerned for his welfare after the crowd parted to make way for his flailing limbs. When a young man conquered the crowd security to show Fat Mike his likeness permanently inked on his forearm, I almost LOLed at the thought (“Daddy, who’s FAT MIKE?”, “Why son, this was the man responsible for contributing ‘Hotdog In A Hallway’ to the world of music*.)
My tolerance to these people so inspired by fast, loud punk music seems to have diminished with terrifying rapidity. Am I a prude? Am I too old? Am I a nasty, embittered cynic? Or was I merely too sober?
I’m gonna go with ‘all of the above’, Eddie, and in future stick to embarrassing myself by the bar and/or toe tapping in the corner. Fuck I’m sad.
*I kid, I kid. Fat Mike’s contribution to modern punk rock is a very significant one, indeed.
I realised that although technically there was perhaps only a decade or so separating us me and the congregation of prepubescent lads beside me, I had evolved, (or devolved?) centuries beyond that underage mind-space.
When I saw these three boys watching the band, toeing the dubious line between sheer excitement and incontinence, I suddenly worried where their mothers were. Where a heavily dreadlocked Melvin look-alike threw himself from a towering speaker stack, I was maternally concerned for his welfare after the crowd parted to make way for his flailing limbs. When a young man conquered the crowd security to show Fat Mike his likeness permanently inked on his forearm, I almost LOLed at the thought (“Daddy, who’s FAT MIKE?”, “Why son, this was the man responsible for contributing ‘Hotdog In A Hallway’ to the world of music*.)
My tolerance to these people so inspired by fast, loud punk music seems to have diminished with terrifying rapidity. Am I a prude? Am I too old? Am I a nasty, embittered cynic? Or was I merely too sober?
I’m gonna go with ‘all of the above’, Eddie, and in future stick to embarrassing myself by the bar and/or toe tapping in the corner. Fuck I’m sad.
*I kid, I kid. Fat Mike’s contribution to modern punk rock is a very significant one, indeed.
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