November 21, 2007

Bless those bedraggled ‘emo kids’ at Flinders Street Station. Making it their duty to simultaneously piss off and terrify any middle aged types who are not hip to current fashions and instead think perhaps the apocalypse is upon us or the staff of Dracula’s theatre restaurant are forming some kind of lackadaisical strike outside the Swanston Street 7/11.

Who needs a gig guide? When you’re confronted with the swarms of underage scenesters at the foot of Flinders, it’s a pretty sure bet someone’s playing at the HiFi Bar.

Truly though, the throng of Bring Me The Horizon fans that milled about the Hifi in anticipation of an afternoon underage show was truly a sight to behold. It was like every vaguely initiated emo/hardcore/raver/metal fashion statement had been rolled haphazardly into one to create an androgynous new species, not entirely unlike Escape The Fate, really. I laughed not because I can’t relate to the kids who express themselves through their fashion, and certainly not because I believe myself to be above them but because I’ve been there and done that and could clearly envisage these kids’ future mortification at their attire. I was afterall a 14 year old skate punk fan who raided her poor pooches accessories cupboard and pinched a thick metal chain intended to restrain canines and attached it to her wallet to dangle about her waistband. I stole from my fucking DOG, people! I was never entirely sure of the purpose but it looked pretty sweet and made me feel punk as fuck.

It’s my reaction to observing these kids today that makes me wonder if my future self will show the same mortification at my current self’s tastes. Will black nails, circle pits and hardcore be the lycra, Locomotion and Rick Astley of our generation? The smart money says yes… and I say fuck it…here’s to embarrassing our judgemental future selves.