December 12, 2007

There are few things that can make me unhappy at a gig. Lack of beverages can make me edgy. The overzealous dude in front of me with his one man circle pit –which more closely resembles an angry version of the rerun dance- grinds my gears a little. A shitty live performance can bore me, but hey at least then I get to gawk at the chick in front of me’s tatts while said band drones on. But in the last couple of week’s I’ve experienced some upsetting incidents…One was a potent concoction of frustration, and devastation when a band I truly adore was met with a relatively lacklustre response from a small and unenthused crowd. To see a band expending enough energy to power a small South American city only to have it reciprocated solely by the angry dude up front who bears a scary resemblance to my uncle after a couple sherries at Christmas, is incredibly disheartening. Furthermore I do believe it to be the absolute musical equivalent of a shocking case of sexual frustration. Ie. To be so desperately eager to scream and thrash about within a heaving crowd, yet be denied thanks to sparse and stiffened punters. Man up Melbourne!

Contrariwise, it’s probably time for the security staff at the Peninsula Hotel to man down following last Thursday’s Bouncing Souls gig. Though the Moorooduc crowd was a admittedly a little rough (when the bar’s cranking 28 Days and Limp Bizkit its usually a pretty good indication of what kind of night you’re in for), security acted with an excess of violence and bravado in detaining and forcibly removing anyone who dared ‘crowd surf’ amongst the small but impassioned bunch, even if it meant knocking over innocent bystanders in the process. Oh and venue staff who simply cut the band’s sound and lights once they exceeded the time allowance for their set could probably act with a little more tact next time. Way to ruin a gig, fuckos.