10-10-12

One-ball B.

Oh, menneke. Slightly last-minute, the guys from Off The Charts arranged a show for their buds Apologies, I Have None in Leuven, at the infamous Rockcafé. So, yay! There were a couple of my favourite things represented at this show: Apologies, beer, pre-show pizza, Jordi Ostir, punk dancing, de Pejer and the Off The Chaars dudes.

Because of delay there was plenty of hangout time, which is fun. Punk rock shows are a bit like elementary school. During the sets you have to pay attention to the band, between the sets you talk to friends and meet new people. Like this guy, Arthur, who I've met at the Joyce Manor show, who is a real cool dude and he told me he liked my zine so I like him. That's how I roll.
The difference with school is that school drools and punk rules. Guess you all knew that.

When Silver & Gold started, I was... amazed. I haven't seen them before but I'm totally into it. Hoarse vocals and melodic riffage. Really great show, full of energy despite just coming out of a traffic jam or something. Killer songs & riffs. Yup, I dig it. You should too!

Up next: Apologies, I Have None. 4th time seeing 'em. And you know what they say, huh. Fourth time's a charm! And it was rather charming, actually. After a quick soundcheck they started playing a song I didn't know, with a mic that was showing troubles. It got solved though, and just in time too! The next thing I new they started playing Sat In Viccy Park and everyone went nuts. I'm not fucking kidding! everyone seemed to be into it. Dancing around, moving about, pogoing, punk mosh, stagedives, crowdsurfs, and lots, lots of singalongs. Mic stands barely survived. I think nobody really expected it, neither the band nor the audience. But it happened and it was really fun. It had been a while since I left an punk rock show sweaty like a pig, so that felt pretty good and satisfying. I'm a nutcase sometimes. The entire show was top notch, the band played at what I assume was their very best. All hits, no shits. All kills, no fills. Ya know. The fucking 26, man. The 26, dude. The god damn 26.
Yeah.

Post-show hangouts were lotsa fun. Sometimes I wish my life was a punk rock show. Sometimes I think it is.
Got a ride home with the Dilbeek punx (real punx, pissing on cars and stuff) and walked on top of bicycles.
Great night.

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