One of
the advantages of not being part of a clique in the local punk scene
is that I am able to stand back on the periphery and just be a fan of
the music. When I go to a show, I normally stand by the soundboard
or in a corner by the nearest exit. This is an attempt to be left
alone to enjoy the music which is the sole reason I left the house
and put up with traffic to drive across town in the first place.
I'm a
generation behind the one that included Submachine and Aus-Rotten,
and two behind the one that included Half Life and Real Enemy, so I
don't have a personal connection to any of the members of those
bands. My only connection is through the records which were readily
available at my local store. I came into the scene from the metal
end of the spectrum because I worked at a sandwich shop with the
singer of the band I lugged gear for. My introduction to the punkier
end of the pool came from friends of my sister.
I
didn't have to put up with the politics of the scene or any he
said/he said conflicts that always cropped up when people got
competitive. I didn't have to conform to any punk rock fashion
uniform. As much as these people didn't care about how they looked,
they sure did care way too much about how everyone else looked. I
would dress for the weather instead of wearing a denim jacket,
bedazzled with spikes and the sleeves cut off in the middle of
winter. Chuck Taylor's don't really work too well when there's a few
inches of snow on the ground and the temperature might get close to
20.
One of
the more rigid, implied rules of the scene was to toil away in
obscurity for a few years and then break up or risk any and all punk
rock credibility. If your band started gaining traction and you were
able to tour outside of the tri-state area, in places that weren't
basements, you were cast out and ridiculed. I was always under the
impression that being in a band and staying in a band was the goal.
That's the difference between a weekend warrior-hobbyist that still
has a day job and an actual musician.
If a
band was able to manage being on the road for eleven months out of
the year, that was somehow considered “selling out.” I think it
was jealousy on the part of everyone that was still stranded in
Pittsburgh. Or, maybe, it was their lack of ambition that kept them
tied down to playing the same bar every other weekend while the same
fifteen to twenty people drank at them. What's more punk
rock/anarchist than making a living outside of the usual economic
means by living off of your art?
Even
when I worked shows on the regular, I would head home as soon as the
van was loaded unless there was a stop for post-show food. I had
more of a connection to the music than the people involved with
playing it so when the music was over there was no point in hanging
around so I'd split. My usual standoff-ish relationship with
humanity prevented me from wanting to hang out while folks
participated in post-show extracurricular chemistry. As I look back
on it, I think I was looking for something a little more high minded
and artsy than the bunch of schlubs looking to get laid because they
were in a band that I ended up with.
There
are no pictures of me hanging out outside of a venue before or after
a show with a group of friends but I still have all of the records
and I still listen to them on a regular basis. I couldn't tell you if
they were any good because I'm too close to them to listen
objectively and I think that's okay. The records are my yearbook or
shoebox of dogeared pictures and I'm alright with that.
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