Oct 102016



I’ve been stalling on the Day 3 recap and I think it’s because it was just a very underwhelming day for me for some reason. Maybe because it started out shittily when Henry was all, “LET US NOT FORGET WE ARE NOT RICH” and then took me to some shady Burger King/Dunkin Donuts/gas station compound in some industrial area near Douglas Park where we had cheap, greasy breakfast and I refused to use the bathroom because it required one to ask the person behind the Burger King counter to push a button to unlock it and that seemed like a HASSLE so I pouted about it and then Henry suggested that he would go and ask them to push the button on my behalf so I could just stand by the door and wait for it to open, but then I had more off-the-cuff excuses, like how filthy it probably was and I bet there was a Trump sticker in there on the mirror and why is Henry THE WORST UGH.

Then there was some scraggly white guy skulking around outside and I thought he was going to come in and start stabbing us but Henry was like, “WTF are you talking about?” and then the guy was GONE so did my pee-delirium conjure him up? WAS HE NOT REAL?

Anyway, we left and had a million minutes to just cruise around the perimeter of Douglas Park because gates weren’t open yet but luckily they have portapotties outside of the gates so I was able to at least pee before those things got disgusting.


Once we got inside, Henry whined because he forgot the sunblock that he made a huge deal about buying earlier that morning. I saw a man with  AN ENTIRE SHEATH of it slathered across his neck and suggested that Henry just do a drive-by lotion-snatch by dragging his hand across the dude’s throat, but Henry didn’t think this was an excelsior idea.

I mean, the guy had more enough to go around, is all I’m saying.

We walked past some radio station’s booth and “Owner of a Lonely Heart” was playing.

“For years when I was a kid, I thought this was a Police song,” I said to Henry, basically pouring my heart to him. “And when I found out it was actually Yes, I refused to believe it.”

Henry just murmured a “wow” or a “you don’t say” — some sort of placating snort — which made me scream, “HELLO, I TELL YOU THIS SAME STORY EVERY TIME WE HEAR THIS SONG AND YOU NEVER REMEMBER!”

THAT’S BECAUSE HENRY DOESN’T ACTUALLY LISTEN TO ME! He doesn’t care about my musical past!


OK, let’s not beat around the bush. Sunday’s lineup was very underwhelming for me. Friday and Saturday were so stacked, but then Sunday was mostly just two bands that I really wanted to see: Thursday and Deftones.

Here’s who we saw:

  • The Bronx: It’s been a few years since we last saw The Bronx (I think at Warped Tour) so I was pretty stoked to get the day started right. Henry even clapped once! I’ll never understand his criteria for not hating a scream-y band, but apparently The Bronx meets it.


  • Frank Iero and the Patience: Last time I saw Frank was two years ago with a different band (or the same just with a different name? I don’t follow him closely enough to know these things) called the Cellabration. My favorite part of this set was before it even started, when one of the security broads came over and started talking to me about my Marcy tattoo and then we had a long ass talk about pets and Henry was just like, “I’m going to back up a bit so that I don’t get dragged into this conversation too” and it was really nice actually! Her name was Misha. I preferred her over the three idiots who squeezed in next to me and proceeded to talk about how they didn’t really even know who was Frank Iero is but they were happy that the stage was in the shade. And the one guy had his back toward the stage through most of the set and stood there directly facing me. It was so uncomfortable. I checked twitter at one point just to have somewhere else to put my eyes since dude was so close to my face, and I saw that Nick Martin from Sleeping with Sirens tweeted that Frank Iero was currently killing it at Riot Fest, so I was like, HENRY, NICK MARTIN IS HERE and within a minute, Henry found him because Henry begrudgingly knows who everyone is thanks to me shoving it into his face. “Doesn’t he wear those stupid hats*?” Henry asked. I saw yeah because I knew exactly what Henry meant, so Henry pointed into the middle of the crowd and said, “He’s right there, with that girl in a tye-died dress.” Henry: Scene Dad Extraordinare.
    • *a newsboy cap.
      • What the hell, I just opened up Instagram because I needed to take a break from purging all of this information and this is literally, no joke, you have my word, the second picture that popped up in my feed, from NICK MARTIN:




  • All Dogs: We had time to kill after Frank Iero, so we went over and sat by the two small stages, where we caught a bit of All Dogs who weren’t bad for a girl singer. Henry had no comment.
  • Dee Snider: This was me throwing a bone to Henry, but also because I was mildly interested in seeing him too. “My only knowledge of Twisted Sister is from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure and Flight of the Navigator,” I admitted to Henry on our walk over to the Roots Stage and he was just like, “Oh for god’s sake.” Um, I don’t know what to say about Dee Snider. He got the crowd hyped? We made it through one song before Henry said, “OK, I’m satisfied. Let’s go.”


  • Juliette Lewis and the Licks: I mean, come on — it’s Juliette fucking Lewis. I’m not exactly a fan of her band but I love her as an actress so I felt a certain obligation to at least witness one or two songs in person. She is definitely a performer! And she can sing! But I just don’t really like that style of rock so I would probably not buy her album or go out of my way to see another show. She was a great crowd-surfer though!


I was getting cranky as fuck during her set, so Henry fed me. I had the good old standby: Connie’s pizza. Who cares what Henry had. A hotdog probably.

Honestly, I think Henry and I both chose poorly and we should have skipped both Dee and Juliet in favor or With Our Arms to the Sun. Sigh.

  • A Will Away: I have been dying to see these guys again since they opened for Pentimento last fall. The downside though is that I could only stick around for three of their songs because their set overlapped with Thursday. But I was happy to have the opportunity to stand at the barrier and support this small band for as long as I could because they’re so good! Love you, bebes. Come back to Pittsburgh soon so I can give you my full, undivided attention!


A Will Away at Riot Fest last month.

A post shared by Erin (@ohhonestlyconcerts) on

  • THURSDAY!!! Oh you guys I was waiting for this moment all weekend. When Thursday broke up, I was devastated. I didn’t get a chance to see them on their final tour and at that time, it didn’t seem like a reunion was ever in the cards because they were kind of open about the fact that they just weren’t able to work together. But they quietly and unexpectedly started hinting at something earlier in the year, and I told Henry, “I bet they’re going to play Riot Fest!” and I was right. God, I love being right. Anyway, Henry doesn’t like Thursday and didn’t even care when Geoff Rickly passed out on stage at Coachella 2004 because he was ill. Henry has no heart. Also, it occurs to me that there were a ton of bands I got to see at this year’s Riot Fest that I had also seen twelve years ago at Coachella. What a weird parallel. Geoff told us that they everyone in the band was able to work out their differences and now they were back to enjoying each other’s company and it seemed so genuine to me but Henry just rolled his eyes. Look, Geoff has terrible luck when it comes to the industry and I’m just always rooting for him so stuff your jeers back up into your asshole, Henry. Ugh.


Real tears. 👌🏼😭

A post shared by Erin Appledale (@ohhonestlyerin) on

  • Bad Religion: I mean, kind of required, right? You can’t go to a festival like this and not stick around for at least a few Bad Religion songs. Henry was like, “I do not care for these people either way” but I was glad to rest for awhile during their set because I was just feeling so tired and weak probably from all the crying and swooning I had been doing all weekend.
  • Underoath: Another recently reunited band. Henry was like “I do not know any of their songs” but he knew that this is the band with Aaron Gillespie and even knew what he looked like, so it was yet another small victory for me—Henry hears some of what I say! SOME.

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  • Deftones: Gahhhhh, how have I only seen this damn band one time!? It was all the way back in 2001 when I went to Rolling Rock Town Fair with my ex-friend’s ex-husband (NOT a date but I think he might have thought it was and it was extremely awkward and really hot and might have been the worst music festival I’ve ever gone to in my whole entire life and just thinking about it makes me feel uncomfortable). So even though I don’t really keep up with their current music, I was still stoked to see them, especially since they played right around dusk and it was kind of romantic — well, it could have been but Henry and I were both on each others nerves by then I think.
    • This band brings back really warm and vibrant memories of driving like a maniac in my Eagle Talon all hours of night during the summer of 1998, blasting Deftone’s “Adrenaline” CASSETTE TAPE and just having the best fucking summer of my life. “Bored” was my motherfucking jam. They didn’t play it at Riot Fest, but they treated us with enough old shit that I was satiated.
  • Rob Zombie: I am by no means a Rob Zombie fan (though I do I appreciate some of his contributions to the horror  movie industry) so we actually didn’t intend to watch any of his set (he was performing White Zombie’s Astro-Creep 2000 in its entirety), yet we caught some of it anyway just by being in the general proximity. Henry wanted to just leave after Deftones, and to be honest, I would have been fine with that but I felt like, as a music lover at heart, I felt that I needed to experience at least a few minutes of the Misfits (more on that in a bit). Anyway, Rob was OK! I didn’t hate it. I knew more songs than I thought I would.
    • HOWEVER, the little “mall” area was right near the two main stages, so we went over to finally get Henry a Stheart beanie since every year I’m like, “Get a Stheart beanie” and he never does. We ended up getting into a fight at this time because that’s what spending money does—pits us against each other.  So picture it: it’s super dark, Riot Fest is at its peak as far as attendance, and I decide I’ll show Henry who’s boss BY STORMING OFF AND TRYING TO LOSE HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CRAZY FUCKING ROB ZOMBIE/PRE-MISFITS CROWD. I mean, what is that even going to prove?! I thought that I had efficiently lost his tail, and so I plopped down in the middle of the park, not giving a fuck about getting trampled, and just sat there in full pout-mode. A few minutes later, I happened to look over my shoulder and that motherfucker was standing back there laughing at me, because of course he wouldn’t let me out of his sight, he’s like a Professional Dad. So them I reluctantly went over to stand with him because let’s be real: I didn’t know where he parked the car and even if I did, my set of car keys were back home in Pittsburgh with my wallet because I’m still an irresponsible child. When I got to Henry’s side, he started cracking up and then I did too even though I was trying to be angry.
      • Apparently, in the five minutes we were estranged, some kid was standing next to Henry and then must have recognized him as a NARC because Henry said he got all flustered and hurriedly put away his drugs and then left. Nice job, Cap’n DEA!
  • Sleater Kinney: They played at the same time as Rob Zombie, but we got to see some of their set when we cut across the park for dinner (I had a veggie dog with veggie chili and Henry bought a full Connie’s pizza which they were selling for $10 at the end of the night in an effort to get rid of everything.  I’m not a huge riot grrl by any means, but I was glad that we got a small dose of Sleater Kinney, especially when they commended Riot Fest’s no tolerance/anti-harassment policy. Every time someone uses the stage and their microphone to speak out about this issue, a rapist loses a dick. (NOT REALLY BUT I WISH.)

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  • The Misfits: A few months ago, Riot Fest announced that the ORIGINAL LINE UP of the Misfits were reuniting after 33 years, and Riot Fest snagged them as the main headliner of the weekend. It was a huge deal, all music websites were writing about it, it was trending on Twitter, even people I work with had heard about it and recognized it as a huge deal. But….I was just like “meh” paired with an uncommitted shrug. Yes, I understood the gravity of this announcement, that it was like the Haley’s Comet of the music industry. I understood how much of an impact they’ve had on the scene, how they’ve inspired current bands that I love, how many of my friends were excited yet also jealous that I was going to be there for this. But let me tell you what the Misfits represent for me. They represent a shitty, abusive, psychologically-damaging relationship I was in when I was 17-19. I dated a guy who loved them. We would listen to them in his car, even though I loved rap music back then. I never complained and was open to learning about them, and Anal Cunt, and Gwar. Mike loved the Misfits so much, and for our first Valentine’s Day, I used my mom’s AmEx to buy him some fancy boxed set that came in a coffin and set me (lol, my mom) back $70. In return, he took me to Donut Connection that night, where I had to watch him eat a donut and drink coffee because I didn’t bring any money with me and he only had a coupon for himself. It’s not that I expected some lavish gift, for him to spend as much on me as I had on him, but it was the fact that he completely disregarded my gift, overlooked the sentiment, and then just took an insulting dump all over the night. So when I think of the Misfits, I think of that fucking asshole and all the shitty things he did to me and how nothing I did for him was ever enough and Henry, I’m sorry I’m a shitty girlfriend but THAT GUY TOOK ALL I HAD TO GIVE. I mean….breathe Erin. Breathe.  So yeah, the Misifts. Cool show. We left after four songs.


Well, if you made it this far, congratulations! Here is a YouTube of my Snapchat stories for all three days, because why not.


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