Oct 282016
 

Sometimes I go to a show and feel like a whole new person when I leave.

I was already planning on going to the Joyce Manor show at the Rex on Monday, but  I was nervous. I was relatively sure I knew what the crowd was going to be like, and that I would probably be fine, but I was going alone and was I ready to jump back in so soon after such a miserable night in Columbus?

LOL, yes I was ready. Sure, I was still furious but I wasn’t going to let a bunch of drunk Ohio bitches ruin every ensuing show for me. So Henry dropped me off at the Rex after work and I stood in line with all my people, and I felt like this was where I needed to be. Around all these people who were there for the same reason as me.

Decent humans.

And guess what — some of them were drinking, but because everyone was there for the music and not to drink their faces off while making rhythmic vagina offerings, there were no tense situations or people to brand as douchebags or assholes. The whole night felt like one, long, stress-relieving sigh.

As such, I don’t have much to report!

But let’s get the one and only downside tof the whole night out of the way, and its a pretty mild, non-complaint: I didn’t love the opening band, Crying. They’re a Run For Cover band, so I didn’t stumble into this blindly by any means; I knew what to expect and I had a feeling that seeing them live wasn’t going to push two puzzle pieces together in my brain, making me magically fall in love with them. But, I didn’t necessarily dislike them, either! It just wasn’t my style of music (kind of lo-fi, 90s twee…I don’t know, I’m not good with this type of music!) but I really honestly did enjoy watching their singer—she was fucking adorable and gave good, awkwardly sincere banter. Maybe one day they’ll click for me, and make the Run For Cover puzzle in my heart one are closer to completion. 

Whatever that means. 

And then: The Hotelier.  I stood to the left of the stage all night and no one bothered me. No one loudly spoke about sports or their relationships or Luluroe to their friends while the bands were playing. No one was mean or hateful. It was just a bunch of people who were super intense about these bands, all in one room together, sharing one long, special moment.

I have wanted to see this band for awhile now and always miss them. But tonight was my time and it was a goddamn delight. 

Even the singer of the Hotelier paused in between songs to comment on how attentive everyone was. I could honestly hear people around me breathing, that’s how quiet it was in between songs, like we were in church, hanging off every note and word.

The Hotelier is everything. ūüíó

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If the Hotelier gave GREAT spiritual foreplay….

…then Joyce Manor brought the motherfucking homily. 

That room fucking blew up with emo passion-crackers when the opening note of Heart Tattoo was strummed and the crowd never lost an ounce of verve after that. 

So many fists in the air, so many stage divers, so many earnest singalongs. I felt like I was home, with my people, taking a fucking Communion wafer right on the tongue. 

Chooch just rolled his eyes at my post-show hyperactivity.

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^^^Fuuuuuuck. 

I can’t tell you why….maybe it’s one of those feelings or concepts that has no corresponding word in the English language, but I left the Rex that night feeling like something had shifted inside me, like I had just experienced pure, unadulterated beauty at the same time as several hundred other people, and we all knew it. 

Sometimes I go to a show and feel like a whole new person when I leave, and this was definitely one of those shows.

****


Snagged this limited edition tour screenprint on my way out (only 30 were made!) and when I got in the car with it, Henry was like, “Oh boy, another poster closer to living in one giant dorm room.”

He doesn’t get it. Not like you do. Or do you. Tell me you do. 

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