I wish I could properly explain the wrath I dealt with back in May when Chooch realized he was going to miss a headlining Summer Set show in Pittsburgh because we were in Michigan for Bledfest (something that only I wanted to do and Henry and Chooch got stuck going along for the ride and hated every second of it). “But it’s cool because you’ll get to see them at Warped Tour!” I reasoned, and Chooch seemed pacified by this.

And then there was more, even greater wrath in July when we realized that The Summer Set was only going to be on the second leg of Warped Tour, so Chooch would have to miss them again. 

And then there was no Pittsburgh date for their fall tour, but there was a Columbus show that fell on a Saturday so Henry and I felt it was worth it. Look, The Summer Set is not necessarily a band I would go out of my way for, but Chooch is really taken by them, for whatever reason. And who am I to deny my kid the pleasure of seeing one of his favorite bands? I mean, look at how bent out of shape I get when I have to miss seeing one of my favorite bands!

If you read my lame-o live blog post, some of this you already know. Like, the fact that Henry booted us out onto the curb and then went carousin’ around Columbus for….litter boxes and ginger tea. Henry knows how to live it up.

The venue was the A&R Music Bar. I’ve never been there before and I get really nervous about taking my kid to venues I know nothing about. But…the show was all ages, so I figured we’d be fine. Here in Pittsburgh, most of the venues won’t let you bring drinks out of the bar area, so I assumed it would be like that here too.

But no! It was a fucking free-for-all. The bar wasn’t separate all, and while I imagined the crowd would mostly consist of underaged girls, there actually seemed to be more adults there.

Drunk adults.

All over.

Being rude.

Standing in front of Chooch.

Talking over all of the bands.

I was just really rubbed the wrong way almost immediately and had this dire urge to have Henry come and get us and then we could just go do something touristy or…I don’t know…go home. I hate when I get those bad feelings! And I just couldn’t shake this one at all.

Chooch and I were so hateful of the crowd that we opted to go out on the patio and hang out with the all of the smokers, even though it was about 40 degrees out. We could actually see the stage better from out there and the sound wasn’t muted much at all.

That dude up there in the white shirt was the opener. I think his name was Chase? No. It’s Hudson Thames. I pretended for a second to be committed to the art of blogging and actually researched that shit.

Um…Hudson had a great voice! But I wasn’t entranced.  And then after his set, he took off his shirt and threw it into the crowd, like OK Tacky.

William Beckett was next. I had no idea he was on this tour, and when he walked past us when we were standing in line, I was like, “That guy looks familiar” but then figured it was just because he reminded me of someone who would have been in a Sid & Marty Kroft television show, and didn’t think about it again until we were inside and I was buying Chooch his 374872389465th Summer Set shirt, when I looked over and saw the guy again, and then my eyes drifted to the side of his head and I noticed all of the William Beckett merch on the wall and realized that oh shit, that’s William Beckett from The Academy Is… what the fuck is he doing opening for the Summer Set?!

We only stuck around for two of his songs because, ask Chooch, we were surrounded by drunk broads with really annoying voices. I will never understand why people pay money to go to a show and then stand with their back to the stage scream-talking to their friends. Like, just go to a regular bar for that, or have a fucking house party. I guess I just don’t get it. MAYBE BECAUSE I’M TOO SQUARE. I’M SO SQUARE THAT I USED THE TERM “SQUARE.”

After William Beckett, Chooch and I went back inside, on a quest to find somewhere decent to stand where he could see and we wouldn’t be inadvertently wrapped up in a Snuggie of drunk douchebags. We ventured further and further up toward the front of the venue until we were next to the side of the stage. There were several other people standing there, and Chooch was happy enough with the unobstructed view that he didn’t care if he was just going to see the Summer Set’s profiles.

Eventually though, one of the staff ladies came over and said that we were going to have to move back more into the main area when the band came out, and we were like, “Ugh fine.” However, two girls came into the venue with one of the Summer Set guys (Josh, according to Chooch) and stood next to Chooch and the staff lady was just like, “Fine I give up. Stand there. Create a fire hazard. Oh well.”

I mean, probably that’s what she was thinking, and not, “Gotta catch ’em all.”

HERE IS A REALLY DETAILED, ARCHITECTURALLY ACCURATE BLUEPRINT OF THE LAYOUT:

You can see how we were keeping an open area so that traffic could freely flow to and from the exit.

I was so pleased with how this night had panned out! Chooch was in a comfortable spot, I had a thing to lean my old ass body against, the band was playing pleasant pop music that I generally wouldn’t care about but have learned to semi-like thanks to Chooch (I REALLY LIKE THEIR NEW SONG “JEAN JACKET” AND I DON’T CARE WHO KNOWS IT)….Some old broad had migrated to our area with her niece who was around the same age as Chooch, and she and I were exchanging pleasantries, and that’s when I made the mistake.

I said words.

I jinxed myself.

“This is the perfect spot,” I yelled into my new friend’s hair.

“Yeah it really is!” she said, and we leaned back against the bar, smiling as our young companions danced and clapped to The Summer Set.

Then that lady left. I don’t know where she went, to the back of the room with her niece, I guess. And then suddenly, a group of 6 totally trashed bitches came barreling up from the back of the room and stuffed themselves into the area area between those of us leaning against the bar and the few people in front of us at the barricade.

They were flailing around, screaming like infants, holding their cans of Coors Light like torches over their perfect heads of hair, sloshing beer around like a stinky sprinkler system, and being generally REALLY FUCKING INTRUSIVE.

Luckily, the staff lady swooped in from her station at the door and yelled, “You guys have to move! We have to keep this area open!”

Of course, they wouldn’t move. Why would they move? They were fucking entitled little bitches who owned the place.

All I knew was that they were potentially going to ruin things for Chooch. I had a feeling that if they didn’t move, that broad was going to come back and make us ALL move. So I kind of nudged one of them so she’d move, instead of pancaking me against the edge of bar like she was currently doing. I mean, they brought major pandemonium to our nice little area of the venue, and everything was happening so fast…

But I didn’t think this prissy little girl was actually going to flip out from being subtly nudged.

“That bitch PUSHED ME!” she shrieked to the staff lady, who was just like, “Oh OK” and then walked away. When she didn’t get the attention she craved, she continued to scream her face off about me pushing her, and I was so confused…was she actually talking about me? Because I used like three finger tips to give her a tiny prod in the direction that the lady wanted her to move, and also it was to get her fucking gross Aztec sweater out of my face.

So then she ran over to the lone guy in their crew and hysterically cried, “THAT BITCH PUSHED ME!” but as I would find out later, she wasn’t the one in the group he was fucking, so he just looked at me and then looked at her and shrugged.

Two of her other friends were oblivious to her plight, and instead continued performing their bizarre, primitive vagina dance which involved them leaning back in their best Limbo pose while facing each other, and making sensual “offering” motions with their hands above their crotches. So I’m like completely mesmerized by this weird menstrual witch jig when I suddenly feel a sharp blow to my ribcage because Aztec Sweater finally found a friend who cared, and that friend—a frumpy bitch in a plum sweater—wedged herself in between me and the nice, normal girl who was originally standing to my left, and proceeded to passive aggressively assault me with her basic bitch elbow while the THAT BITCH PUSHED ME dialogue continued.

Like, really. You’re going to stand there and play these middle school games, like you’re trying to bully me in the back of the classroom while the teacher has her back turned? Because that’s what that shit felt like.

So I dug my feet into the floor and started to push back into her because bitch, you picked the wrong girl. I wasn’t going to move.

But I also wasn’t going to ruin Chooch’s night. Because by this point, my whole body felt like a whistling tea kettle. I could hear the blood rushing into my head, like sheet metal crashing in my ears. I was starting to shake, because what I really wanted to do WAS GRAB THIS BITCH BY THE HAIR. Not even the girl I supposedly pushed! But this fucking plum tunic hag. I wanted to actually fight her and it has been a long time since I felt this out of control in public, and I had literally zero sips of alcohol in me. No, this bitch alone was bringing out pure, unadulterated, primal rage.

Then I looked up and saw Chooch, applauding in between songs, and got myself in check real quick.

CONSEQUENCES, BLAH BLAH BLAH.

This isn’t to say I was going to stand there and be steam-rolled by this fucker. So I turned and tapped her on the arm.

“Excuse me, but I didn’t PUSH your friend,” I yelled into her ear.

“WELL THAT LADY YELLED AT US AND TOLD US TO MOVE AND THERE’S NOWHERE FOR US TO GO SO YOU HAVE TO MOVE TOO!” she yelled back, sounding like an actual brat. I mean, that staff lady didn’t YELL at them, she was just trying to do her job.

“I’ve been standing here since before The Summer Set went on, and my kid is right up there, so no, I’m not moving,” I said, and I was so surprised at how RATIONAL AND NON-HYSTERICAL I SOUNDED. I realllly didn’t want Chooch to turn around and see his mom acting like white trash. 

“OK, well then we’re good here!” she yelled, like suddenly everything had changed now that she knew I’M A MOM and not just another basic OSU bitch? I mean, she said it in a totally asshole-y way without a DROP of sincerity, but she moved out of my personal bubble and her fucking elbow never touched me again, and then in a strange twist of events, the weird vagina dancers actually became pretty amusing to me and we had several moments throughout the night where we laughed at things together and I know that infuriated the other two girls WHO I WILL NEVER BE COOL WITH IN REAL LIFE, NOT IN A MILLION YEARS, I don’t care how much Aztec Sweater looked like Missy Franklin and I LOVE MISSY FRANKLIN.

I can’t even put into words how much it ruined my night, my weekend, my joy of being at a concert, my faith in humanity (not that I had much to begin with but still). Shows are safe zones for me. It’s where I feel at home and comfortable in my skin, where I can leave my stress and tension at the door, and I want Chooch to feel that way too. But all this shit was playing out right behind him and even though he never turned around and saw it all, he was still annoyed by these people for his own reasons. It made me feel like I put him in a potentially unsafe situation and that’s a really terrible feeling for a parent.

But he still said he had a great time, and the guitar tech gave him a pick (you can see that in the end of the below video!).

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I pretty much raged about this to Henry during the entire three hour drive back home to Pittsburgh and he was like, “OK what do you want me to do” because he’s so SUPPORTIVE, so then I texted Chris and Monica who TOTALLY UNDERSTOOD AND WERE ON MY SIDE SO THERE HENRY. And I’m not going to lie, I kind of half-expected them to follow us outside after the show and start shit with me again, so I spent the rest of the show trying to put together some kind of game plan in my head, which was basically just COMING IN LIKE A WRECKING BALL.

And then running.

There were like six of them!

Well, four. Those vagina dancers were way too drunk to fight.

All I know is that I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Because I don’t know about you, but I try to live my life without getting stabbed or thrown in the slammer. 

*****

I was down about it all day yesterday at work. I only told Glenn, Todd, and Wendy because even just talking about it made me feel so shitty all over again. I’m so glad that these things happen so rarely, because I would probably never go to a show again.

When I saw Chooch after work, I asked him if he told his friends about going to see The Summer Set.

“No, not really,” he said, because his school friends just don’t relate to these things. “Well, I did tell them about how that one girl spilled her beer on my leg.”

UGH GREAT. MOTHER OF THE FUCKING YEAR.

Irony.

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!

UGH.

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:

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• 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!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BLY6fC1D2kS/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

• 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.

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• 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.

I      

• 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.)

• 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.

OMG OK so Dance Gavin Dance was in town on Monday and it was the longest work day of my life. I was so giddy about it too because DGD is just so much fun and they make me feel pure happiness, which is an anomaly for me considering all I do is cry cry cry at shows. But this current version of DGD, fronted by Tilian, just makes me want to dance my fucking face off.

I was so excited about it that at the end of our weekly meeting that night, I blurted out, “I’M GOING TO SEE DANCE GAVIN DANCE TONIGHT YOU GUYS” and everyone was like, “Wow. Cool story. Poor Henry.”

Before leaving work, I went to change my clothes in the bathroom and that’s when I realized that I only brought jeans and not a shirt so I got to wear the fucking BLOUSE I had on at work to the goddamn DGD show like a fucking WORKING MOM.

I mean, I am a working mom but those kids don’t need to know that. Ugh.

“You still look cute though!” Amber¹ said when I whined to her about it in GAYLE’S HALLWAY.

(Seriously, Gayle has her own hallway.)

UGH FINE.

Henry picked me up from work and we went straight to Millvale, where we had some time to have a very fancy dinner at Subway. I was happy that they have wraps there because I was carrying a pie baby (thanks, pie party) and barely wanted to eat anything but I also didn’t want to pass out at the show. The two people working there were such assholes. Like, grow a personality. Fucking fake it if you have to! Don’t make me feel like a reject because I only want black olives, tomatoes, spinach and then more black olives on my red pepper hummus wrap, you dumb cooze.

Oh for God’s sake, I was so miserable during their set and actually felt like trapped.

Like I was in a cage.

LIKE I WAS A GOOD TIGER IN A CAGE SUBJECTED TO BAD MUSIC.

But then Hail the Sun came out and made it all OK. (Well, for me, anyway. Henry hates Hail the Sun.)

I have nothing but good words for these guys. I’ve seen them so many times over the years (mostly with DGD!) and they just keep getting better. I have a greater appreciation for them now though. I love watching Donovan do his crazy dancing on stage, and that’s Henry’s least favorite part because Henry hates watching people exhibit joy and passion.

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BUT SERIOUSLY THIS FUCKING SONG OW MY HEART. I love when he says “t-t-telephone.” It makes me clasp my hands against my chest like I just watched my kid take his first step or something. I don’t know, I’m trying to be RELATABLE.

I just asked Henry, off the cuff, to tell me what he thinks about Hail the Sun and he murmured, “I don’t think about them.”

He made copious comments about Donovan’s dancing that night though.

I just realized that Henry is just jealous.

And the night just got better from there. The Contortionist came out next and I honestly had never heard of them before so I had no idea what to expect. They started out with a very theatrical, slow burn of an intro. OK, they had my attention. They reminded me of elements of Dredg and Tool. Maybe even a little Earshot. 

Later, I found out that they primarily tour with metal bands I’m just not into, like Born of Osiris, Veil of Maya, Hatebreed, Killswitch Engage — so it makes sense that I’ve never come across them before. That’s way out of my wheelhouse. 

The singer’s voice was ethereal and effortlessly beautiful. But the most interesting part about him was the controlled way he slowly moved around the stage, alternating between fluid and jerky movements. It was like we were watching him through a strobe light and it just made me so uneasy yet absolutely enrapt.

And then he started screaming his fucking throat raw, causing a violent circle pit to open up and people were doing weird hand things and this is when I was convinced that the singer is a cult leader.

I was also kind of legit scared. The singer reminded me of Voldemort.

“HASHTAG SO OBSESSED!” I shouted in Henry’s ear, who just frowned in response.

Henry frowned, not his ear.

There was a moment when the singer hit a certain note so angelically that I spontaneously burst into tears.

Henry knew this was going to happen.

I was hooked, you guys. His voice. Their music. The whole aesthetic. I guess I’m now an official worshiper of the house of The Contortionist. Catch ya later, Catholicism.

I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE THEM AGAIN!!!

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In between bands, Toto’s Africa came on, inciting a deliriously loud sing-along inside Mr. Smalls, and Henry slept through through the whole thing…..while leaning against a wall. 

He told me later that he wasn’t “sleeping,” he was “trying not to pass out.”

LOLOL.

It’s OK to laugh, guys. He’s fine.

And then….OMG OMG OMG it was time for Dance Gavin Dance! You bet your ass I sweat all the way through my dumb blouse during their set because it’s DGD and who can stand still during their show?! I mean, besides Henry?!

Tilian fractured his leg over the summer and was propped up on crutches, so we didn’t get to see any of his sweet dance moves (much to Henry’s relief* — he is like, so hard to impress when it comes to stage presence), but even standing still, he was a fucking star. (He did treat us to some body rolls though because he’s Tilian and that’s what Tilian does.)

*(Does Henry just hate dancing in general? IS HENRY THE DAD FROM FOOTLOOSE?!?!)

The energy in the room was off the charts and I just lost my mind screaming like it was Beatlesmania in 2016. This band inflates my heart with unadulterated, all natural, no-preservatives-added joy. I wish I could explain it, but their sick beats and weird lyrics breathe life back into me, and in one hour they were able to reverse the negative effects the last several months have had on me. HOW?! I don’t know! Aside from Henry’s kids, I have never been able to get any of my friends into this band, so I can’t quite put my finger on what it is about them that draws me to them, but they had a pull on me since the very first time I heard them nearly 10 years ago, and through three different vocalists and a million various line-up changes, my devotion to them has never faltered.

Because they make me feel like THIS! Giddy and ridiculous!

Ugh, they’re just so fun. And their set list was bonkers too – they covered all eras – but my only complaint was that it was so short. Only an hour! They have seven albums at this point and could play for so much longer if they would stop taking so many bands on tour with them. It should have just been Hail the Sun and The Contortionist.

Maybe bring out a chair for Tilian so he doesn’t have to stand on a broken leg, you know? WE DON’T MIND.

At one point, some girl came shooting out of the middle of the crowd and practically lunged at me, putting me in some strange hug-like thing, and nearly knocking me against the wall.

I was so confused, wondering if I knew her.

“I lost my shoe!” she kept yelling to me. And then some guy came and retrieved her. I noticed that she had both shoes on, right before she was swallowed up by the crowd. I exchanged shrugs with the girl next to me and then we laughed and went back to freaking out over Dance Gavin Dance. I LOVE EVERYONE AT DGD SHOWS.

COCAINE CRINGE FEST!!!!

In between songs, Tilian mentioned that this was the first night they had their new, not-yet-released album available at their merch booth, which was perfect because I never got around to pre-ordering it since Riot Fest made us poor, so I told Henry we needed to get it.

“Then we’ll have to leave before it’s over so we don’t have to wait in line,” Henry shouted back into my ear.

I was like OH HELL NAW, I’m not leaving a goddamn DGD early, who does he think he’s suggesting this to? Some working mom in a blouse?

“Well, why don’t you just go over there now and get it,” I countered, and he did as he was told.

Several minutes passed and I became acutely aware that he never returned. Usually I can feel his dumb belly pushing against my back because he stands so fucking close to me like he’s suddenly Mr. Possessive when we all know he doesn’t give a fuck. Yeah, he went to buy the record for me and never came back. That motherfucker went straight back to the car!

Ballsy move, Hank.

Good thing DGD puts me in a zone and I really didn’t care either way. Henry told me later, “I mean, I like Dance Gavin Dance. But there was only like 20 minutes left anyway, and you know, I’ve seen them before, so.”

Wow.

Cool reasoning, bro.

SET LIST:

• Chucky vs. The Giant Tortoise
• Stroke God Millionaire
• On the Run
• Spooks (!!!!!!!!!!!)
• Tree Village
• FLOSSIE DICKEY BOUNCE!
• Death of a Strawberry
• Strawberry Swisher Pt 3 (I lose my mind during the “keep my fingers crossed, I want to be somewhere that I belong” part every single time)
• Betrayed By the Game
• Lemon Meringue Tie <33333333333333333333
• We Own the Night
• Alex English

This just isn’t enough, but I’ll take what I can get.

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You guys, it’s so wonderful. (And yes, the only record player in our house right now belongs to Chooch the Hipster. And he doesn’t let me forget it, either.)

I have been in the best mood since Monday night.

Henry is upstairs sleeping so I just called him on the phone, from the couch, to get a quote from him.

“I cant believe you called me for this,” Henry sighed around his mouth cobwebs. “Why do you make me do this stuff. I don’t know. I like Dance Gavin Dance.”

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN, DANCE GAVIN DANCE. <3

It’s hard to believe that I’ve been a fan of Anthony Green for 12 years now and have never gone to any of his solo shows. I’ve seen Circa Survive a ton of times, and even Saosin and the Sound of Animals Fighting. But never just Anthony.

Henry and I actually had a mild argument over this when he was driving me to Mr. Small’s last Thursday, because even he was like, “No, that’s ridiculous and you must be wrong.”

But then he remembered how relieved he was to be depositing me on a curb and then driving off into the sunset (wait, what direction does the sun set…) with Chooch. I think they went to Taco Bell and then probably back home where they sat around in their underwear until it was time to come back to Millvale and pick me up.

The rest of the evening was full of beautiful music, but very little drama, so I’m afraid that this recap might be a little bland. I didn’t hate anyone there! No one made me angry! I had very little interactions with anyone other than the fancy-shirted bartender from whom I bought my obligatory nerve-numbing Angry Orchard and a few shared smiles with the other Solo Girl who was standing next to me for the entire show.

I considered talking to her at one point but then remembered how lame I sound in these moments.

Anyway, only three bands for this show! Secret Space started a few minutes after I arrived. I took my favorite spot along the right side of the stage and then did that thing where I pretend to be invisible.

I’ve never listened to Secret Space before and didn’t get a change to even give their bio a cursory glance before Thursday. So, they ended up being great! Just a really nice, pop-rock experience. The singer was pretty entertaining between songs, and I wonder how much of that affected my overall opinion. I feel like the music didn’t really grab me until the banter got my attention, but in any case — I thought they were great….

…just not as great as Mat Kerekes, who was next! Full disclosure, when I saw that he was one of the openers for this show, that was when I really knew I needed to get a ticket. Mat is the singer of Citizen, and I love Citizen so much, I wish I could squish them against my chest until their eyes bulge.

Oh shit, Mat was so personable and I wasn’t expecting that! He doesn’t talk much at Citizen shows so I guess I thought this was going to be some serious, somber shit, I don’t know, but he is so hilarious and irreverent!

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He played one of my favorite Citizen songs, “Sleep,” and then Anthony came out and joined at one point too and of course everyone, even the boys, screamed their faces off, like we weren’t about to see Anthony later for 90 minutes straight.

I kept sending Henry pictures and videos in between sets and he was like, “I don’t care. That’s why I’m not there.”

Boo, Henry. Just boo.

Anthony came out around 9:30 and we all just went nuts. He has got to be, out of every band I’m into, the most charismatic musician I’ve ever seen in person. I have left Circa Survive shows feeling like I just worshiped in the coolest fucking church this side of SAINT GERMAIN AND THE VIOLET FLAME. (Seriously, I’m obsessed with this now thanks to GAYLE.)

I wept, I laughed, I cried. It was wonderful. Anthony is such a fucking delight. And he has overcome so much to be able to still take these stages and heal us.

He said the last time he performed solo in Pittsburgh was four years ago when he was touring in support of his Young Legs album, and that the show he played there at Mr. Small’s was the most fucked up he’s ever been.

Of course, there were people who cheered about this.

“No, don’t applaud that! That’s not cool!” Anthony said. “I was such an asshole that night! I spent the whole time talking in a Bane voice and then I got in a fight with some kid and stormed off the stage. If you were at that show, I’m sorry. And thank you for still coming out to see me.”

I was pretty much choking on tears by this point, because his struggle with heroin has been ongoing since I started listening to Circa Survive all those years ago, and his wife has stuck by him through it all. His album Pixie Queen is about that.

I remember seeing Circa Survive once in 2008 (when they opened for Thrice, coincidentally!) and Anthony just seemed like a mess. I think he was laying on the stage through their whole set and at one point I turned to Henry and said, “OMG is he going to die? I don’t want him to die.”

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It felt good to stand there and scream. And to laugh. And to cry. But mostly it felt good to just smile because that’s something that I hadn’t been doing much last week.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BK902MGjN6c/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

Thank you for being you, Anthony.

****

Recently, I was thinking about how sad I was when I was unable to go to very many shows. Like, I’d see the announcements for bands I liked and then sigh when I saw it was a week night and I couldn’t go because I worked until 9pm & it was a lot more difficult for me to take a day off then.

Or before that when I wasn’t working at all and we just couldn’t afford it. I was lucky if I went to three shows a year then. And I didn’t realize until recently how much of a negative impact that had on me, to love music so much but have to miss out on so many of those experiences.

My mom texted me a link the other night about how people who go to a lot of concerts generally have happier lives and I started to laugh because I had literally just left the Thrice show when I got her text. And it’s true – I can promise you that Henry and I fight a lot less and I don’t feel like I’m sinking in a pit of burning quicksand.

Well, not as much as I used to, anyway.

That being said, I was almost unable to go to the Anthony Green solo show on Thursday because of a last minute shift change and I was ready to raise hell but then everything was fine and I made it to the show and I felt like a thousand pounds of suck had been lifted from my dumb, slumped shoulders.

It was a good reminder not to take these things for granted. To keep going to as many shows as I can because who knows how much longer this will last.

I want to be able to keep paying for concert tickets, not therapy bills.

****

It was pouring down rain by the time the show ended, and that felt kind of perfect. I found Henry and Chooch, sitting down the street in the parked car, looking like creeps, and I rambled the whole way home about how magical Anthony is.

They didn’t care.

I finally managed to get to a point where I can not just tolerate going to shows alone, but I actually enjoy it (don’t think too much into that, Henry!). However, I like when Henry goes with me and then for weeks, I can say things like, “REMEMBER WHEN WE SAW BASEMENT AND ALEX LOOKED SO ADORABLE?!” and Henry will just mumble, “….I guess.”

I think, if I had to choose, that Saturday was my favorite day of Riot Fest. Henry was being a cunt on Friday (he claims he was “tired” and “didn’t feel well;” see also: IS OLD AS FUCK) but after a really great leisurely morning of exploring Little Village and having some legit Mexican breakfast, we were both like, IN SYNC. Like MENSTRUAL CYCLES. But without the mood swings.

And blood.

Wait – did I bleed at all that day?

No.

:(

Originally, I said we didn’t have to get there early because the first band I had my heart set on seeing didn’t even start until 2 or some other late as fuck time of the day. However, we still ended up getting there by 11:30, without even rushing, and there was barely a line by that point so we just strode right on in.

Well, Henry did.

I had to be frisked and have my purse pillaged and I forgot that I had a plastic container of Mentos gum in there and the security broad threw it out, nooooo.

We had some time to check out the vendors, one of which was our favorite–Choonimals! We bought Chooch an obligatory pizza shirt because god forbid we come home empty-handed. I wanted to get him a Trump shirt that said Fuck Boi on it but Henry frowned heavily even though he approved of the shirt in general.

BANDS OF THE DAY

• Brick + Mortar: The first band we saw was Brick + Mortar on the Roots Stage. I didn’t know anything about them other than what I read on the Riot Fest website a few weeks ago. It was just two guys playing honest indie rock, and I’m going to be real here: I’m not sure if I genuinely liked the music, or if I was just captivated by the hilarious guy they had on stage with them, dancing around like an idiot, coming back out dressed like a fairy-thing, and just being overall entertaining. Henry liked them too, so you know that the music wasn’t very offensive. It was a great start to the day though! Especially when the singer thanked everyone for taking a chance on them and that they had recently won a battle against their record label for the rights to their music, and that’s always something to clap about.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BK8LqP_DsFH/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

• Plague Vendor: Right after Brick + Mortar ended, Plague Vendor started their set on the neighboring Riot Stage. I told Henry that I didn’t think he was going to like them, but Henry surprised me by saying, “They’re not bad. He’s like…Mick Jagger and Iggy Pop had a baby.” WHOA. He likes a band, kind of, enough to make comparisons?! This day was really off to a great start. (Plague Vendor is fucking amazing, by the way—frenetic, rowdy California punk rock fronted by a singer with moves slick enough to make MJ grab his crotch in appreciation.

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• Microwave, acoustic set: Thank god for these StubHub acoustic sets, because I was unable to see Microwave perform later that day as a full band, due to scheduling conflicts. (They had the unfortunate scheduling luck of going up against Motion City Soundtrack, who were playing their penultimate show, but now I’m seriously regretting my choice.) I always miss this band when they come to town! Henry immediately peaced out, getting lost in the depths of his phone (what does he actually read on his phone!? I can’t even imagine. He only has like 79 Facebook friends so scrolling through this feed can’t take very much time and what else do old people use Smartphones for?!), and ignored the whole acoustic set, which admittedly wasn’t the best acoustic set I’ve ever seen (Nathan, the singer, seemed kind of nervous) but it was still good to hear some Microwave, even in that soft, scaled back capacity. He even covered that fucking “I’ve got a brand new pair of rollerskates” song which I thought for sure would appeal to Henry, since he’s old and probably danced with some big-haired hussy to that song at a school dance at some point in his life.

Henry ignoring Microwave.

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• Jessica Hernandez: NOPE. She was playing on the main stage and we had time to kill so we were sitting down in the grass and I was just like, “I CAN’T TAKE THIS BROAD’S VOICE, UGH BUT I’M TOO COMFORTABLE TO MOVE.” Also, I tried to snag a sip of Henry’s beer around this point but he yelled at me because there was “SECURITY” right next to us and I wasn’t wearing a 21+ wristband. Oh for fuck’s sake, Henry. Like anyone would ever do a double-take if they saw me drinking alcohol! Unless they thought Henry was my dad and I’m a super-old-looking teenager? A teenager who’s seen some shit? Anyway, this broad considers her band to be “dark soul and goth pop” but I didn’t get that vibe at all. All I got was some Gwen Stefani-mimicking annoying bray backed by trombones. Not a fan.

• HippoCampus: We walked over to the Roots Stage to wait for Hippocampus to start, but Jessica Hernandez said, “We got two more songs for you!” and I was like, “WHAT? HOW?!!?” because it was like one minute away from Hippocampus starting on the neighboring stage. The Riot and Roots staging alternate, so as soon as one band is done, the next band immediately starts on the other stage, and Riot Fest is pretty good about keeping the schedule accurate. However, Jessica wouldn’t shut her trap, and then the powers-that-be did my favorite thing ever: THEY SHUT HER DOWN. She just kept singing, no sound coming out, until she finally realized what was happening and frantically waved her mic around like they were going to turn the sound back on for her, like it was an accident, like she was better than the next band and allowed to abuse her time on stage. Fuck OFF, Jessica Hernandez. Meanwhile, Hippocampus ended up being kind of boring, but I’m still glad they didn’t have their set cut short by that dumb bitch.
• High Waisted: Since Hippocampus wasn’t capturing my heart, I looked at my app to see who else was playing. I quickly skimmed the bio for High Waisted, which mentioned 1960s SURF and DREAM POP, and I was on board. “I thought you don’t like female singers?” Henry asked when we rolled up to the tiny Storyheart Stage. He will never understand my criteria. This band seemed like it was in my wheelhouse and I was willing to give them a chance, and thank god for that because they ended up being a huge highlight of the whole weekend, especially when they had a legit Dick Dale breakdown at the end of the set. Plus, the singer, Jessica Louise, was hot AF! Unlike that other Jessica (Hernandez *hisssss*), this one had an Erin-pleasing voice. They’re on tour right now with Somos and Free Throw and of course it’s not coming to shitty Pittsburgh.

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• Motion City Soundtrack: They were next on the Roots Stage and Henry begrudgingly followed me there. Neither of us are actually fans of this band and in fact, I can’t tell you how many times I walked right past whatever stage they were playing at numerous Warped Tours. I think probably because I associate them with Christina’s crazy sister. But this is the last tour they’re doing, probably for like 5 years at which point they will realize how much money there is to be made on reunion tours, and then they’ll be all, “Wow, we forgot how much we loved making music as this band so now we have a new album coming out! And another tour after that!” I mean, I can’t judge. At least five bands I really fucking love have done this to me over the last 10 years. But still, I wanted to be there and actually watch them for what might be my only chance ever. I only really know two songs and they played both of them so I was content. Henry made his “I don’t get it” face the whole time, and truthfully, we spent most of the set willing someone to “accidentally” step on this bitch who wouldn’t stand up:

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Chooch’s new shirt for picture day.

Admittedly, my favorite part of the set was when some girl pushed her way through us and Henry casually said, “Oh hello, come on in.” I don’t know why it made me crack up as much as it did, other than the fact that I was fucking high on life. And then we saw a guy with flipflops literally tattooed to his feet. OH OK.

• Bob Mould: I hope if you’re reading this that you know who Bob Mould is, but if you don’t: GET YOUR STUDY ON. He’s a living alt-rock legend, and his 80s bands Husker Du and Sugar are both essential for any music fanatic. I have never seen him before so I was pretty giddy about this, especially since he was supposed to be at the first Riot Fest I ever went to but then WASN’T and then when he was in Pittsburgh, I WAS AT RIOT FEST. Guys, these are the big problems in my life, OK? Anyway, a fun fact about Bob Mould is that when Henry and I first started dating, or whatever you want to call, he was way more accepting of my musical tastes and Bob Mould’s “New #1” was like, our song or something. I guess. We haven’t listened to it together in like 10 years because we don’t love each other anymore.

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• Balance & Composure: But, as much as I love me some Bob Mould, I REALLY FUCKING LOVE ME some Balance & Composure, so we split the Riot Stage about 30 minutes into Bob’s set and ran over to the small Rebel Stage, where B&C was setting up and I pulled Henry all the way to the front, which he just LOVES. Right away though, I heard A Voice that immediately made me feel angry and tense and then I realized it was the obnoxious Minnesota know-it-all from the line to get in on Day One! Henry started cracking up and I just slowly turned back around and proceeded to block her out. Luckily, I had SAM and her SNOWCONE to fixate on. She was standing next to me and I know her name is SAM because she saw one of her friends, who came over with another friend, and introductions were made but then they left and SAM continued to stand alone with her BLUE snowcone. She was interesting. And of course we saw her like 87 times the rest of the weekend too. Always alone! I felt so sad for her. But then B&C started playing and everyone around me just melted away. For being up against so many heavy-hitters and being relegated to the smallest stage, they really had a shit ton of people there for them! I don’t know what to say about this band other than they are just excelsior alt-rock, kind of emo-revivalist, really great song-writing, the kind of music you want to listen to in the car while driving around in October wearing your favorite sweater and MAYBE DRINKING A MAPLE LATTE TOO. They are for sure an autumn band for me, like just writing about this right now makes me want to go on a haunted hayride, good thing it’s October 1. (OMG it’s October 1 and I’m not done writing about Riot Fest, whyyyyy.) They have a new album coming out so they started their set off with two songs from that and then Jon (he’s the SINGER, you guys) admitted that they were nervous as fuck to perform those songs for the first time, and it did kind of seem like they were stiff and uncomfortable but once they dove into the old jams, they were shining like diamonds. For the record, I love the new songs they’ve released so far. This is one of them, it’s called POSTCARD and you should listen:

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Go back to Minnesota.

After Balance and Composure, we had some time to wander around and forage for food before Brand New started at 6:15. It was around this time that I thought I saw Justin Bobby and Henry was all WHO and I said “Justin Bobby” and Henry was all “…………….” and then I yelled, “FROM THE HILLS!?!?” Fuck Henry, turn on MTV sometime in 2006, OK?

I ended up getting one of the most texturally interesting veggie burgers ever:

I think it was made with potatoes. I liked it. It could have been warmer but it’s better than the soft pretzel I’d be eating at Warped Tour, so who am I to complain. Those food vendors are amazing every year though I feel like this year wasn’t as on point as the past two years. (I’M STILL NOT OVER THE FACT THAT DARK MATTER WASN’T THERE WITH THEIR HOT, HEAVENLY NECTAR A/K/A COFFEE. I missed those tiny donuts that were there last year too. Come back, tiny donuts.)

We saw, for the second time that day, a girl wearing the same Emarosa “For Fox Sake” shirt that Chooch has. She was sitting down with her friend and I did that thing that Henry loves where I boisterously comment on someone’s attire (I can’t tell you how many times I get all Tourettes-like when we’re in another city and I see someone wearing a Penguins shirt). I ran up to the girl and screamed, “I LOVE EMAROSA!” She was clearly caught off guard. I could tell by the way her hand flew to her chest and she let out a startled, “Oh!” But then she said, “Yeah, they’re fantastic!” and that response satisfied me so I continued on my way.

“Why do you have to do that?” Henry groaned.

Anyway, it was around this point where I started to notice a lot of vendors had put up Morrissey-related signs regarding their food and I didn’t realize until later it was because one of his stipulations for playing Riot Fest was that all food vendors had to stop selling meat after 8pm. Obviously I’m a huge fan of THE CURE but I am just a basic, average fan of the Smiths and not really a fan at all of Morrissey as a solo artist (not for any reason other than I just never really paid attention to it because I’ve been too busy worshiping at the feet of Robert Smith almost my whole life), so I didn’t know that this is something Moz supposedly requires of all venues he’s playing at. I guess it really sent Riot Fest attendees over the edge though because the comments I was reading online were so fucking hostile. Like, if you ever hear me complain about not being able to eat a certain food for a two hour block, please fucking kill me. Personally, as a vegetarian, this really made me respect Morrissey a lot more. How fucking punk rock is that?! Plus it incited so much controversy, which come on, who doesn’t love some fucking music drama!?

No one thought Riot Fest would comply to Moz’s demands, but they did and that made my veggie burger taste even more delicious and satisfying, not gonna lie. It’s not everyday us herbivores get a victory.

Riot Fest really starts to get crowded around 5. That’s around the time my stranger-danger anxiety usually starts to set in, but the way they had the stages set up this year made it feel like less of a cluster.  I mean, I still clung to Henry’s shirt tail like my life depended on it, but it wasn’t as gnarly as past years.

• Brand New: Henry was being so nice to me around this time! So now instead of associating Brand New with terrible Christina things, I think I will associate them with Henry kind of showing me something that resembled affection! It was nice. But then he said he only knew one song that Brand New played that night and I was like, “YOU’RE A FUCKING IDIOT THERE IS NO WAY YOU DIDN’T KNOW AT LEAST 75% OF THAT SET LIST, YOU MOTHERFUCKING MORON” and then the mood was killed. But seriously though it was a delightful set. We stood far back enough that we didn’t have to deal with any of their asshole fans (honestly, Brand New has some of the douchiest fans I’ve ever encountered and I can’t even imagine them in real life scenarios outside of a Brand New show). I feel really lucky to have gotten to see them twice in two months, although I’m kind of annoyed that I didn’t jump at the chance to buy tickets to their upcoming Cleveland show because they just announced that they’re playing The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me in its entirety, fuck my life. I also think it’s kind of interesting that Jesse Lacey basically made a career of trolling his fans yet people still fall over themselves to see his band play. There’s a sick kind of respect there, I guess. (I do think this band deserves every accolade it receives though and anyone who says they’re overrated can go fuck themselves because I’m pretty sure Jesse Lacey is a fucking mad genius and when he sings Degausser I lose it every time.) Here is someone else’s video of it because I only have a few Snaps:

Honestly, what else is there to say about Brand New?

Somewhere around this time, we had our third conversation about rats (????). This time we were talking about how we saw rat traps in the yards of the houses we walked past that morning and Henry was mouthing off about how bad rats are, etc., and I said, “Yeah but, some of the rats of NIMH were good though…”

“Those were cartoons, Erin,” Henry sighed.

JUDGING.

• Death Cab For Cutie: This band needs no introduction. There was a chunk of my early 20s when they were my shit, I loved this band so much, before that TV show The O.C. made them a household band (I mean, good for them! But I’m just saying…) However, I stopped listening to them almost entirely after Transatlanticism. Not because I thought they got sucky or anything like that, but because I associated them with this. Basically, I was listening to DCFC when I found out that someone I had a very dysfunctional relationship with had been killed in a car accident/alleged suicide. Pretty hard not to think about that anytime I hear Death Cab nowadays. I actually saw them a week after that happened too, at Coachella in 2004. The first and last time I’d ever see them live, until now at Riot Fest. And I have to say, it felt like beautiful torture. It felt like having my heart ripped out of my chest, only to have it pumped full of life and love and reinserted. It felt healing and necessary. But…if they had played anything from Something About Airplanes, I probably would have had to leave. No lie.

(OH GOD why did I just let myself listen to this?!)

Riot Fest, you are a fucking violent stumble, heart-in-throat, down memory lane, Jesus Christ. I wasn’t ready.

• Morrissey: I had a chance to begin processing the past that had been dredged up slammed into my face after Death Cab’s set since Morrissey kept us waiting for like 30 minutes. I get it, you’re a big star, but FYI: The Cure has never left me standing out in the dark, looking at my imaginary watch. SORRY TO KEEP MAKING COMPARISONS. There was some 30 minute long video montage that we had to suffer through and I guess he does this at all of his shows? OK that’s fine, but maybe don’t do that when you’re playing a festival and people have been there since noon and just want to see you play now so that we can all leave and pass out in our shitty Motel 6 hopefully-clean beds. People were leaving left and right, and Henry really wanted to leave too, but I got all white knight-y and said reasoned, “Come on, it’s Morrissey. We have to see him at least once.” Because unless someone gives me a free ticket, I can’t imagine that I would ever go to a show specifically to see him (unless the Smiths suddenly reunite, then it’s game on). There was a moment where we actually thought that maybe he seriously wasn’t going to be there after all, because when the Riot Fest lineup was announced last spring, he was like, “I never agreed to perform at Riot Fest so this is news to me” in typical Moz-fashion. I mean, you have to admire his consistency with being notoriously difficult and coy, I guess. He did, obviously, come out and immediately began singing “Suedehead” in his typical bombastic fashion and I found myself saying, “IT’S OK MORRISSEY, WE’RE NOT MAD!” because that damn voice. And: “By the way, thanks for opening with a song I know!”

When he sang “Ganglord,” there were images of police violence splayed out on the screen behind him and while it was difficult to watch, it felt so fucking important and I had to give him credit because that was a message that needed to be forced on everyone watching. Like, “Hey guys, you’re here right now enjoying your life at Riot Fest when this is the shit that’s happening in your idiotic country right now. Don’t forget that.” Henry hates it when musicians use the stage as a soapbox but I’m all for it. I feel like more people are going to listen to what their music idols have to say than what a politician is jawing off about, so go for it, Morrissey. Tell us to Dump Trump! WE’RE TRYING!

We stayed for five songs then made our way back down the streets lined with rat traps and rejoiced when we saw our car was still in one piece in the shady parking lot where we left it that morning.

This was by far the best and most emotionally satisfying day of Riot Fest and I wish I could hold it in my hand and squeeze it lovingly like a dove BUT NOT TOO HARD SO I DON’T KILL IT.

Guys hay guys I conned Henry into seeing Thrice with me because I dislike Stage AE and didn’t want to go there alone, cry me a river. So my Airforce Hero came downtown and met me after work, where we split pizza at some place I can never remember the name but I go there sometimes with Wendy (twice, I went there with Wendy twice).

Now it’s 6:21pm and we’re standing in line waiting for doors to open which is exactly what Henry didn’t want to do, wooooo. We’re definitely at the right place because flannels. So many flannels. Much cozy!

6:27 and one of the guys in front of us just yelled, “Tix out for Harambe!” Dead.

6:56: BLUE MOON HORCHATA. Henry said he forgot his ear plugs for La Dispute. :( Henry is so mean to La Dispute.

7:15: still waiting for the show to start. When security was going thru my purse, one of those plastic prize bubbles fell out and rolled across the floor. “sorry for being a giant kid,” I laughed, stuffing it back into my purse full of ticket stubs, show flyers, Num Noms, and gumball machine prizes.

7:58: Nothing, Nowhere just ended and took my heart with them. From the moment the drums kicked in on the first song, tears started streaming down my face and I just let it happen because Therapy. OH FOR GOD’S SAKE. After the first song ended I yelled “Obsessed” into Henry’s ear and he rolled his eyes. Just now he said “ow my heart” which hello that’s MY LINE.

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805: Uneventful bathroom trip. La Dispute next! I have chills! Stage AE keeps playing some kind of Charlie Brown bullshit in between bands and that’s fine usually but it’s making me feel tired and Henry forced a large cup of beer on me and now I’m drunk.

AFTER ONE BAND!!

OMG HENRY?!

Nah he’s behind me, son.

8:58: this just in – Henry still hates La Dispute. I love them even more!!

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9:13 was just in the bathroom which sounded like a windtunnel of ennui-laden, nasal LA DI DAs and LEE LEE LOOs. Neo-Valley Girl.

Girls are so annoying. I WAS NOT THAT ANNOYING WHEN I WAS IN MY EARLY 20s RIGHT HENRY.

11:10 Guys, we’re on the trolley now and I am so jittery and all a’twit with joy and exuberance and some real life Sound of Music bullshit. (Or bullsjug as AutoCorrect suggested.) THRICE WHY U SO GUD?!

Henry just said “I only know like one of their songs so I dong know why you drag me along to these” and I’m heartbroken, all love-crushed, because I THOUGHT THAT WAS OUR BAND?! Like it has been there throughout the whole course of our relationship?! Like, pre-Chooch random drives in our old Nissan Sentra, playing Stare at the Sun on repeat?! FUCK OFF HENRY.

Anyway, they opened with Hurricane and My heart got all clogged in my throat, you know how that happens when something really emotionally sucker punches you or you’ve just watched some seriously depraved porn. Yeah, that feeling.

And then proceeded to murder our feelings with a 90 minute set worth emotionally dying for.

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Thrice, welcome back!! When they did their farewell tour, we were poor(er) and Papa H wouldn’t open the pocketbook for me (I know, how 1950s of us but to be fair I was working part time and having my wages garnished lol student loans). We did get to see them last year at Riot Fest after they made their big comeback but a 45 minute set outside just doesn’t compare to what we got last night, a show full of the old standbys and also so many gems from their new album. I was in heaven.

The Pirates game let out at the same time as the show so we’re on the trolley with all those ppl and that is MUCH BETTER THAN STEELERS FANS.

A bunch of us got a beer bath from some asshole on the balcony, by the way. I got it all down my neck and when I turned around to whine to Henry he was like “k cool” but the girl next to me must have been in the early stages of her relationship, the pupa stage maybe, because her boyfriend kept looking up at the balcony like he was gonna FIND THAT MOTHERFUCKER & MAKE HIM PAY. RIP OUT HIS ESOPHAGUS SO HE CAN ENJOY BEER NO MORE!

I want to believe it was some sweet, demure young lady who became so enrapt and overcome with The Passion of the Thrice that she spilled it by accident.

BUT IT WAS PROBABLY SOME DUMB YINZER-BRO.

Speaking of the people next to us, everyone at the show was super chill & regular and no one got on my nerves. Whaaaat. I’m not even kidding. It was much better than when I saw them at Diesel in 2009 and got in a mild physics altercation with some douchebag (no, not Henry this time).

LOL’ING ALL THE WAY TO THE MARKET.

1146: OH SHIT Tourette’s was on the trolley with us that whole time!

Wow Out walk home is like a bad comedy. Dormont you LIT for a Tuesday night.

Just walked past the gas station down the street from our house and Henry opened up and told me and intimate story.

“See that guy working in there? I used to come here sometimes to, you know, buy a bottle or whatever—”

THIS ALREADY SOUNDS FISHY. DEFINE “WHATEVER” HENRY.

“—but he’d always be in there, like rooting around through the garbage and then he would stop and handle products without washing his hands! Sorry but don’t touch my water after your hands have been in the garbage. One time, the garbage can was on the counter!”

Wow, cool story. That’ll really help lull me to sleep.

Goodnight!

(I fell asleep before posting this, so now I can say GOOD MORNING!)

ETA:

Henry, in his head: “First she makes me come to this fucking show and now I have to have my picture taken too? UGH.”

Since the shitty “hotel” we’ve stayed at for all three Riot Fests switched brands, they no longer offered breakfast. Not like we were missing much because it was below basic breakfast fare, we were still disappointed because it was convenient and free. Going to Riot Fest is not cheap, you guys, and I’d rather spend my money on merch than food, ugh. All of this is to say we went down the street to some joint called Victoria’s, where I had crepes that were OK and Henry had meats.

Then Meghan Trainor came on (the worst M.T. song of all time, All About That Bass) and I believe this was the first time where I had found myself in a position where there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t change the station! I couldn’t leave because I was still eating. I HAD TO SIT THERE AND ENDURE IT.

Oh, the horror! The pain! But I reminded my ears that soon they would be in Douglas Park, surrounded on all sides by the most beautiful blend of pop punk, punk rock, emo revival, hip hop — it was all going to be there. Some of my most favorite genres, and most favorite bands.

It was going to be OK, ears. It was going to be OK.

After breakfast, we went back to the “hotel” and ordered the first Uber of the weekend, an older man named Woody, who, in spite of having his GPS up on his dash, asked Henry unlimited questions regarding the route. Henry was happy to answer because he is a PROFESSIONAL DRIVER and I can guarantee that Woody’s lack of directional savvy gave Henry his own woody.

Luckily, through numerous detours and train crossings, we made it to Douglas Park with a good 45 minutes to spare before the gates opened. This year, it was set up a bit differently with only one entrance, but I was happy to see that it wasn’t yet a cluster fuck.

Only bad part about standing in line was this uber-annoying Minnesota broad who talked extra-loudly to her friend about how EVERYONE KNOWS HER and HOW MANY TATTOOS SHE HAS and HOW SHE IS SO FUCKING COOL HOW ARE WE NOT MELTING BENEATH HER RADIATING BRILLIANCE. Henry knew right away that she was annoying me so we communicated through eye-expressions alone, and then when she mentioned in her grating Midwest lilt that she COULDN’T WAIT TO SEE BALANCE AND COMPOSURE the next day, Henry started to crack up because I had literally said that same thing about 37403720580 times that morning.

Ughhhhhhh.

Gates opened late as usual and we ran, I mean I ran and Henry slowly lumbered behind me, to the Riot Fest merch tent to snag a set of the limited edition Riot Fest Garbage Pail Kids and then Papa Drunk skipped off to get his 21+ wristband and guess who couldn’t get her own because she left her whole entire wallet in Pittsburgh? My preparedness is a non-factor in my game of life. Do not ever choose me for your zombie apocalypse team.

Ugh. First beer at like 11:30. Get it, Hank.

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We had some time to kill before noon so we stomped around the food vendors looking for Dark Matter because I desperately needed coffee. Couldn’t find it right away, so I settled for a water and while Henry was paying for it, some guy at the next food booth asked, “Hey! Why’s my name on your shirt?” I looked around and when I realized he was talking to me, I had to glance down to refresh my memory with what shirt I was even wearing that day, and it was my beautiful Howard Jones shirt!

So I walked closer and engaged in a rare conversation, because I hate talking to people but Riot Fest is an exception because it makes me remember who I used to be, how alive I once was, and it reminds me that hey, I’m surrounded by a ton of my people right now, so it’s not really stranger danger, right? Anyway, the guy’s name ended up being Howard Johnson (like the hotel, I guess), not Jones, but he had never heard of Howard Jones before so I encourage him to check that shit out.

Henry was like, “OK REMEMBER WHOSE PROPERTY YOU ARE LET’S GO.” He is like, so possessive of me. It’s almost sickening.

(Lol, sike. He was like TAKE HER, SHE’S YOURS.)

(This just brought up a horrible memory of when I was briefly dating this guy Erik in 1998 and we were hanging out at my apartment with some guy named Kevin who I recently met at a Sunoco — hey, I made friends everywhere I went back then when I still had self-esteem — and Kevin, who was totally blitzed off a 40 of Miller’s High Life, asked Erik if he could steal me and Erik said, ugh do you know what he said? He said BE MY GUEST. I have that heart-breaking moment on 8mm, even.)

(Well, fuck you Erik Grove, because now I’m with Henry and here we are at Riot Fest and some cute guy name Howard is talking to me so suck it.)

First band up was Tigers Jaw at noon on the Riot Fest (main) stage.

These guys are on Run For Cover Records, one of my fave labels, but this was the first time I ever saw them live. If you know me, you know that I’m horribly fickle with female singers, but I love the boy-girl sharing of vocal duties going on in this band. It’s fun, feel-good indie rock, you guys and there is no reason why Henry should have said, “Nope, they did nothing for me” other than the fact that he wasn’t paying attention because OMG WHAT ARE HIS 57 FACEBOOK FRIENDS DOING, GOTTA CHECK!

During their set, an older gentleman strolled by and said, “GREAT ALBUM!” while pointing to my Howard Jones “Human Lib” shirt. I agree, guy!

Ahhh, Citizen was next on the Rise stage. I can’t say enough wonderful superlatives about this band. They get me right in the feels, as all the kids and ironic bloggers say these days.

It started to rain during their set and I hated almost everyone around me, but I didn’t let that sully my third live dose of Citizen for 2016. Also, Mat basically dresses like Henry, proving he just doesn’t give a fuck.

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Here’s Henry, secretly enjoying Citizen and his style-twin, Mat.

Right after this was Touche Amore on the Rock Stage and I was ready to burst — they’re part of this trifecta for me which also includes La Dispute and The Saddest Landscape, but I’ve never seen Touche Amore before; it was a long time coming.

Some of the finest post-hardcore I’ve ever heard comes courtesy of this beautiful man. I play their records so loud in the house and Henry and Chooch are always like, full-body eye rolls and grimaces, but GUESS WHAT? Guess who finally jumped aboard the Touche Amore-wagon? Mr. Henry J. Robbins.

“They weren’t that bad,” he mumbled, and then, “I didn’t hate it,” which in regular people’s terms translates to, “Say, I think I actually enjoyed that.”

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After Touche Amore, I had penciled in a small window for getting food. I can’t remember what Henry got, but I enjoyed a wonderful BBQ jackfruit with slaw on top of a slice of Texas toast. It was delicious, except that the slaw was more just a wad of pickled vegetables, which found me for the second time in less than a week explaining to no one in particular that the only pickled things I like are pickles.

Oh, I think Henry had vegetable paella and I accused him of being a vegetarian but he defensively said he wasn’t turning his back on meat, he just simply “didn’t feel like eating meat right then.”

HMM THAT SEEMS WEIRD.

Anyway, thanks to Henry having to also get food, I missed Dillinger Escape Plan so thanks Henry, like you couldn’t have waited until later to eat.

After missing DEP, we wandered over to the outskirts of Douglas Park, where the two smallest stages live. Jule Vera was going to be playing soon on the Storyheart Stage, so we figured we’d just hang out in the grass and take selfies, right Henry? Because that’s totally a thing that Henry does. My hair looked shittier than usual that weekend because remember our shitty “hotel”? Well, they don’t supply their rooms with hair dryers and Henry even tried for a hail mary by inquiring at the front desk if they had any available and the answer was NO THEY DID NOT, YOUR RATTY-HAIRED GIRLFRIEND IS FUCKED, BOIIIII.

So frizzy, air-dried hair it is, then!

We had to suffer through the tail-end of the Far East’s set and I absolutely hated them, like if a person could vomit out of their ears, this would have triggered my aural gag reflex, for sure. Let me just describe it as Reggae No Doubt. I was like GOOD RIDDANCE when they finally ended.

Then it was Tancred, which I kept confusing for Tantric — like, totalllly different band. Fun Fact for anyone who cares: the singer is also the guitarist from Now, Now and the singer from Now, Now is dating Lynn Gunn’s (PVRIS) ex-girlfriend Alexa San Roman, OMG there more you know. Anyway, Tancred is a good example of why I’m picky with girl-fronted bands — they usually tend to have that 90s sound to them and I know this is putting my head on the chopping block, but I really didn’t like a lot of rock or alternative from the 90s, until later on in the decade. SORRY BUT I’M JUST BEING HONEST. In my defense, I was heavily into hiphop, gangsta rap, and R&B back then though.

Also, around this time, Henry started complaining about a “foot cramp” but I was like, “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like the name of any band that I like so I’m officially exiting this conversation, bye now.”

OK, then it was finally time for Jule Vera and I missed Chooch so desperately. (He’s annoying me so much today though, a week later, so I already forget what that felt like.) Chooch has loved Jule Vera since we saw them last winter at the Never Shout Never and blushed the whole time he was posing for a picture with Ansley, their singer:

Not even gonna front here, I got totally misty-eyed during their set because it made me miss Chooch so much. We were sending him pictures of Ansley on Facebook during soundtrack and he was getting so mad at us but then he said “SEND ME VIDEOS.” Originally he wanted us to record their whole set, but contrary to popular belief, I actually don’t like being That Person holding their phone up at concerts. I tend to grab a few Instavids (like 30 seconds in length at a time) just for my own posterity and to have something to post on the blog as a memory of the night.

SO FUCKING SUE ME.

But for Chooch, I broke that rule and recorded 30-60 seconds of every song the performed, but I didn’t feel too asshole-y doing so because I was right against the barrier so I didn’t have to hold my phone up high, which means no one behind me was bothered, and if they were, it was probably because of Henry.

Henry’s mere existence is very bothersome to some.

Is it wrong to say that I think a band is adorable? I also think they’re really talented, but there is something really charming about watching such a young band play their hearts out on stage. I didn’t think I was going to care much for them when I saw them last winter, but I fell for them alongside Chooch. He’s got good taste.

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Some old dude, like even older than Henry, yelled, “Hey what high school do you go to?!?” to Ansley and OK, I get where he’s coming from, but damn dude, that sounded totally creepy, go away. Save that for when you’re role-playing with your old ass wife.

Their finale had to have made new fans out of the unbiased people lounging under nearby trees. Even one of the security guys came over to get a better look and then to me and Henry said, “This shit is crazy!”

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Set Your Goals was up next on the Rise Stage and I was so excited to see them again! They recently reunited and I didn’t even realize how much I missed them. This is the band that Henry always pauses and then asks, “Is this the big guy and little guy?” Ugh, yes Henry. Sure. SYG has the dual-vocals thing going on, and I credit them into getting me into pop-punk, after swearing it off for years. They were my gateway, if you will. I always liked emo and post-hardcore but really never cared much for pop-punk, until I heard one of their songs that Vinnie Cuarana was on, and then Hayley Williams rapping (literally!!) on one of their songs in 2009 really helped the medicine go down.

I made Alisha go see them with me that summer at Mr. Small’s and it was just such an awesome show and I kind of wanted to get punched in the face but it didn’t happen.

Henry was not into it.

This guy stood right by us while sucking on his CHRONIC CANDY lollipop and I wanted him so badly to turn to Henry and offer him a lick, which prompted Henry to later go on a tangent about how Chronic Candy “isn’t actually a drug, Erin!” and like yeah OK but it’s still part of DRUG CULTURE and we all know Henry has the D.A.R.E. insignia tattooed on his left ass cheek.

Oh you didn’t know? WELL NOW YOU DO.

He also has “just say no” on his inner lip.

Anyway, go listen to Set Your Goals.

We tried to catch some of the Citizen acoustic set in the StubHub Tent, which was packed, so we were standing near the entrance when some dumbass rolled up with her friends and proceeded to shriek, totally unrelated to the music, like she had been proposed to and this really set me off so I flipped out and stormed away (I was also suffering through some major coffee-withdrawals, thanks for not having my back this year, Dark Matter!), and had a mini-meltdown, but then Henry calmed me down after some guy stared at me with a scared smile because I think he thought I was yelling at him. Not you, bro. Not you.

Once Henry verbally massaged my frontal lobe, we were able to catch a little bit of Somos on the Storyheart stage. The best way I can explain this band is that they would be perfectly at home on a soundtrack for any 1980s John Hughes movie. This is a good thing! But Henry doesn’t get it, which is why I had to see them alone at Bled Fest last May.

This was the harried, frenzied block of time on Friday where there were three bands playing all around the same time and I wanted to see them all, so after two Somos songs, we had to do a brisk walk to the Rise stage where Glassjaw was playing and can you believe I have never seen Glassjaw in my whole entire life?? Henry thinks this is incorrect, but that’s because we saw Daryl Palumbo’s other band, Head Automatica at the Cure’s Curiosa festival in 2004. So I got to have major chills hearing Daryl’s screams cutting through the early evening Chicago air. No one sounds quite like Daryl Palumbo!

(LOL, a commercial for Motel 6 just played while I’m writing this and our Motel 6 did NOT look like the one on TV at all. Nice try, Tom Bodett.)

FUN FACT: I sold a custom serial killer card to G.G. Allin’s brother last year and it was pretty much the highlight of my card-making career thus far.

Oh man, young emo Erin was READY to see Jimmy Eat World again. I kept trying to remember when the last time was that I saw them, and Henry swore that it wasn’t him because Jimmy Eat World is evidently a band that he would remember seeing. I stressed about this for the whole weekend because I was sure that I saw them at one of the Edgefests in Buffalo but I couldn’t find them listed on any lineups, so then I searched for their all their 2001 tour dates and said, “Well, I just don’t know then because this says they only did Warped Tour in 2001….oh wait I was at that Warped Tour, never mind LOL forever.”

Mystery solved! I saw them at Warped Tour with my pal Wonka.

When I first got into emo, it was through Instant Messenger (good ol’ AIM) and I was chatting with some random, and I remember asking him what his screen name meant. I don’t remember the name anymore, but it had something to do with the band Christie Front Drive, and that’s how I fell down the emo rabbit hole and, 20 years later, still haven’t clawed my way back out. Once he suggested that I listen to the Emo Diaries compilations, I knew it was for me.

(Full disclosure, I was still heavy into nu-metal back then too, hahahah, but emo clearly won the war over my heart.)

The crowd wasn’t too bad. My strategy was to stand behind a lady in a wheelchair because no one wanted to stand right in front of her, which meant the view was pretty clear for me. I’m really picky about how far up I’ll travel into the crowds — I base it on how much I love the band and how big/small the stage is. I do not like being close to the main stage because people scare me and I hate feeling trapped.

Anyway, they played my favorite song, Lucky Denver Mint (mixtape staple!)  Enjoy my finger cameo! I’m good at this!

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It was time for Second Riot Fest Feeding after Jimmy Eat World and I went with a vegan sloppy joe. I think Henry got salt and vinegar fries. Who cares. I kept stealing swigs of his beer and he was getting so angry because “if you had really wanted to drink, you wouldn’t have your left your fucking license at home!!” He kept saying, “I hope you get busted!” because I didn’t have a wristband on, but come on, I think it’s pretty clear that I’m over 21. Maybe it’s debatable in a dark club, but when the sun is shining down on me, the grays are all a’shimmer and the bags under my eyes are looking ready and willing to hold your car keys and Altoids.

So gimme your fucking beer, Henry.

That sloppy joe was wonderful. Riot Fest has the best food! This is what I wish Warped Tour would do — but I guess because it’s at an actual venue and not a park, outside food vendors aren’t allowed in so we have to stick with the standard $10 soft pretzels and nachos or whatever that First Niagara whips up. This is why I just stuff my bag with granola bars!

On the way back to the Storyheart Stage in preparation for BASEMENT!!!, we watched a few minutes of All Time Low at the Rise Stage. I never really got into them that much, so after a song or two, we began to walk away, but then they started the next song and I screamed, “I KNEW IT!!” and ran back to the stage because Vic from Pierce the Veil came out to sing “A Love Like War” with them. Henry was like, “Wha—-what’s happening!?” and had to follow me back. He’s so dumb sometimes. But then he saw Vic and understood.

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For real though, after that song ended, we had to run to the Storyheart Stage because I wanted to be up front for Basement and now, as I type this, I feel like I’m going to start crying because this was the first time that weekend, other than crying about missing Chooch or just being my typical whiny self, that I dropped real tears.

This is the same band that threw a wrench in Henry’s “driving to Disneyworld” plans last April — he wanted to leave on a Saturday morning but then I quietly, while slowly back away, reminded him that I had a ticket to see Basement that night, so we had to wait until 11:30pm that night to embark on our Orlando road trip, lolololololol all the way to the market.

I am obsessed with Al specifically, the guitarist, because he was the man behind the camera in all of the Tuesdays with Tay videos that Henry and I love (well, that I love), and I’m just a huge groupie for Run For Cover Records. Huge. I make Chooch wear their shirt to school in an effort to get those basic Brookline brats interested in good music.

(Hasn’t happened yet, although Chooch played some Emarosa for his friend Dimajio and said that he liked it, so fingers crossed. Chooch is a lot like me in many ways but he hasn’t yet honed the SHOVE YOUR INTERESTS DOWN YOUR FRIENDS’ THROATS skill yet I guess. I’ll work on that with him some more, don’t worry.)

When we were waiting for Jule Vera to play earlier, Henry elbowed me and pointed to the fenced-off area behind the stage, at a white van that had just rolled up. “Isn’t that Basement?” he asked casually. AND IT WAS. Henry is so great at recognizing bands that he hates!

Some of my friends were disappointed in me because I chose Basement over some other band, but bitch please, I’m not going to skip a band that I genuinely love in favor of a band that I don’t like but feel like I’m supposed to watch just to say that I saw them. That’s not me! I like what I like. And Basement pumped me full of life. I love how James has Robert Smith-esque dance moves and I love their energy and their fans aren’t assholes and they’re just adorable Brits who make emotional, heart-felt, energetic rock.

I’m used to disappointing people with my music preferences though. It’s my thang. Bang bang.

Plus, they have a song called Bad Apple and I have a rotten apple tattoo, so I’m kind of obligated to be a fan. <3

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I’m going to listen to them all weekend now because they’re such an autumn band for me. And I finally got Henry to admit that he likes them so it was a big moment in our relationship. This band is just so good, and they are HILARIOUS on social media (their Snapchat stories are entertaining) and I have to say, when a band plays super emotional music but then act like complete clowns on the Internet, I love them even more.

Just do yourself a favor and listen to their latest album. It’s the first release since they came out of hiatus. I mean, I’m no Lou Pappan, but I think “you gonna like it.” (SHOUT OUT TO MY PITTSBURGH READERS LOL.)

Much to Henry’s  inner joy and invisible mirth, yesterday was the third and last day of Riot Fest. It’s also the first day Henry and I fought– we made it so far! Specifically all the way to Rob Zombie’s set where I tried to lose Henry in the crowd like lol ok what is that going to prove. 

Anyway, we saw lots of bands so let’s see what Henry hated, didn’t like, and thought was “not too bad.” (Heads up, he was not impressed by anything on Sunday.)

• The Bronx: They were good…? What?
• Frankiero andthe Patience: I liked that too. (He sounded unsure. I don’t think he knows who this is.)
• All Dogs: I don’t remember if I liked them. Apparently not. 
• Dee Snider: Eh. Novelty. 
• Juliette Lewis & the Licks: Interesting. Not too bad for what we saw before you got hangry. 
• A Will Away: I only saw five minutes of them so I can’t make an informative opinion. (He was sitting alone by a fence for their first few songs, looking like an undercover cop.)
• Thursday: I was never a big fan anyway so that didn’t change. (He breaks my heart.)
• Bad Religion: Pretty much the same. Not a big fan anyway. 
• Underoath: I don’t know. (He scrunched up his face and made a so-so motion with his hand.)
• Deftones: I only knew their older stuff, so. Not bad. Can’t say I’m the biggest fan. (Well they played mostly old stuff, so…)
• Rob Zombie: From what I heard I liked. (When I left him during Rob Zombie, he was standing by himself– obvi–and said that a younger guy was doing DRUGS next to him, but when he saw Henry, he got nervous and put it away. Like no duh, Henry—it’s because you look like a NARC.)
• Sleater-Kinney: We walked through them? That was it. (Yeah right when they were commending Riot Fest for writing a No Harrassment policy – Henry hates when girls stand up for themselves and get all “lippy about their safety” don’t you Henry the Oppressor?)
• Misfits: I don’t get it. 

And now is the time where we ask Henry what his dream Riot Fest lineup would be.  Lol, nevermind. Just Ted Nugent. 

Out of every band there this weekend, Henry’s favorite was “I don’t know.”

Henry got lemonade because “everyone else seems to be getting lemonade.” What a fucking conformist. 

Overall, Henry thinks that Riot Fest “wasn’t a bad weekend. At least it didn’t rain.”

Wow. I feel like a need a fucking butterfly net to catch all those words. 

The entire purpose of our trip to Louisville last weekend was to see Artifex Pereo at their hometown CD release show. I know, seems like a long way to go to see one band, but Pittsburgh was once again not on their tour route, and they’re on the short list of bands I adore enough travel for.  This is one of the few bands I like that Henry also likes, so I only had to beg him a little bit to take me.

And also Chooch, because he pretty much just goes to all the shows now.

The doors weren’t open yet when our boring Lyft driver deposited us along the curb, so we had to wait a bit outside. This is usually the time I start to feel like a bad parent for bringing a 10-year-old to a bar/club. People kept looking at him and I was like DON’T JUDGE US but then some of the guys from Artifex walked past and high-fived Chooch, so everyone in line was like, “Aw.” And then we suddenly became cool.

(Chooch got to meet Artifex when we went to Bled Fest last May and I still have The Resentment over it!)

There were no advanced tickets, so I panicked about this and posted on the Facebook event page, asking if they anticipated it to sell out, because if we were driving all that way from Pittsburgh, I wanted to make sure we were getting in! Cory, the drummer, messaged me his phone number and told me that if we had any problems, to give him a call and he’d make sure we got in. As if I didn’t already love them enough!

Luckily, we got there early enough that we didn’t have any problems, but that place filled up FAST so who knows if we would have been turned away had we arrived late. People came out in droves to support their friends in all the bands playing that night (3 out of 4 were from Louisville) and it was really beautiful to see! This was one of the main reasons I wanted to be there that night – hometown shows are just so exciting, intimate, and full of energy. I wanted in on that.

It was $5 to get in, but Highroller Henry only had a hundred dollar bill on him (“I would have had the exact amount if some asshole hadn’t made me tour a castle today,” he mumbled) and I was so embarrassed/annoyed that now he was going to hold up the line while the doorman checked to make sure that the bill was legit and then slowly counted Henry’s change. But what took even longer was the doorman’s suspended disbelief that I was over 21. BLESS YOU, SIR. (To be fair, it was dark in there so the circles under my eyes were camouflaged and my gray hairs blended into the shadows; also I always look much younger when Henry’s at my side, lol-forever).

We found a bar table in a corner, perfect for Chooch, whose weary bones can’t handle long periods of standing. It’s tough being 10 years old in the year 2016. And since we took a Lyft there, Henry was giddy that he could drink beer. Which is exactly what he did and he was in the greatest mood ever, it was amazing. Let’s feed Henry beer more often.

Chooch was happy with his plastic cup of OJ.

Cory was over at the merch table, so Henry went over to say hello. I guess they’re like bros now since they talked at Bled Fest, so many ughs. Ughs for days. Ughs coming out the ass. When Henry came back, he was like, “You should go say hello to him. He’s so nice! He knows who you are, just do it.” And then he had to give me a literal push because I am SO WEIRD about talking to people in bands. I made Chooch go with me and of course it was all, “Riley is here! Good to see you!” LIVE IT UP NOW WHILE YOU CAN, CHOOCH. Pretty soon you will be old and average like the rest of us. Play that cute kid card as much as possible because time is waning!

(Whatever. Chooch will never be old and average.)

Anyway, Cory was super nice and I gladly gave him Henry’s money for merch. Holding their new CD in my hands a week before it was officially released was such a goddamn gift!

The room was really starting to fill up by the first band, Concealer, started to play. They’re also from Louisville so the crowd was super stoked on them and I liked them a lot too—the perfect Slushee of rock and emo. These guys were definitely in my wheelhouse.

It was really getting extremely hot in there. Henry and Chooch kept going outside, but I had to stay there and protect Chooch’s stupid seat because god forbid he might have to stand on those weak little legs of his.  I could honestly feel layers of my face sluicing off. I started to crave a razor so I could shear my hair. Get it off of me! IT WAS THAT HOT.

The next band was also local to Louisville, Ol’ Girl. “Is this like, the new thing now or something?” Henry yelled in my ear, because they’re an instrumental/prog rock-type band and he just doesn’t understand this genre.

(I just learned today that Wendy hates the word “genre” so now I’m going to use it as much as possible around her. Like next time I’m working on something here at the Law Firm, maybe I’ll ask her, “Hey Wendy, what GENRE OF LAW is this?”)

It’s not a “new thing” at all, but I think that there are just some really incredible up-and-coming ambassadors for this movement, which is why this type of music is getting more exposure lately, from Chon to Polyphia, Strawberry Girls, and even our local Pittsburghers in Save Us From the Archon. If your music is good, it’s good, you know? You don’t always need a vocalist to entertain a crowd.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BKE1Vvbg08o/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

Anyway, I really liked these guys, even though I couldn’t figure out their name was until much later when Lucas from Artifex Pereo said it on stage.

The third band was the Funeral Portrait. There wasn’t much of a crowd for them, I guess because they’re from Atlanta and most of the people there that night were out in support of Louisville’s best, so I was able to stand near the stage without the risk of passing out. Seriously, it was SO HOT up in that piece! I wasn’t even about to try to elbow my way closer to the stage during the first two bands. It was a solid wall of steaming hot humans in that room.

The Funeral Portrait was a bit heavier than the other bands, more screamier, and if you’re someone who abides by Alternative Press’s classifications of bands, then you can call them Theatricore I guess. They reminded me a bit of old My Chemical Romance. OLD My Chemical Romance, like pre-MTV Darlings MCR. Specifically the MCR song “Vampires Will Never Hurt You.” I remember hearing that song, and then seeing the video, for the first time somewhere around 2003 and being smitten.

So maybe the Funeral Portrait didn’t have quite that same effect on me, but they at least got my attention and made me want to buy a shirt (they have some really great designs and all about that funeral life).

He’s wearing the shirt of my people!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BKE08CEgVRq/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

Meanwhile, Chooch was falling asleep in his chair. It was a pretty late show, and I’m sure the mugginess in that room didn’t help keep his eyelids from crashing down.

“Some of the guys came over and asked him if he was going to make it,” Henry laughed, like he knows them so well now. Shut up, Henry.

We let him doze for a while and then Henry took him outside for a few minutes after Artifex started playing. I couldn’t stand there in the back any longer though, so I gathered up my purse and moved closer to the stage because I wanted to be all up in it, you know? I didn’t drive (Henry crazy in the car) for six hours just to stand in the back.

By this time though, every single person was pretty much in that room and I swear the air felt like it could be sliced and served on a plate. So thick, so m o i s t. My eyes were starting to sting from the sweat dripping off my forehead, but man — who cares. Even the lens on my phone was fogging up.

I need to just make up my own non-English words to explain the genuine feels that this band gives me when I see them live, because ye ol’ Webster’s is failing me here. Nothing is good enough! They make me feel like cotton candy is being churned inside my heart. Like tiny Andy Gibbs are stroking my ear drums with tiny velvet gloves. (Purple velvet, obviously.)

All three times I’ve seen them, the first thing I’ve said to Henry is, “I just can’t believe how GOOD they sound live!” Not that I go in expecting any band to sound terrible, or way off from the sound of their albums, but man — these guys are just masters at their craft. Their music is pure art. The first song of theirs I ever heard was “Hands of Penance” after their producer Kris Crummet posted a clip of it on Instagram — my kneejerk reaction was, “Who the hell is this band and when are they going on tour?!”

Making that drive was such a great decision because this show was was just brimming with good vibes and high energy—just the kind of environment I needed to be in. And Henry was in such a great mood, and Chooch was content, and it was just a really great night all around. No fighting!

The last song they played was Tied to the Sunset and the room just went apeshit:

View this post on Instagram

As soon as the show ended, I was dying to get outside into the cool evening air. My hair was drenched, all stuck to my neck and disgusting, but I had to go back to the merch area to get the screenprint that I bought before the show started; Cory said we could keep it there so it wouldn’t get destroyed during the show. I was excited because I got to meet Lucas finally but could barely muster anything greater than “I love you guys.” He thanked us for driving all that way and then we turned to leave. Right before we got to the door, Henry asked, “Why didn’t you ask him to sign this?” and I was like BECAUSE MY BRAIN IS MELTING IN THIS SAUNA, SORRY I DIDN’T THINK TO ASK.

Ugh!

So he and Chooch went back in to get it signed while I stumbled outside to the sidewalk, where it practically felt like December out there, that’s how shocking the temperature difference was from inside New Vintage. I stood out there by myself for what seemed like 30 minutes until the finally came back out, screenprint successfully full of Artifex Pereo signatures. Oh, Henry couldn’t wait to tell me about all the encounters Chooch had, how one of their girlfriends came up to him and asked, “Are you Riley? I’ve heard about you!”

ENJOY THESE MOMENTS, OH SON OF MINE.

Then some girl walked by, smiled at Henry and said, “Pretty cool dad!”

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

^(^(%&$####@$%$#!!@#$^

The worst!!!

Ugh, whatever. I guess he is a pretty cool dad for driving us there. But I’m the one who likes the band more, lest anyone forget it!

Real talk, though: Henry is kind of the best for continuously catering to my insatiable concert appetite. And to be able to share these moments with my kid is a parenting dream.

And on that note, their new album was released today and everyone should go buy it because it’s such a gift for the ears, and they’re really sweet, genuine guys who deserve all the support they can get. Their art needs to be enjoyed by all, so spread the word!

Foxblood is: Chris Millward, Tom Beale, Aaron Beale, Stephen Powell, and Brett Powell.  Photo credit: unknowm.

Hailing from Melbourne, Australia, Foxblood is a metal band exploding with cinematic instrumentals, anthemic gang-chants, and soaring choruses. They have recently released two singles off their forth-coming album, and I’m stoked. I want everyone else to be stoked, too. Get stoked with me.

I first heard of this band in their previous incarnation, Glorified, because Chris used to work in the same department as me…just a million miles away in our Melbourne office! When I found out secondhand that he was in a band and proceeded to listen to everything I could find of theirs on YouTube, I was hooked. Not only was this my style of music, but it was fucking legit. So I sent him a fangirly email and have followed this band ever since, from Glorifed to Foxblood.

Brutally heavy breakdowns wrapped with brooding melodies and pulled tight and taut with a black bow of macabre lyricism (“Because love is the violence inside us all” resonates),  Foxblood is a hardcore present for your ears. It doesn’t matter what sorts of grandiose adjectives I string together, all you need to know  is that this band slays, and no matter what genre you want to cage them into, they’re going to blow the top right off of it.

There’s currently an Australian invasion happening Stateside, what with bands like Parkway Drive, Tonight Alive, and Hands Like Houses shaking things up and selling out shows, and I have my fingers crossed that Foxblood will soon be added to that list.

Chris was kind enough to take some time out and answer a few questions about the band, so please read up and get to know your new favorite band from Down Under!

1. On paper, it’s easy to say that Foxblood is just Glorified with a new name, but there’s no denying as a listener that this is an entirely new band, aesthetically and sound-wise. How did Foxblood come to be? 

It was born out of the notion that Glorified as an entity had run its course, as all things do. We ended up with a record that was unprecedented for all of us and we all felt as though Glorified would not do it justice under that particular moniker. It was also a writing process that I was involved in from the very start (coming into Glorified I replaced an old vocalist and I think that some of my creative influence took them in a different direction that what was expected). So I suppose it was a chance for all of us to put out a record as a blank slate, and Foxblood was able to be anything that we wanted, rather than pushing the whole “new sound” idea for Glorified, which by that point had been taken as far as we could, so here we are.

2. Splitting your time between the corporate world and the music industry has a very Clark Kent/Superman vibe to it. I just tried to imagine someone, anyone from our Pittsburgh office moonlighting in a metal band, and failed miserably! How do you describe your band to your co-workers?

We all work full-time in various professions, and it’s something I suppose we keep fairly separate in our respective lives because we all have careers outside of this project. I know that the pipedream is hoping your band makes it so that you never have to work a day again, but we are most certainly realists in that sense. Our jobs fund a polished product, and it’s something we are happy to do because there is genuine pride in what we’re doing as a musical entity. So as far as describing it goes – I usually just drop the word “rock” in there somewhere and tell them that if they look hard enough in the dark corners of YouTube they can see what makes me tick beyond the office. So unfortunately it’s quite a mundane superhero paradigm, but it keeps the gears turning somewhat.

3. What are the essentials you guys keep in your van/bus while touring? Would we find any Vegemite up in there? (SORRY, I HAD TO ASK!)

I’ll say on the record right now that every day I will eat a toasted cheese and Vegemite sandwich and have done so since I was very young, so if the shoe fits I figure that at least I can substantiate that stereotype just a little. In our van though? Usually we end up with a rising tide of empty water bottles because we buy them for no real reason at every stop, there’s usually beers on the go for the passengers so you’d see them a lot, and I carry a pharmacy with me full of stuff to fix any ailment from a headache through to explosive intestinal distress, so it’s quite a mixed bag really.

4. The masquerade girl and Devil appear in both of the videos that Foxblood has recently released, and it’s little details like this that set you apart artistically from many other bands. Was this something that you guys already had in mind while writing this record or did it just come together organically during the video process? Will we see them again in future videos?

I am all about the little details. And I think a goal for me at least was to create something that a listener could get a lot more out of than just listening to the song and watching the video. I think it’s important for there to be many layers to what you do creativity, and I think that someone can get as much or as little out of Foxblood’s narrative/music that they want. There is a lot going on in both the videos that you’d likely overlook on a first listen through, and I guess I’d encourage people who enjoy the music to look deeper into the way the videos are put together, it is all very deliberate and there is meaning in everything you hear and see.

5. What were some bands you listened to as a kid that helped shape you into the vocalist that you are today?

Everyone starts out by copying their favourite vocalists, as much as they’d not like to admit. For me I started when I was 15 because some guys I worked with were into metal and I’d just bought Tony Hawk’s Underground which had a great punk/metal soundtrack. So the first bands that pushed me down this road were Rise Against and Alkaline Trio, but I think I started out on “Let It Unfold You” by Senses Fail, where their singer has this disgustingly raw tone to his voice and so I just emulated that really, I never learnt any real proper technique, which kind of shows now that Foxblood has gone away from having certain sounding vocals at part x and y and just kind of tells a story and however it sounds is the way it comes out. So it was basically my inability to grasp the techniques that most vocalists use that paved the way to kind of experiment with my natural voice a little more to see what it could do.

6. Australia has been exporting some sick talent lately, particularly the type that hits that Warped Tour-scene sweet spot. What are some lesser-known local bands that us Americans should be adding to our play lists?

We’ve got it pretty good over here I won’t lie, but in truth I don’t actually listen to a whole lot of similar- genre (what you’d call “heavy” I suppose) bands (probably just me showing my age really). However, that said, I have been lucky enough to meet some incredibly talented and charismatic people though the course of being involved in music. Bands like Polaris, who have really exploded over here now (and rightfully so), as well as Young Lions (though neither of them are particularly “local”). In a way it’s a pity that they’ve all come so far, even our friends in Make Them Suffer and other bands in that tier now, it’s hard to call them ‘local’, but it is nice to see the rest of the world taking notice of these musicians, and it’s always good to see your friends succeeding on the world stage.

7. There’s something beautiful and haunting about heavy bands collaborating with female singers, a la Bring Me the Horizon and Lights.If Foxblood could work with any female vocalist, from any scene, who would be on your short list?

While I cannot speak on behalf of the others, a personal favourite of mine is Lauren Mayberry from Chvrches. Something I like doing is throwing curveballs to a listener, and so I think I’d someday like to work with a female vocalist in writing a duet, rather than a section of a song, so that they themselves contribute to the writing process, which I think would draw out the best from both parties. I think the concept of a guest-vocalist is trivialised somewhat in the sense that a section of a song is left blank and then filled in by the feature artist, which to me doesn’t do a lot of justice to collaborative potential and also the talents of the guest and the band themselves in having another layer to the piece. So to fully utilise that and come up with something special is most certainly something I’d like to do.

8. Now I’m officially crossing my fingers for a Foxblood/Lauren Mayberry collab! But now for the most important question of this whole damn thing: when can we expect the new album (and hopefully a US tour)?

I’m not 100% on what I can and can’t say here really, but there is a full-length record that has been a product of many years of our lives that will be coming out in the coming months, an exact date however I’m not sure. It’s called “The Devil, The Dark, and The Rain”, and yes, it directly relates to the characters in the video and the storylines that play out, both told and untold. It is all connected, all relative, and something we are very excited for people to hear and immerse themselves in. It is not far away. That I can promise. As far as touring goes, I think it’s just been jumping the mental hurdle of finally getting this record out, and what happens beyond that point I think is up to the listener. If travel and touring becomes a part of this, then I am sure we will be elated. At the moment, for me anyway, I’m just relieved to finally have music out there.

*******

Please, please, please give this band some of your time today. If you want to join me on Foxblood Album Release Watch, like them on Facebook for updates! To tide you over, their new single No Heroes is available for purchase on iTunes. If you need me, I’ll just be over here studying their music videos for more clues.

Today has been pretty miserable, so miserable that I DIDNT EVEN WANT TO LEAVE THE HOUSE FOR ICE CREAM. (Don’t worry, Henry brought it back for me.)

I was laying on the couch being miserable and I kept telling Henry to please turn the channel because 2 Broke Girls was on and I’m sorry but every single voice was sodomizing me and I just couldn’t handle it for one moment more while Henry was slowly scanning the cable guide menu thing so I grabbed the remote and blindly put it on the first thing I saw which was a Mamas and Papas special on WQED – you know the kind of special, where they show a truncated documentary about the band, spliced with YOUR DONATION MAKES A DIFFERENCE!!! interruptions, where they try to wow you with a CD set that can be yours for the GENEROUS DONATION OF $256.

I love these things. We recently watched one on the Carpenters and I was in some weird 1960s fugue state for the next 6 days.

KEEP QUALITY TV ALIVE!

Thanks to Michelle Phillips, I fell down the Knots Landing rabbit hole. That was one of the shows I watched when I was a kid in the 80s, thinking it made me so cool and sophisticated because it was a grown-up show (along with Falcons Crest and Hunter, obvi). I remember watching some comedian on an HBO special at my Pappap’s house; he did lots of sight gags and pantomiming, etc, most of which went right over my head, until he tied knots in several pieces of ropes and tossed them in the air.

As they landed on the ground, he looked at the audience and said, “Knots landing.”

I thought it was the funniest shit ever, mostly because finally, I understood a thing he was doing.

Actually, I was just thinking about this guy at work a few weeks ago and asked Glenn if he knew who I was talking about because Glenn is old but he said no and that’s because Glenn doesn’t like humor.

[ETA: Bob Nelson! His name is Bob Nelson. Henry is better at Googling than me. My searches are too narrow. I’d get fired for that at work. WORK JOKE, YOU WON’T GET IT. (Actually, that’s not a joke.)]

(ETAx2: it was balloons, not ropes.)

Naturally, I had to look up the Knots Landing opening theme on YouTube, at which point my Joan van Arc hatred was reignited.

Fuck that bitch.

“When are they going to get the part where she dies?” I asked Henry, referring to Mama Cass, obviously.

“Um….the end?”

Once they got to the 1970s portion of the biopic, every time they would start a sentence with, “And then Mama Cass—” I would rush to say, “CHOKED ON A HAM SANDWICH!”

“That’s not really how she died,” Henry sighed.

“Yes it is. That’s how I drew the Mama Cass Glenn at work, so….”

So then it got to the part where Michelle Phillips nonchalantly talks about how Cass calls her one night after a show and is all, “OMG I’M SO HAPPY” and how surprising it was to hear the next day that Cass had died—

“EATING A HAM SANDWICH!!!” I cried as Michelle calmly said, “—in her sleep.”

Henry gave me a disappointed frown.

“Yeah, in her sleep, on a ham sandwich,” I argued.

“That’s not true, that’s just a rumor that the fat shamers started,” Henry sighed.

“No, here, I’ll google it—OK yeah, it says it’s an urban legend but that’s just because they’re trying to preserve her pride,” I explained.

By the end of the show, Michelle Phillips is talking about how she’s the only one left and—-

“Michelle Phillips killed them all! Michelle Phillips is the ham sandwich!” I screamed.

“Did you just tweet that out?” Henry asked, basically all of his energy drained by this point. You would think he would be used to my obsessive latching-on to the small things by now.

Like when I became obsessed with freeing some guy who went to some island and got accused of killing of a person and he totally didn’t do it because he was so handsome but this was like 2009 and I can’t remember what island or who he killed, or you know, his name.

But anyway, remember when Henry said “tweet that out”? God, what an ElderDork.

“I wonder why Cass’s daughter never sang?” Henry mused out loud.

“She could have been in Wilson Phillips!” I yelled.

“Yeah but then it might not have been called Wilson Phillips,” he pointed out.

“They could have been called H—”

“Ham Sandwich,” he finished for me, rolling his eyes.

I AM GOING TO LISTEN TO THE MAMA AND PAPAS ALL NIGHT NOW. I am not going to eat a ham sandwich though because ew, meat. I might actually paint a ham sandwich, though.

Also, what was up with some of those early album covers where their name was spelled Mama’s and Papa’s?! Who approved those?! Probably the same person who approves my blog posts! (Oh wait, that’s just me and my unwillingness to proofread.)

Now some Italian d-bag is singing for more WQED donations. What a fucking Saturday night. And to think I was just going to take some pills and go to bed at 5.

(Kidding. I don’t take pills. Because I don’t have pills.)

Ooh, I hope that Gino Vanelli concert re-airs at some point tonight!!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BJGmIzdgbWp/?taken-by=somnambulant_art

With the exception of Warped Tour, Henry hasn’t gone to a show with me since JUNE. While I’m mostly ok with being a loner these days, it’s still nice to have the big dum dum with me so I told him he was going and he answered with a sigh that could be heard around the ‘Burgh.

I woke up Monday morning feeling positively giddy at the prospect of Henry going to see Sianvar with me after work. Sometimes I kind of enjoy his company, I guess, I don’t know. Stop looking at me like that.

As the door guy was putting my rubber ducky wristband on me, I dorkily cried, “Were you at the John Carpenter show?!”

He looked taken aback but then smiled and said that he was.

“I knew that was you!” I said. “I couldn’t imagine where I knew you from but then I realized it was from here.” I mean, god knows how many wristbands he’s applied to my arm.

So then we talked about how great that show was and Henry was all, “WHAT WERE YOU TALKING ABOUT I’M A JEALOUS BOYFRIEND” after I rejoined him.

God Henry. Maybe if you wouldn’t send me off into the wild without a chaperone, these connections wouldn’t happen.

We had some time to have a drink in the back of the room, where we talked about the OLYMPICS with the bartender. There a million reasons why I absolutely love going to shows at the Smiling Moose but a big one is that the bartenders there are so FUCKING NICE. I’m not a big bar-talker, but any time I have gone there, I have engaged in the most pleasant conversations with the girls behind the bar. The bartenders at the Altar Bar were absolute assholes and that was one of the reasons I didn’t give a fuck when that venue closed. Smiling Moose forever!

While we were leaning against the bar with our drinks, some older man with a cane came limping toward us and said, “Sup crew?”

I was so fucking excited at the prospect of being in someone’s crew that I way too happily exclaimed, “Hi!”

He looked at me weird and then repeated what he said, which was actually, “Restroom?”

:(

I pointed the way and the bartender laughed. “It’s because you guys look like you know what you’re doing!”

I mean, duh. Don’t ask me for directions to the restroom at work, but if we’re at any music venue in the city, I can draw you a map on your palm with my eyes closed.

Meanwhile, the first band had started playing and I was s-s-s-stoked because it was one of my favorite local bands, False Accusations! Henry was like, “Oh boy” as soon as he recognized them. I chugged my Ace, slammed down my empty glass, and left Henry at the bar in favor for a spot near the stage.

THE SCREAMER WAS WEARING AN ALEXISONFIRE SHIRT, WOOOOO!!

https://www.instagram.com/p/BJO7nLfAFHk/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

Henry joined me just in time to put his hand on my shoulder and gently pull me out of the way before I got cold-cocked with the neck of a guitar. Guys, I love your band but I’ve got some brittle bones! Go easy on this old broad.

These are the times when Henry wishes I liked Coldplay or Of Monsters and Men like other ladies my age.

What DO other ladies my age like?! I’m so out-of-touch with my demographic.

(Also, see the guy in the dress shirt in that video? NEMESIS. I hated him at another show at the Smiling Moose but now I can’t remember show or why. BUT I DON’T FORGET A FACE.)

The next band was Atlas Decay. They had a lot of family and friends there because they’re local. I liked them well enough but I was anxious for Sianvar so I drifted off a lot. Also, I started to recognize some people in the crowd, like this one girl who was also at the Hail the Sun show last year and wound up becoming friends at the bar with a guy who is security at Mr. Small’s; a photographer we talked to outside of Diesel while waiting for the doors to open for the Hotel Books show (Henry stopped me from saying hello to him because he thinks I get weird when I talk to people); and my high school Instagram friend who started following me two years ago after some other show at Smiling Moose (Henry wouldn’t let me say hi to him either because he thinks 37-year-old women talking to 17-year-olds at shows in weird).

Also, there were a ton of people who were there alone! This is never the case when I’m there alone! There was a girl in a Circa Survive shirt who I totally would have talked to if Henry hadn’t been there with me. She ended up buddying up later with some other guy who was there alone and at one point I think they were talking about the upcoming Anthony Green show and I believe they were trying to remember what band Mat Kerekes (who is opening for him) is in and I SO BADLY wanted slide into their real life DMs and say, “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear, and I believe CITIZEN is the answer you’re looking for” but Henry gave me the “DON’T DO IT” look.

After Atlas Decay was Save Us From the Archon! Oh, how I love these proggy Pittsburgh peeps. Their bassist Samantha recently left the band to pursue her career so I was pretty bummed about that because the scene needs as many girls as it can get. And Samantha was a fucking bitchin’ bassist, you guys.

“What’s her career?” Henry asked.

“I don’t know but I bet she’s stupid-smart, being in a band like that. So probably an astrophysicist,” I shrugged.

SUFTA was recently signed to Tragic Hero Records, so they weren’t just playing at Smiling Moose that night because they were local support: they were playing there because they’re actually ON TOUR with Sianvar. I’m so stoked for them! They had a ton of family and friends there that night, including one of their moms, who dragged a stool right over to the stage and sat there in her denim farmers dress, literally headbanging and screaming.

INSPIRATION.

#MOMGOALS

My heart soared.

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Henry was ready to murder his eardrums around this point and his frown was getting so deep and droopy that I feared it was going to usurp the whole lower half of his face, like an actual Snapchat filter.

“You should just be happy that you’re spending time with me!” I shouted over the mathy vibes.

“I’d rather be doing that at home on the couch,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, but this is like…a date!” I said optimistically.

“Dates are when both people have fun,” he sighed.

“Eh…not always.”

Here’s Mom chatting up my photographer friend and Circa Survive girl.

Around this time, some guy arrived wearing a Number 12 Looks Like You shirt and I got unreasonably excited about this.

“Remember when I liked them?!” I cried.

“Not really,” Henry mumbled.

“Yeah it was probably in like 2006 or something. When I went through my really heavy screamo* phase.”

“Nope.”

*(Real screamo as in “not the Used” or any of the bands that are commonly mistaken for screamo because people JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND.)

So I wanted to tell that guy I liked his shirt but then some other guy stopped and said, “Hey man, I like your shirt” so then I couldn’t because I was standing right there and I would like a TRY-HARD.

UGH, my life.

MY DUM DUM LIFE.

My Iron Lung was next. I was totally in their way when they were trying to get all their shit before they set up, because I am always in the way no matter where I stand in that place. It’s inevitable. Even Henry was like, “Stop being in the way” and I was like, “WHERE DO YOU WANT ME TO GO THERE IS LITERALLY NO PLACE FOR ME ON THIS EARTH.”

God, what a deep fucking realization for me, you know? Life parallels. Ugh.

So yes. My Iron Lung — they were great! The singer reminded me a bit of Pacey from Dawson’s Creek meets Alex Vincent all grown-up from Child’s Play, so I was into it. But again, I was anxious for them to be done because Sianvar.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BJO_NtTgwMZ/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

My Iron Lung reminded me of the Iron Lung Glenn that I made for Halloween at work one year. (It’s totally blurry, too bad so sad.)

OK, but then it was finally time for Sianvar, and as each of them walked past us to take the stage, I made all kinds of swooning/fainting couch pantomimes and Henry just frowned.

(Did I mention that earlier in the night, he elbowed me and said, “There’s Will”? Because he did. Because he reluctantly knows everyone in this scene whether he likes it or not!)

Quick summary: Dance Gavin Dance is one of my all-time favorite bands and if you didn’t already know that then this must be your first time here (I’m sorry). The founder/guitarist of that band is a brilliant man named Will Swan, one of the most underrated musicians if you ask me (and a lot of other people, probably). Sometime ago, Will started his own record label called Blue Swan and it is the home to some of the most magnificent, unique post-hardcore bands of our time. There is a distinct sound associated with this label, and Will had curated some beautiful groups of musicians to represent that.

One of those bands is a Blue Swan supergroup, featuring Will, Donovan from Hail the Sun (they’ve recently been signed to Equal Vision, a bigger label so you can’t blame them), Sergio from Stolas, and Michael and Joseph from A Lot Like Birds. Together, they gel into this mystical, sonic beast and even Henry was like, ‘They were good.”

I mean, they were fucking exceptional. My eyes didn’t know who to look at! So much talent!

Henry said he hates how Donovan moves and I was pretty offended. Henry can be so judgey sometimes. I mean, how would Henry like him to move?! How would HENRY move if he was a singer on stage?!

Donovan moves like Pinocchio at times and that appeals to me, so suck it Henry.

Also, I love how Donovan stares over everyone’s heads with an intense, murderous gaze and sings so hard that he starts to rage-shake. I think he’s an amazing frontman and his voice is unreal, like why aren’t more people talking about this time? Why isn’t Hail the Sun a household name? Why did Chooch RUIN MY HAIL THE SUN EXPERIENCE AT WARPED TOUR?!

(I realize I just saw them last winter, but I’m not over my sour Warped Tour HTS experience. Thanks, son.)

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I liked that Sergio chilled up on a windowsill at one point, like “I’m just gonna sit here and casually play these complicated guitar parts while staring dreamily out the window at Carson Street.” Henry just rolled his eyes when I asked him if he too thought that was awesome.

Henry just doesn’t get excited about anything and I feel genuinely sorry for him. That cunt.

After the show Henry asked me if I wanted to talk to Will Swan and then we both just laughed because yeah right – me, talk to someone in a band? I don’t talk, I blubber. And then I cry. So we just left before any of that could happen. I’ll just be over here admiring you from afar, Will Swan. Le sigh.

***

After the show, we stopped at GetGo for our super fancy date dinner and when we got back in the car, Henry dropped the car key and spent the next fifteen minutes swearing while practically fisting the space in between the car seat and console where lip gloss, change, prosthetic fingers, and apparently car keys go to die.

It was so stupid that I started to crack up and then, you guys — get this: HENRY STARTED CRACKING UP TOO.

God, what a great night. Thank you, Sianvar.

I follow Kesha on Instagram because why wouldn’t I follow Kesha on Instagram, and as soon as she posted about the limited run, small venue tour she had spontaneously put together, my ticket-buying reflex went on HIGH ALERT. And like any good teenager, I was right there on the computer the moment tickets went on sale, because I wanted to see her perform reimagined versions of her songs with the CREEPIES as her backing band.

I mean, fuck yeah, right.

The show sold out in like a day so good thing I excel at this shit.

After eating dinner down the street at the Grant, Henry pulled up to Mr. Smalls to kick me to the curb while his mom screamed and I mean SCREAMED, “have a good time, sweetie!

” while Chooch sarcastically cried, “bye MOMMY I love you!

”

Ugh forever.

Chooch was also mad at me because he didn’t know I was going to see Kesha until that day and felt betrayed that he wasn’t invited to tag along.

Waited in a long line with a bunch of annoying people. Stood near the right side of the stage with a bunch of annoying people. Suffered through a super lame DJ set by DanceCRUSH (yawn) with a bunch of annoying people. I thought the girl member of DanceCRUSH had on a shirt that said CUNT on the back and I thought, “Wow, how progressive, maybe I like these people” but it turned out that it said “Climate” so she went back to being basic and actually her mannerisms and were fairly annoying so I had to stop looking at her and instead I focused on the crowd, the large majority of which was standing still, looking bored, because if this is what they wanted to stand through maybe they’d have gone to a high school dance.

But finally, Kesha and the Creepies took the stage at 9:15 and the couple dry-humping next to me finally moved over far enough that I no longer felt like I was in danger of contacting anything.

You guys at one point they kissed SO SLOPPILY that when their nasty lips finally broke the seal, numerous strings of sticky, slimy saliva kept their faces connected and it was like the most sexual hatching of Gremlins ever. I started burping up the beer I forced back earlier at Grant’s.

Meanwhile, there were these two glittered girls in front of me and we were coexisting harmoniously, screaming when Kesha came out, jumping around together, just being genuinely stoked and enjoying the show, when the boyfriend-girlfriend duo of DanceCRUSH emerged from backstage. The girl part of the duo came barrelling over, pushed me back into the wall, and forcefully hugged the two girls in front of me. And then proceeded to TALK TO THEM in a very annoying “I’M A REALLY COOL LOCAL DJ WHO PLAYS TOP 40 HITS ON MY LAPTOP DID YOU SEE ME UP THERE ON THAT STAGE PULLING FACES AND DABBING?” voice while her boyfriend apologized to me for blocking my view and moved over so his stupid hat wasn’t hitting my forehead.

So he gets a pass.

His girlfriend was a fucking grade A asshole though who, as a “performer,” should have more respect for keeping her faux-ghetto mouth shut while someone is on stage singing but what do I know.

Ugh, I just closed my eyes and saw her stupid face and her stupid fucking hair bun in my mind.

And it was funny because the girls in front of me were clearly trying to enjoy Kesha after they got the HI HOW ARE YOUs out of the way, but that fucking DJ douche just kept on running her mouth and her personality was so exaggerated and cartoonish, like she was created for a Parks and Recreation episode but then scrapped because she wasn’t funny enough.

So basically I missed “Dinosaur” in its entirety because of her inconsiderate jawing off and bun-bobbing but after a few minutes, she screamed, “BRB!!!!!!” to the girls and then walked back to the secret side stage door AND NEVER CAME BACK, SEE YA BITCH.

And then the rest of the night was absolutely perfect, no assholes were around me, Kesha was a beautiful glittered sight, and it was good vibes only.

“Nothing bad is allowed inside these four walls. Not your ex-boyfriend, not my lawsuit—” and we all started screaming so loud that I’m not sure what she said after that.

She did mention her lawsuit a lot and I was extra glad that I got to be one of the people there supporting her in person because the whole situation makes me sick and even if I wasn’t already a Kesha fan, I would be hardpressed not to have her back. There was a lot of “Fuck the man” and “Free Kesha” chants throughout the night and it must have really made her feel great.

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“I’m tired of people saying I can’t sing,” she said at one point, and I’m here to tell you that Kesha can SANG y’all.

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https://www.instagram.com/p/BJGtOo9Am0H/?taken-by=ohhonestlyconcerts

What a fucking hot, sweaty party. After that idiot DJ went away, I decided that I loved everyone around me and it turned out to be one of the best solo shows I’ve attended so far. My throat hurt for two days from all the screaming and it was wonderful!

Kesha is an inspiration. She ended the night with “I Shall Be Released’ and it was really hard to keep the old eyes dry. I hope she never gives up and I hope that Dr. Luke eventually finds himself out of a career. I know that’s not likely because men get away with so much disgusting shit in the music industry, and in general. Oh, to be a privileged white man!

Speaking of privileged white men, when I left Mr. Small’s, Henry was nowhere to be found. Usually his Dad Game is strong and he’s sitting in the car on a darkened street, looking like the fucking Night Stalker, so that I can just jump right in and not have to stand on a corner with strangers.

I didn’t see him and I noticed that he hadn’t texted me his location, which is like Rule #1 in the Dad Handbook, so I called him THREE TIMES and he never answered. I called Chooch, who also didn’t answer. Finally, as I stood there in the dark, the rage brewing inside me, he called me back and gave me some shaky excuse about “traffic.” I snapped at him to hurry and as I hung up, I heard someone call out my name and it ended up being my friend Casandra whom I haven’t seen since like 2004! She recently moved back to Pittsburgh from LA and it was so nice to her familiar face again! She and her husband Steve waited with me and we spent that time catching up and kind of half-assedly waiting near Kesha’s bus with a small crowd while some dickhead guy sitting on the sidewalk kept trying to deter us.

“Do you guys really think she’s going to be here, in such an obvious spot? She’s going to be on the other side of the building,” he said in this lazy lilt that, along with his smudged eyeliner, totally rubbed me the wrong way.

When we continued to stand there and talk, he interrupted us AGAIN and said, “Seriously, I’ve been doing this for like five years and I’m telling you, she’s not going to come out here.”

OK GREAT, GUY! COOL STORY!

“Well, I’m waiting for my ride, and I’m going to just keep standing here anyway, so….” I said, turning my back on him and continuing my conversation with Casandra, so seriously STOP INTERRUPTING. Jesus Kesha, why are your fans such assholes?

Anyway, running into Casandra was like the cherry on top of a fantastic show — I’m glad that someone I know was also there and experienced the majesty that is Kesha and the Creepies!

****
The next day, I was talking to Chooch and he said, “Oh yeah, when I saw that you called me last night, I figured it was because the show was over so I went upstairs and woke up Daddy.”

THAT SON OF A BITCH WAS SLEEPING, THERE WAS NO “TRAFFIC.”

On our way home from FOREVER FAR ICE CREAM on my birthday (a/k/a Forbush’s), I fell down a 1980s girl-pop rabbit hole, as previously mentioned. I was peeping the related artists for either Stacey Q or Lisa Lisa, who can remember, when I stumbled across a name that my heart swell.

Stevie B.

If you were friends with me in high school and are reading this right now, you’re probably starting to twitch, recalling the aural trauma you endured every time you got in a car with me and I popped in my mix tape of a radio-requested “Because I Love You,” not just once but 8 different radio recordings, all starting with my angelic voice manically blurting out, “This is Susie….from Clairton….” like anyone from school would have honestly been listening to Lite FM, but you never know, so I always used an alias. Usually the recordings would get cut off, or I would miss the beginning. But that tape was all I had.

I can’t even remember how it started – summer before junior year, probably. I just happened to hear it once on the radio (Spanish One Hit Wonder night?). My heart skipped a beat and my inherent obsessiveness sunk its claws into me and demanded me to grind this song into the ground.

The problem — or challenge — of the 90s was that you couldn’t just hop online and download a song. I had to physically walk into a record store and look for a Stevie B. CD. Maybe you’re shocked, but none of the local record stores carried it, nor did they even know who the fuck Stevie B. even was.

According to Wiki, Stevie B. was influential in the Hi-NRG dance music scene in the late 80s, so go fuck yourself National Record Mart, and probably Camelot, too. AND MUSIC OASIS.

I was going to have to be content with my mixtape full of radio recordings, I thought. Until I mentioned it one day to my Aunt Sharon.

The thing you need to know about my Aunt Sharon is that she was relentless when it came to obtaining something. She loved writing letters to companies, making calls to customer service hotlines, and in this case, flipping through the Yellow Pages and calling every last record store in Pittsburgh, until she was finally able to get one of them to order my Stevie B Holy Grail.

All the other things she could have been doing, but she stopped everything until she made damn well sure that I was going to have a motherfucking Stevie B CD to play a million times on repeat.

That story has a much happier ending than the time Sharon went to the mall to buy me Da Brat’s debut CD only to refuse after discovering it had A PARENTAL ADVISORY sticker on it. (My mom ended up buying it for me later because let’s be real, she didn’t give a shit about that.)

***

I found “Because I Love You” on Spotify that day, because it’s 2016 and if you can’t find something on the Internet then it probably only existed in your dreams. OR THE GOVT IS HIDING IT FROM YOU.

With much anticipation from Henry and Chooch, I pushed play; even with a large nostalgia cloud to the head, I still couldn’t help but notice that something about it was off.

“Like right there, when he says ‘Come on in’ — he’s adding a syllable to it and THAT’S NOT IN THE RADIO EDIT!” I cried. And then toward the end, he swaps out an “I” for a “STEVIE B.”

What the hell.

“This is all wrong,” I said with panicked desperation, scrolling through Spotify in search of the actual album version and not all these “REMASTERED” bastardized versions of the original classic.

“Ugh, they all sound the same!” Chooch groaned from the backseat after I played the third one.

“NO, THERE’S A VERY DISTINCT DIFFERENCE AND I CAN’T LIKE THESE MODERN VERSIONS, I NEED THE 1990 MASTERPIECE,” I angrily yelled, turning to YouTube for assistance. Go home, Spotify.

And of course YouTube pulled through for me.

“Do you hear the difference!?” I shouted.

“Nope,” Henry mumbled, praying that this Stevie B marathon would not surpass 4 plays.

Oh my heart soared! Hearing this song again, remembering the time I serenaded everyone in the parking lot of Dell’s Ice Cream in Munhall on a humid summer night, remembering Sharon giving me the actual CD after it arrived in the mail, remembering the excitement of getting my hands on something so elusive—it was bittersweet.

And it also inspired me to full-body pantomime my emotions along with all the good parts while Henry was “TRYING TO DRIVE!!!!”

I’m positive I thanked you for this back in 1996, but hey Sharon? If you’re reading this, thanks again. <3

FINAL WARPED TOUR 2016 POST, I FUCKING SWEAR TO GOD. YOU HAVE MY WORD! But I would be remiss to close the chapter without allowing Chooch to provide his side of the story. Really, he’s only doing this because he gets to use my laptop to answer the questions and for some reason, this is like a huge deal to him, I have no idea why. I guess it’s like when my mom used to let me use her typewriter?

Dear Chooch, this was your fourth Warped Tour. MUCH AWE! Do you feel like a pro at this point?

Yes, I feel like a pro because now that I’ve been there 4 times I know where everything is. So jokes on you, lazy people on your couch reading this piece of crap blog. I know what to do when you first get in, you run straight to the VANS tent and say a secret word to get free stuff! Stuff a beginner wouldn’t know.

Please tell us who Courtney is and why you’re so AFRAID OF HER:

Courtney is a girl who was in 7th grade when I was in 1st and she liked me, but I didn’t like her that much. So mommy bullies me and says I like her and I blush when I see her. BUT I DON’T (flips table). I’m also not scared of her so shut up with these mean questions.

THEN HOW COME EVERY YEAR WHEN WE SEE HER AT WARPED TOUR, YOU GET ALL STUPID AND GIGGLY WHEN SHE SWEETLY SAYS, “HEY RILEY! WHAT BANDS ARE YOU GOING TO SEE?” Lol-forever.

I’m not answering that.

Say your old as fuck 4th grade teacher has never heard of Warped Tour before. How would you explain it to her? (We are currently arguing because I’m “allowed” to swear on my blog and he’s not, lol.)

Well I would say to her that she doesn’t need to know because she can barely walk 1 mile, so to walk about 7 miles would be an instant heart attack for her. So maybe when you’re younger, OH WAIT!

How the hell did you manage to score a free shirt at the Truth tent? 

Well it started when the TRUTH guys were calling for people to come over and play a game. So he said “Who wants some free shit!” so I said “WOOO” and he told me to come over and play the game. So we waited and waited for other people, there was already a couple people. So finally we started, and we played the floor is lava. So we had to jump on small bricks and the last person had to pick them up on the way across the lava pool. Our team won first so we got to go up to the free shirts at the tent then everyone else got to go up.

You had some dude make you a tshirt that said “Dick Pic” and featured a picture of Donald Trump. Obviously you CANNOT EVER WEAR THAT TO SCHOOL, but here is your platform to tell the Internet how you feel about the current presidential race:

Well I think Ronald Dump is a mother(bleeping) scumbag and he can go (bleep) himself. Why can’t Obama secretly run for president again and win so we can have him for 8 more years so we can live in peace and not have a stupid wall. Screw you Dump.

OK so Emarosa basically made all of our dreams come true. Pretend you’re Henry telling his WORK-HUSBAND DAVE about what happened:

Well first I would say: “Oh sup Dave my bruh. So me and my “girlfriend” be driving to da Warped Tour and be watching dis band who be singing the songs we be liking. Den we be walking up hill to der tent to meet Bradley. And me was out of breath because u know me old as hell.”

When did Daddy turn into a pirate? Anyway, next question. Remember when you ruined my life during Hail the Sun’s set? TELL ALL YOUR FANS ABOUT WHAT YOU DID.

Oh yeah. When I really wanted to play Pokémon Go but you wouldn’t let me because oh god forbid you couldn’t hear me even though I could hear myself. So yeah.

The PETA2 people successfully turned you into a vegetarian — for now, anyway. Tell everyone about the exhibit we saw there and how it made you feel, using the biggest words you know:

Well it was flabbergasting, the tent, it had clothes and shoes that was made out of anthropomorphic skin and flesh. But of course it wasn’t legitimate skin it was fraudulent skin. They had sorority girl uggs made out of humanistic skin and they even had leather jackets made out of bipedal skin. So yeah. It was weird. They had it because they wanted payback for using animal hide and skin for clothes and shoes.

What were some of your favorite merch booths there this year?

Some of my favorite merch booths would have to be….

5- The Twix Booth. The Twix Booth was a booth where you got to try Left Twix and Right Twix. Right Twix was the best because it was bigger and more rich with chocolate. Then you get to get a picture taken of you with your choice of Twix, so yeah.

4- The Peta2 Tent. This tent was cool because (see above)…

3- Choonimals Booth- The Choonimals booth was just a clothing booth, but had really cool looking tanks and shirts to wear at Warped Tour. The shirts have zombie animals and stuff that look cool.

2- TRUTH VAN- This was a cool van wear you play games or dance for free stuff. So it’s a win/win.

1- Vans Tent. So this tent was a tent you go to at the beginning of the day to get free stuff like a water bottle, glasses, and wallets. But you need a secret code Warped Tour posts on their Instagram.

How many Twix do you think you ate that day from the Twix booth?

Well I think I ate about 3 Twix, 2 when I first saw the tent then 1 when the were giving them at out for whoever passed.

Remember when we ditched Henry twice? Hahaha that was so great.

Yeah, it was funny. He just walks around like “Doyyyy, No ones watching me so I can scratch my butt and pick my nose and daydream about Dave.”

You met up with Bradley a second time that day, when I was off watching some other band. What did you talk about that time? AND STOP MEETING THE WHOLE ENTIRE BAND WITHOUT ME, YOU JERK-DICK.

Well, they were doing signings, so I went over and said hi. Then Bradley asked for our address so he can send us stuff, but we forgot to so now he can’t send us stuff. ): Also shut up! I do what I want.

I found out at Warped Tour that you’re apparently obsessed with Chunk! No, Captain Chunk. When did this happen and tell the kind people of the Internet what they’re like.

Well it started when I first saw it on my IPhone 3, mommy downloaded one of their songs on it so I wondered who are they. So when they were at the Ampitheater I was like “I want to see them!” So we did. They are a French Pop Punk band. So I like them because when Bertrand Poncet (The Singer/Vocalist) said Pittsburgh, he said “Peetsborgh” So yeah. I just really like them.

OK so you like Warped Tour, but you hated Bled Fest? EXPLAIN YOURSELF. Bled Fest was bae.

Well Bled Fest had no bands that I liked it was all like bands that you like, so I hate them. (except Emarosa, PTV, Chunk, No Captain Chunk! ETC.)

If you were making a Warped Tour 101 video, what would you tell people to expect about spending a whole day running back and forth between 6 stages?

Well I would say “Wear Tennis shoes not dress shoes or fancy shoes, you’re going to an outside concert with many people (most likely to rain) you’re not going to a ballet recital.”

What age do you think you’ll be when you start going without me and Henry? (I mean, obviously I’ll still be there because I’M NOT MISSING WARPED TOUR just to save you from being embarrassed in front of your dumb friends.)

Well I would be about 18-20 (If it lasts that long) but you’re not going with me and also I have no friends, so deal with it.

Oh shut up, you do have friends. They’re just cool enough yet to like good music, lol. Name 5 bands you hope will be at Warped Tour next year.

Ok easy! CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

5- Pierce The Veil.

4- Emarosa.

3- Chunk! No, Captain Chunkhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grOz8I2PKrE!

2- JuleVera

1- The Summer Set.

Well thanks for even reading this piece of crap blog. I’m surprised my mom has friends! Please if you read this don’t comment, just dislike this. It’s my moms blog for gods sake!