[Denver?] This band seemed
established and well liked by the crowd. Some Misfits, some street punk. They
had a song about fish n chips, which struck me as kind of funny. The
magnificent mosh pit led me to develop a theory that musically striving
communities have better mosh pits because the people feel they have to keep up
with some imaginary ideal. I liked the anthemic song they ended with: “These
are all glory days.” I went to the bathroom and came back to a riled up Rockboy
– apparently the band had told the crowd that people who don’t dress the dress
anymore shouldn’t be counted as punks – this started a long conversation about
what punk really means – Rockboy and I were in agreement that it’s ideas rather
than clothes. Ironically, I kept smelling grandma smells at the show – the
downside of avant garde hair is the very stodgy smell of aerosol hairspray. (Photo courtesy of
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