Into The Pit
It happened in a basement. The first hardcore punk show that I have ever went to took place in a 10 ft by 20 ft room with cement walls and a low ceiling. The room had an inconveniently placed furnace that had to have a mattress duct taped to it in order to prevent harm to the crowd and to the furnace. It was the fall of 2006 and my friends had asked me to come and watch their band, “The Bill Cosby Murder Project” play at the house of the guitar player's sister. I didn't have the faintest clue as to what hardcore punk was about, and what I later found out was that the whole genre basically died at the end of the 1980's so it doesn't have any coverage in any form of mainstream media. If I knew about punk then I may have simply told them that I wasn't interested, and that I had to stay home and clean my dad's garage or something, but my curiosity and naiveness got the best of me. I accepted their invitation and waited for the chaos that would ensue.
I was nervous that I would stand out to all the Bush haters at the show, but once the music got started nobody cared who you were, or what you thought, you were there because you cared about what this band was doing in one way or another. The first song started and all of a sudden it was like when a gun goes off at the beginning of a race; everyone started to run around in a circle pushing each other violently. All I kept thinking was that someone was going to fall down and get trampled by the swarm of people. I was standing off to the side trying muster up the courage to run into the pit, but I was scared to death of the hurricane of people that were piled into this concrete arena. Meanwhile the band is playing so loud that you could light a stick of dynamite and no one would hear it. Chris, the vocalist was screaming lines into the microphone that might as well have had no lyrics because not one word was audible over the drums and guitar. The thundering of the drums, played by Chris' brother Eric, were like cannons rapidly firing, bouncing off the walls and striking each and every one of our eardrums. The simplistic yet powerful guitar work was played by Jesse, the brother of the owner of the house. During each song he stood in one spot, his face emotionless almost in a trance, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there were 25 other people in the room with him.
A few songs went by and I still hadn't jumped into the mass of people, but then I saw what I had feared would happen the whole time; someone fell and was about to be trampled by 20 sets of feet. What happened next I never would have expected, in a split second the whole crowd just stopped brutalizing each other and they helped the person to their feet, rescuing them from being crushed. I couldn't believe my eyes, these people were just engaging in one of the most violent events I had witnessed in my then 16 years on this planet and they had the courtesy to pick up one of their fallen companions. This was the turning point for me and I decided I had nothing to lose, and standing on the side looking like an idiot was something I wasn't going to be doing any longer. I pushed my mass into the crowd. I was suddenly jumping up and down, being pushed back and forth, getting elbows to the face, and at the same time I was pushing back and enjoying myself. I was letting go of built anxiety with every push to these sweaty, funny dressed, government hating group of people that I was now a part of. After the show Eric asked me what I thought about the show.
“What?” I said, my ears were ringing so badly you would have thought that the whole world was talking about me simultaneously. I think his question was answered when he saw the humongous grin on my face.
This show had such an affect on me that it gave me the incentive to actually clean my dad's garage so I could host shows at his house. I hosted a show on Halloween where many people came dressed in costume, and we had another show at my dad's place that lasted from 2-10 pm when we had to quit so the neighbors wouldn't call the police. Even though those shows were great, the first one that I ever went to will be the one that I will remember for the rest of my life.
its good

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