Kill all the white man.
Lucky me, I was able to cross a item off of my bucket list. Although they had not been to Baltimore in ten years, my favorite punk band, NOFX, swung by the inner harbor.
.Let me say, very few shows ever live up any expectations I have. I can always find something that makes the show less-than-worthy. Flogging Molly had warm beer (?!). Social Distortion played a very short set. The Dropkick Murphy's play too goddamn loud, to the point you can't even hear the singer. I can go on and on. Those shows weren't bad, it just wasn't well, perfect.
I can say, without a doubt, the NOFX show was pretty much everything I thought it would be, and well, more. The crowd was insane - easily the most I've ever seen at this venue - and most of it was composed of young punks, and some old farts like me. I also saw the biggest razor mohawk ever - the chick sporting had to duck to get in doorways. Respect.
I threw myself into every pit, and didn't care when my shoe laces snapped, or beer was spilled on me, and launched every one I could into the crowd to surf. I became a dervish of punk rock, and just lost myself in the show. If you were on the floor of this large venue, you were in a pit of some kind, only those who stood in the balcony were spared, and jeered at often. I can't recall being more exhausted and dehydrated at any other show than this one. I've been to a fair share of punk shows, but this one was just punk as fuck. It was violent, loud, and hilarious, a triumvirate of pure awesome.
On a related note, Fat Mike really, really flaps his gob. Somehow, a 10 year old kid got into a 21 and up show. Mike hadn't even started his first song yet, when he likes right at the kid in the front row of packed bodies and tells him "You're gonna be my bitch the whole night." The crowd laughs, and Mike clearly didn't mean any malice to it. At the end of every odd song, he would give the kid sage advice on how to please the ladies, namely the fine art of fisting ("Be sure and cut your fingernails!"), or how to make moves on the womens ("Hefe will show you how to breakdance.") At the end of the show, Mike gave that kid his very nice bass guitar and told him he pretty much had to be a bass player in a punk band, whether he liked it or not. The crowd roared their approval, and I screamed with them.
.Let me say, very few shows ever live up any expectations I have. I can always find something that makes the show less-than-worthy. Flogging Molly had warm beer (?!). Social Distortion played a very short set. The Dropkick Murphy's play too goddamn loud, to the point you can't even hear the singer. I can go on and on. Those shows weren't bad, it just wasn't well, perfect.
I can say, without a doubt, the NOFX show was pretty much everything I thought it would be, and well, more. The crowd was insane - easily the most I've ever seen at this venue - and most of it was composed of young punks, and some old farts like me. I also saw the biggest razor mohawk ever - the chick sporting had to duck to get in doorways. Respect.
I threw myself into every pit, and didn't care when my shoe laces snapped, or beer was spilled on me, and launched every one I could into the crowd to surf. I became a dervish of punk rock, and just lost myself in the show. If you were on the floor of this large venue, you were in a pit of some kind, only those who stood in the balcony were spared, and jeered at often. I can't recall being more exhausted and dehydrated at any other show than this one. I've been to a fair share of punk shows, but this one was just punk as fuck. It was violent, loud, and hilarious, a triumvirate of pure awesome.
On a related note, Fat Mike really, really flaps his gob. Somehow, a 10 year old kid got into a 21 and up show. Mike hadn't even started his first song yet, when he likes right at the kid in the front row of packed bodies and tells him "You're gonna be my bitch the whole night." The crowd laughs, and Mike clearly didn't mean any malice to it. At the end of every odd song, he would give the kid sage advice on how to please the ladies, namely the fine art of fisting ("Be sure and cut your fingernails!"), or how to make moves on the womens ("Hefe will show you how to breakdance.") At the end of the show, Mike gave that kid his very nice bass guitar and told him he pretty much had to be a bass player in a punk band, whether he liked it or not. The crowd roared their approval, and I screamed with them.