Dillenger Escape Plan
so me and andy decided to go see dillinger. we were about two hours late and had only 75 cents left after tickets, and i was running on 5 hours of sleep. we got there as planes mistaken for stars was playing. we kinda stayed near the back for that one, and crawled up to midcrowd during during intermission. the bronx then proceeded to take the stage. approx halfway through their set andy goes and joins the pit, while i hang back. being a los angeles based band, their enigmatic singer had much to say about the basketball championships. they were pretty intense, and the guy did have stage prescence, so id say they palyed an impressive set. we moved forwards after their set. while we were waiting, i commented on this DUDES headband. i said it was pretty cool. he then replied ...
"whatever"
now. i was not going to let that slide so i say something to this dude along the lines of, you dont just whatever a complete stranger who takes time out of his time to tell you he enjoys your fashion choices. somewhere in here, he decided im being smart with him or some other such shit. so hes all "lets take it outside" now i didnt want to take it outside, i had no intention of being a dumbass and fight in the streets of detroit when i was already out passed my probationary curfew and didnt need the trouble of a fight anyhow, notwithstanging the fact that i would miss the only band i really came to see.
this guy basically dissapears, cause nobody would join his cause, i didnt see him for the rest of the night.
so dillinger comes on. andy makes the comment that the singer (who is insanely muscular) was the one who got the least excersize on stage, yet dwarfed even the mightyiest of guitarists. not in height, but in sheer mass. so dillenger starts in on their brutal set. the pit forms behind me, and andy does his pitmonkey thing, while i, at the front edge of the pit, twist shout, and dance my chubbly little ass off. depsite not knowing any of the songs, my spidersense like musical reflex ability let me guess the breakdowns to a fairly accurate degree, no matter how recklessly dillinger fucked with tempo. at the mid-end of dillengers set, a bouncer comes and stands basically in the middle of our side of the pit, doing what he can to prevent stagedives and other such crowd fun. i was off in my little spazcore world, trying to do some of my more complex manuevers, such as the air grasp the the dip, but i was prevented by limeted knowhow of the songs paired with the close proximity of the crowd, but brotherhood abounded.
after the show goodness, a exsausted andy and i, paid off some local bums with quarters, went to my car, duct taped it together a little, and chilled to mike doughty on our way to dennys. then, after nightly snack mode (french toast), we came back to brighton.
thus ended a good two hour late, almsot too broke to go to show. it was a good time and im glad i went.
"whatever"
now. i was not going to let that slide so i say something to this dude along the lines of, you dont just whatever a complete stranger who takes time out of his time to tell you he enjoys your fashion choices. somewhere in here, he decided im being smart with him or some other such shit. so hes all "lets take it outside" now i didnt want to take it outside, i had no intention of being a dumbass and fight in the streets of detroit when i was already out passed my probationary curfew and didnt need the trouble of a fight anyhow, notwithstanging the fact that i would miss the only band i really came to see.
this guy basically dissapears, cause nobody would join his cause, i didnt see him for the rest of the night.
so dillinger comes on. andy makes the comment that the singer (who is insanely muscular) was the one who got the least excersize on stage, yet dwarfed even the mightyiest of guitarists. not in height, but in sheer mass. so dillenger starts in on their brutal set. the pit forms behind me, and andy does his pitmonkey thing, while i, at the front edge of the pit, twist shout, and dance my chubbly little ass off. depsite not knowing any of the songs, my spidersense like musical reflex ability let me guess the breakdowns to a fairly accurate degree, no matter how recklessly dillinger fucked with tempo. at the mid-end of dillengers set, a bouncer comes and stands basically in the middle of our side of the pit, doing what he can to prevent stagedives and other such crowd fun. i was off in my little spazcore world, trying to do some of my more complex manuevers, such as the air grasp the the dip, but i was prevented by limeted knowhow of the songs paired with the close proximity of the crowd, but brotherhood abounded.
after the show goodness, a exsausted andy and i, paid off some local bums with quarters, went to my car, duct taped it together a little, and chilled to mike doughty on our way to dennys. then, after nightly snack mode (french toast), we came back to brighton.
thus ended a good two hour late, almsot too broke to go to show. it was a good time and im glad i went.