Misfits
12/6/10
Masquerade



It was a cold assed day in December; yet a perfect day for a punk show.
It had been awhile since I had seen a good punk show and I was stoked.
I knew that it was going to be a hell of a show, little did I know what I was in store for. After going through the hoopla of getting in, my hands were like ice, I was ready to thaw.

I headed strait for backstage, as to try and get warm. I got a warm reception, but the bitter cold was seeping through the walls of the old building. What a setting for a show, backstage the walls were marked from graffiti; reminded me of the pics I had seen from CBGB's, classic. I was quickly greeted by Lars, the guitarist for the El Caminos, one of the opening bands.

American Lesions were on stage, and I quickly made my way out to hear a couple of their tunes before they exited the stage, they did not do so bad for an opening band. The El Caminos were up next and they were ready to give the home town crowd a warm welcome.

 

The crowd was a bit dismissive to begin with, but the guys soon discovered that they were ready to mosh, as the got into the second song, "Happy Day".

Oh yes, the crowd was rowdy, as I sat on the coveted spot reserved for photogs, a fight broke out behind me, and I quickly got down; only to get back in place and break the fight up.

I grabbed the one girl throwing most of the punches or better yet scratches, and held her face and said, "Listen bitch, you are going to get your fucking ass kicked out if you don't stop it now".

She listened to reason and was quickly taken away by security, where I laughed as she cried and explained herself,
not too punkish of a move.

As I made my way to get a cold PBR, the beer of choice at the venue, I was told to
watch my step, there was vomit on the floor. I could tell by this that the punk
scene had not changed, all was well in the punk world. I escaped to the serenity
of backstage, and introduced myself to the singer/guitar player for Juicehead,
the band next up. He was eager for me to hear them, and I was expecting them
to follow suit, and sound like a knock off of Danzig, boy was I wrong.

They were totally original in their sound. I was pleased to say the least.
They reminded me of the old days at the 688, the punk venue in its day for Atlanta,
where you could always count on a good show. The singer did a great job on his
delivery of the clean cut vocals that were reminiscent of The Dead Milkmen, I loved it.

I soon made my way back stage to nick a water, that was graciously provided by Jerry Only, who insisted on healthy snacks and various juices/water for the bands, no beer. "That damn health fanatic Jerry Only", I heard uttered several times. I strolled on over to the area that was off limits to most that is where The Misfits were, there were a few people back there, but only one band member, Dez Cadena, who was talking football, and promised to root for the local team if they went to the super bowl, nice gesture.

I snagged a couple of pics after introducing myself, and quickly found the drummer. I was sad to see that it was not Marky Ramone, as I was led to believe, but a spunky guy, who was warming up on a chair for the show. "It's fucking freezing here" he told me, gotta get warmed up somehow. Again I grabbed the photo op, and made my way to the front of the stage to get ready for the show.

As I settled in to claim my spot on photo lane, I call it. Soon the sounds of the
guitars warming up got the crowd yelling, "Hey ho, let's go," guess I wasn't the only
one who thought Marky was coming. Before long two guys dressed as the grim reaper
came on stage to take the curtain down to signify the start of the show.
The crowd went wild, and a large mosh pit quickly began.

Us photographers were making our way weaving in and out of each other grabbing the best shots we could, when we all settled down back in our claimed spots. It was not long till the crowd began crowd surfing and landing around us. Before I knew it they were landing on top of me, which was not too bad till I got hit in the head with a steel toe-capped boot, a dick move if I say so myself, what an idiot to wear such gear to only throw their feet around to hit numerous people in the head. The photo opps quickly ended as we were told we had to move for safety purposes; alas I missed the days of the pogo and slam dance. But I grabbed a spot on the side of the stage which was safe and enjoyed the rest of the show.

It was a great show that made me long for the days of years past, but gave me hope
that punk will never die, my darling....

Cyndi