Thursday, April 06, 2006

Pit Stains.

As I said yesterday, my wife and I went down to DC to see Dinosaur Jr at the 9:30 club. It was a really great show, and unlike the Jenny Lewis gig in Towson a few weeks ago we were far from standing out as the oldest people in the crowd. Dinosaur Jr have been rocking since I was in grade school, and it shows. J. Mascis' hair is still long, but now it is gray. Murph's hair is all gone, which could have been by choice, but may be due to age. Lou still sports a full head of dark hair, but it was curly in an almost Sideshow Bob way.

The crowd too was older. More of us were making our way to the upstairs portion of the 9:30, in search of a seat, at least to get through the opening band. There were aging former hip kids, old 80's and 90's new-school hippies and a fair amount of people dragged to the show by them who had no idea who they were seeing. They didn't know that back in '87 Lou, Murph and J. signed on to indie label SST and started to put out new sounding music that lead to the public acceptance of the bands they call the most influential of their youth, like Nirvana.

There was another group on hand at the show, and they too probably didn't know much about Dinosaur Jr's roll in music history, but they knew all about old school Rock 'n Roll histrionics. They were even younger than I was in '87 when DJ came together, shit, I was 11, they may have been one or two. None the less, there they were. Front and center, bouncing off one another like the Lucha Libre of the rock world. These young bucks are the pit dwellers, and they were in rare form last night.

I'll admit it: I have never moshed. Maybe that means I am a poser as a child of the late 80's and early 90's. I never saw the point to it. When music moves me I rock my head and shoulders to the beet, or stomp my foot along. I'm not into putting my shoulder into someone's head, or stomping my foot into the chest of a fallen rocker. I don't think this makes me a pussy, or any less of a music fan, but you may disagree. Even if I had ever moshed, I can tell you that with 54 days till my 30th birthday those days would long have been over.

There they were last night, about 15 abreast across the middle of the stage, and about 10 rows deep. Some were veterans, but most of them were 18 or 20 and just wanted to hit someone while distorted guitar noise split their ears at mind numbing decibel levels. They jumped shoulder to shoulder into one another, and when they wandered out of their circled square they were thrust back in by the 'boarder guards' of the pit. These are the folks who want to be close to the stage, and while they themselves don't want to mosh, they are not above shoving or punching a fellow reveler in the back to keep them at bey. Again, I am not judging, because I wish everyone all the fun and happiness they can find in this world, but I have always wanted someone to give me a really good answer as to what moshing does for them. Maybe it's a fight club thing, but then again I thought that movie sucked it hard. I'm old, what do I know?

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