Drama At The Meteor

As it turned out, last night's gig was in fact open to people of all ages. This resulted in a diverse range of scene denominations being represented in the audience. However, there was not the omnipresent rabble of MySpace users and prominently-fringed emo children that is usually present at all ages shows, in particular those shows that include The Bleeders in their line-up, as I have heard there is a tendency to be the case. As is the feeling I have most often when I attend a gig, I did not go home disappointed last night. All of the bands were impressive in their own rights and a decent atmosphere was produced by the venue, The Meteor, in its decidedly peripheral location in the Hamilton city centre.

I had the privilege of seeing a number of bands that I had in fact been meaning to see for a considerable long time. Eric and I arrived via carpool (or perhaps more appropriately vanpool), courtesy of Scott Penk, near to the end of The Antagonist's set. The Antagonist were the first band of the evening and judging by what I heard of them, it would have been a very worthwhile set to have heard the whole of, despite the fact that the sound system seemed inappropriately quiet. The Cinix followed up as the second act, with an energetic performance that was, however, apparently not without extensive errors (my relatively-untrained-in-hardcore ears did not detect any faults amidst the unrelenting powerchording).

It was interesting to see that someone I knew from my media studies tutorial last semester was the drummer for this band. I was always aware that he was in a band, but I did not realise that it would be one as locally prominent as The Cinix. As was the case with Hanharr and Hayden's birthday gig last weekend, it's surprising just how much seeing someone who one knows, however vaguely, playing in a band can increase one's sense of affinity with the music and the feeling that is being put into it. Taking into account that I had run into this person at gigs in the past, and also that I overheard someone in Penk's van talking about a Disney-themed party that I am aware Jordan attended, one really begins to get the idea that it's a small scene after all.

The highlight of the night was undoubtedly the performance that we were treated to by The Warpath, a band in which Eric's friend Zak now plays one of the two guitars. During The Warpath's blistering set, two fascists -- looking to be aged in their mid twenties, resplendent in National Front gear and who had been hanging around the gig for a significant amount of time, seemingly for the purpose of making a statement -- stood just to the left of the stage, in front of the PA, nodding their heads in overly masculine, subdued approval for the band's artistic output. In a gap between songs, The Warpath's vocalist Dylan Knuckles took it upon himself to decry their presence ("In case you hadn't noticed there are two people who don't belong here"), prompting at least one of the two men to raise his arm in a gesture of pride.

Dylan then carried on to proclaim that "Racism does not belong in this scene" and made a remark to the audience that was something closely along the lines of "If you have any sense I suggest you beat their heads in." The audience gave a light-hearted response, with some laughing and others cheekily "ooh"-ing. The fascists remained staunch. As The Warpath ripped into their next piece, however, a boy began hardcore dancing in the circle. He careered off to the side and lightly knocked into one of the fascists. This was too much of a coincidence for an inherently hateful individual, who had just heard the order issued for him to be beaten up. He grabbed the punk's shirt.

With it being apparent that the boy was possibly about to be beaten up himself, at least twenty people from the audience overcame both of the National Front members en masse, forcing them to the ground before proceeding to pummel them whilst they were down. The huge mob followed the facists out of the doors amidst resounding cheers from the rest of the audience. The Warpath apparently made a significant number of musical errors during the few minutes following on from those events. Dylan apologised for this, explaining that they were "distracted by the goings-on." At the end of The Warpath's otherwise flawless set, he said "Congratulations" to the audience for having not tolerated the allegedly antagonistic presence of fascists.

The Warpath were followed by Cobra Khan, who were excellent and marred only by some questionable mix settings that had been applied by the sound technician, and The Bleeders who of course played the last set of the night. A fanatical audience made it a decidedly uncomfortable experience to be trapped at the front, being forced to meld into the stage by the surging mass of "tuff" kids. Contrary to what it had felt like whilst standing at the front, I found when I moved to the back of the crowd and observed the goings-on that the majority of the crowd was relatively subdued. As a result of this, frequent attempts made by audience members to crowd surf failed miserably. Nonetheless The Bleeders whipped out a brilliant set with certainly the most animated live performance of the night, and a fair amount of new material to boot. A third consecutive Friday night well-spent.