Aging gracefully at Cleveland Screaming, or, Zen and the Art of Moshing
Last night (Dec. 10, 2005), my friend Rob (http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=63438600) and I went to a punk concert at the Beachland Ballroom in Cleveland, an event called Cleveland Screaming. One of the bands there was Zero Defex, the former hardcore-punk band of Brad Warner, Zen master and author of Hardcore Zen.
Rob and me aren't real big punk fans-- we're both more metalheads, sharing an interest in System of a Down and Metallica. But we also like Motorhead and each have a dash of punk found in our respective CD collections, so when I invited Rob, he said okay. For my part, I figure that, frankly, it all sounds close enough for a live concert with the dials up to 11, especially when you want to get your mosh on. And while we both kind of fault punk for having a low level of musicianship and originality, well, SOAD has been known to spring some simple, cliche chords too, and anyway, that's not what I want to blabber about tonight.
Getting back on topic: Cleveland Screaming featured local bands, a mixture of both current bands as well as (and this was the really noteworthy part), a few bands that hadn't played together since the '80s, including Zero Defex (they played fourth).
The show had a solid enough opening by a current-generation band, a trio with two females called ... something I don't remember (no, that's not the name, but it would be a good name for a punk band, huh?). They had good attitude--always good to see the ladies rockin' through the glass ceiling/ Then came one of the reunited '80s bands, called the Chrome Kickers.
Now, do a little math here. When these guys in the Chrome Kickers had formed their angry, snotty hardcore punk band in the '80s, we can assume they were roughly in their twenties. In 2005, they were now approximately in their forties. Onto the stage came four chubby, balding guys who each looked like they could be some teenager's dad, and probably were. Who knows what had happened in their lives in the twenty-odd years since they had last kicked chrome together onstage. They're not quite as old as my dad, but close enough. Hard to think of them being hardcore punks.
And wouldn't you know it? They fucking rocked. For a good part of their set, I couldn't stop laughing. Not really at them, but just because it was kind of funny -- these potbellied soccer dads flailing at their instruments and bellowing hearty, snide sing-along choruses -- but also because it made me so goddamn happy. And they really fucking rocked. That bears repeating. If you'd have had your eyes closed, you wouldn't have guessed they were middle-aged.
After a few songs, the Chrome Kickers got off the stage and came back five minutes later with a different drummer, now calling themselves The Plague. This seemed to reflect some lineup and name change undergone in their formative years, but by whatever name, they still rocked.
Anyway, I digress. What made me so happy about these old guys rocking out was basically this: I'm 24 years old right now. I just graduated college, and was SUPREMELY lucky enough to get a great job (ie, one that doesn't make my knees give out). I like my job, sure, but I just feel like I'm getting old and that all the cool things I should have spend my youth doing never got done. I only went to one political protest in my college career (in Columbus, against the SOA), and I sorta wish I'd gone to more. I wish I'd had a drum set in high school. I wish I'd done some of the more harmless Cacophony Society-type shit. I wish I knew what I wish I'd done in more than a vague way.
Rob and me aren't real big punk fans-- we're both more metalheads, sharing an interest in System of a Down and Metallica. But we also like Motorhead and each have a dash of punk found in our respective CD collections, so when I invited Rob, he said okay. For my part, I figure that, frankly, it all sounds close enough for a live concert with the dials up to 11, especially when you want to get your mosh on. And while we both kind of fault punk for having a low level of musicianship and originality, well, SOAD has been known to spring some simple, cliche chords too, and anyway, that's not what I want to blabber about tonight.
Getting back on topic: Cleveland Screaming featured local bands, a mixture of both current bands as well as (and this was the really noteworthy part), a few bands that hadn't played together since the '80s, including Zero Defex (they played fourth).
The show had a solid enough opening by a current-generation band, a trio with two females called ... something I don't remember (no, that's not the name, but it would be a good name for a punk band, huh?). They had good attitude--always good to see the ladies rockin' through the glass ceiling/ Then came one of the reunited '80s bands, called the Chrome Kickers.
Now, do a little math here. When these guys in the Chrome Kickers had formed their angry, snotty hardcore punk band in the '80s, we can assume they were roughly in their twenties. In 2005, they were now approximately in their forties. Onto the stage came four chubby, balding guys who each looked like they could be some teenager's dad, and probably were. Who knows what had happened in their lives in the twenty-odd years since they had last kicked chrome together onstage. They're not quite as old as my dad, but close enough. Hard to think of them being hardcore punks.
And wouldn't you know it? They fucking rocked. For a good part of their set, I couldn't stop laughing. Not really at them, but just because it was kind of funny -- these potbellied soccer dads flailing at their instruments and bellowing hearty, snide sing-along choruses -- but also because it made me so goddamn happy. And they really fucking rocked. That bears repeating. If you'd have had your eyes closed, you wouldn't have guessed they were middle-aged.
After a few songs, the Chrome Kickers got off the stage and came back five minutes later with a different drummer, now calling themselves The Plague. This seemed to reflect some lineup and name change undergone in their formative years, but by whatever name, they still rocked.
Anyway, I digress. What made me so happy about these old guys rocking out was basically this: I'm 24 years old right now. I just graduated college, and was SUPREMELY lucky enough to get a great job (ie, one that doesn't make my knees give out). I like my job, sure, but I just feel like I'm getting old and that all the cool things I should have spend my youth doing never got done. I only went to one political protest in my college career (in Columbus, against the SOA), and I sorta wish I'd gone to more. I wish I'd had a drum set in high school. I wish I'd done some of the more harmless Cacophony Society-type shit. I wish I knew what I wish I'd done in more than a vague way.
I guess the point is, I figure once I hit 30 it'll be more or less illegal for me to do anything really free-your-mind-y. I mean, grownups don't have fun. You ever see anyone over 30 having real fun? I don't just mean occasional social drinking (which I've come to understand can be fun as long as you don't actually get drunk). I mean real fucking antiauthoritarian fun. No, you probably haven't. Everybody over 30 is miserable; that's the rule. And if you try to have any real fun -- or even more than that, if you try to stand up for your unorthodox political beliefs, or even be a bit of a friendly non-conformist -- well, everybody just gets on you for being immature. I mean, having ideals and being unafraid to show personality is a kid thing, right? (as far as ideals: First, the only grownups who are liberal are NPR twits, everybody knows that. Second, even conservatism is looked down upon in politely tepid society, if it's too inspired).
Well, rock is supposed to shake you up, and that night the Chrome Kickers/the Plague showed me that you can actually be cool and non-conformist and fun when you've gotten a bit older. Just because you're out of school and have a job doesn't mean you have to start taking miserable pills (at least not when you're off work). Thanks, guys.
And thanks, too, to Zero Defex. Do not think that I would forget them. Because although this realization about getting old came to me during the Chrome Kickers' set, I should definitely mention that Zero Defex not only hammered this message home, but inspired me in an even greater way.
The main reason -- well, pretty much the whole reason I'd giving up a chance to go skiing in Mansfield that day -- was because I wanted to meet Brad Warner. I realize I've mentioned Warner a couple of times in this blog, and I don't want to seem like a stalker, or, almost as bad, some kind of sycophant. I don't necessarily agree with Warner on everything -- I have a bit more lenient approach toward angry instincts, I often read while I'm eating, and I gave up vegetarianism. But it's pretty much due to his book Hardcore Zen that I really got interested in Buddhism, and even though I cannot in good conscience call myself a Buddhist, learning about Buddhist ideas have radically changed the way I think about things. I cannot go back to how I philosophically organized things before learning about Buddhism, and the changes to my thinking have been a breath of fresh air (no other phrase comes to mind) for my approach to politics, religion, and most importantly, interpersonal relations. And I have Warner to thank for much of this.
Before I went to the concert, I listened to some MP3s of Zero Defex from a link on Warner's blog (see my links page). I wasn't really impressed, so I didn't expect them to be great. But you know what? They were great. To give them their due, they also fucking rocked. Because of my low expectations, I'm pretty sure I don't just think that because of Warner. Hearing them live helped me "get it", I daresay, in a way that wasn't clear for me hearing their MP3s.
See, Zero Defex didn't sound much like the Chrome Kickers/the Plague. The first one-and-a-quarter bands had a really cool hardcore sound that appealed to both Rob and me as metalheads; it was almost like metal, so balls-to-the-wall aggressive. Now Zero Defex was aggressive too; they had energy out the proverbial ying-yang. But they were more ... I guess you could say avant garde.
That sounds like it sucks, I know. And actually, I can see how someone would think it sucks. Rob didn't really think it was all that great; he didn't complain about it, but he did mention that it seemed kind of incoherent -- like I said, Rob told me he prefers vocals to be a bit more distinct and sing-along-able, and I can understand that. (We were both singing along to SOAD's song "Toxicity" on the way home). And I'm sure you could complain about how short some of the songs were. None of them were very long, and a few were so short they were basically absurd -- "Drop the A-Bomb on Me" really is about eighteen seconds long, like Warner's book says. I hadn't understood how a song could possibly be that short.
Anywho, I liked what I heard. It was, as Warner says in his book, "dirt simple" (page 24), but as much as I may be starting to develop in interest in tech metal, the minimalist approach is still cool too. It was just really different and really energetic. You could have moshed to it if you'd had the time to start before it was over.
I really got to give kudos to Zero Defex's vocalist, Jimi Imij -- he really stole the show. Basically think of a hyperactive homeless person with Tourette's. What could be more rock star than that? Plus he's got the coolest stage name ever. It kind of sucked that Tommy Strange, the original guitarist, wasn't there -- Jimi told the crowd that the guy playing guitar was a replacement from another local band they admired, I don't think I caught his name or his band. That guy said he was the young guy there at 38. Oh, and the drummer was awesome too. He fucking stood up through the whole show and wouldn't stop smiling.
I got to talk to Warner after the set. I told him I'd gotten into Buddhism from reading his book (I didn't tell him I don't consider myself a Buddhist, but I don't think labels matter anyway). He said that was cool and he commented on my shirt, which said "I'm a Poser". I told him I was a poser in Buddhism too.
Well, rock is supposed to shake you up, and that night the Chrome Kickers/the Plague showed me that you can actually be cool and non-conformist and fun when you've gotten a bit older. Just because you're out of school and have a job doesn't mean you have to start taking miserable pills (at least not when you're off work). Thanks, guys.
And thanks, too, to Zero Defex. Do not think that I would forget them. Because although this realization about getting old came to me during the Chrome Kickers' set, I should definitely mention that Zero Defex not only hammered this message home, but inspired me in an even greater way.
The main reason -- well, pretty much the whole reason I'd giving up a chance to go skiing in Mansfield that day -- was because I wanted to meet Brad Warner. I realize I've mentioned Warner a couple of times in this blog, and I don't want to seem like a stalker, or, almost as bad, some kind of sycophant. I don't necessarily agree with Warner on everything -- I have a bit more lenient approach toward angry instincts, I often read while I'm eating, and I gave up vegetarianism. But it's pretty much due to his book Hardcore Zen that I really got interested in Buddhism, and even though I cannot in good conscience call myself a Buddhist, learning about Buddhist ideas have radically changed the way I think about things. I cannot go back to how I philosophically organized things before learning about Buddhism, and the changes to my thinking have been a breath of fresh air (no other phrase comes to mind) for my approach to politics, religion, and most importantly, interpersonal relations. And I have Warner to thank for much of this.
Before I went to the concert, I listened to some MP3s of Zero Defex from a link on Warner's blog (see my links page). I wasn't really impressed, so I didn't expect them to be great. But you know what? They were great. To give them their due, they also fucking rocked. Because of my low expectations, I'm pretty sure I don't just think that because of Warner. Hearing them live helped me "get it", I daresay, in a way that wasn't clear for me hearing their MP3s.
See, Zero Defex didn't sound much like the Chrome Kickers/the Plague. The first one-and-a-quarter bands had a really cool hardcore sound that appealed to both Rob and me as metalheads; it was almost like metal, so balls-to-the-wall aggressive. Now Zero Defex was aggressive too; they had energy out the proverbial ying-yang. But they were more ... I guess you could say avant garde.
That sounds like it sucks, I know. And actually, I can see how someone would think it sucks. Rob didn't really think it was all that great; he didn't complain about it, but he did mention that it seemed kind of incoherent -- like I said, Rob told me he prefers vocals to be a bit more distinct and sing-along-able, and I can understand that. (We were both singing along to SOAD's song "Toxicity" on the way home). And I'm sure you could complain about how short some of the songs were. None of them were very long, and a few were so short they were basically absurd -- "Drop the A-Bomb on Me" really is about eighteen seconds long, like Warner's book says. I hadn't understood how a song could possibly be that short.
Anywho, I liked what I heard. It was, as Warner says in his book, "dirt simple" (page 24), but as much as I may be starting to develop in interest in tech metal, the minimalist approach is still cool too. It was just really different and really energetic. You could have moshed to it if you'd had the time to start before it was over.
I really got to give kudos to Zero Defex's vocalist, Jimi Imij -- he really stole the show. Basically think of a hyperactive homeless person with Tourette's. What could be more rock star than that? Plus he's got the coolest stage name ever. It kind of sucked that Tommy Strange, the original guitarist, wasn't there -- Jimi told the crowd that the guy playing guitar was a replacement from another local band they admired, I don't think I caught his name or his band. That guy said he was the young guy there at 38. Oh, and the drummer was awesome too. He fucking stood up through the whole show and wouldn't stop smiling.
I got to talk to Warner after the set. I told him I'd gotten into Buddhism from reading his book (I didn't tell him I don't consider myself a Buddhist, but I don't think labels matter anyway). He said that was cool and he commented on my shirt, which said "I'm a Poser". I told him I was a poser in Buddhism too.
posted by jlhart7 at 11:32 AM
3 Comments:
He he, that's an interesting post.
I like the sound of your T-shirt too :-)
ha ha... I enjoyed reading that post... but, I was there, I played in two of the bands that night (none that you mentioned) I know all those guys from "back in the day", and I have to play a little defense- first, chrome kickers are actually a *current* band, not a reunited one. the plague set *was* a reunion. it was the same guys and it was the same drummer as the 'kickers, too... 'cept he wasn't originally in the plague. nor was the kickers bassist.
second, none of the guys in the chrome kickers are balding! come on, give us old guys a break! paunchy, hell yes- but not bald! ha ha ha!
anyway, glad you were there and liked the energy a bunch of us codgers can still put out. and I hope you talked with brad. I've known him since '82 and he's a great person.
Hey, it looked like a different drummer to me! I could've sworn it was a different guy -- did he have a wig on? No matter.
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