Last night at The Nite Owl on 10th Ave SW, my perception of Calgary’s hard music scene was altered, jarred even, from its rusty socket by a foul rush of stank-ass rabidity. What I was expecting to see was another boisterous, rowdy-yet-polite, fresh-laundry-smelling group of hardcore fans for NYC’s Madball. What I witnessed was a drunken group of middle-aged miscreants dressed in the concert outfits they woke up in and hadn’t washed since 2001 when purchased from Value Village. The typical tankied brute was seemingly in the middle of a ‘roid cycle and was so blinded by daily drink and smoke that he couldn’t clearly see what the milf from Milf Street looked like hanging from his arm.
During a brief still moment as the ding of a cymbal faded, a stringy-haired teetotaler in a Slayer shirt shouted, “Slayer!”. The word floated in the air like a red balloon amongst a mass of yellow balloons toward Madball’s frontman, Freddie Cricien. He grabbed it and said “Slayer? Did someone actually just yell Slayer?”. Perplexed, he launched back into the set as though he could cleanse the building through sheer will and voracity. More than once Freddie said “We’ve come to give you a show and that’s what we are going to do.” I understood this to mean he wasn’t very impressed with the venue, the sales, and the riff raff who seemingly only showed up for a drink and a fight and accidentally saw a show.
And fight they did. In all of my years going to metal and hardcore shows I have never seen such lunacy. Sure, the shows are violent and the circle pits resemble Mexican cock-fights but each man picks up his fallen comrade and each is aware enough to watch where his fists are landing. Last night I saw five fights, a girl get punched in the face, another small girl get hammered into a railing and a number of dudes left to struggle to their feet on their own after being knocked to the Nite Owl’s signature flashing light dance floor. Maybe the stickiest non-carpeted venue floor surface I’ve ever walked on, might I add.
The fighting began before Madball took the stage. Edmonton’s E-Town Beatdown actually stopped mid-song to tell the ruffians to stop it. The stage manger for Madball saw the room beginning to boil and asked the security guard in front of me if they could station a few more yellow jackets around the stage. By the last song the middle of the floor had as many Nite Owl security on it as patrons. I overheard one exasperated security guard ask another “What is going on??”. “Well, we are earning our money tonight I guess,” was the answer.
My questions are: Where did these people come from? Why are they at a Madball show in the first place? Shouldn’t they be at a dive-bar in Hicktown having a Guns N Roses night?
I left feeling embarrassed. Is this the best the city can offer? A sub-par room full of street people who have no idea what’s happening around them?
Maybe it’s a sign of how far the genre has dropped in popularity in recent years. Maybe the days of heavy music shows selling out are over. It’s a recession people! Even the bars are having to bus the people under the bridge in for shows! Whatever it takes! Every man for himself! How are we supposed to afford our steroids now Mr. Harper!! AHHHHHHH I’m going to fight someone! Is the Pepsi free? Ok good.
The moral of this story is: Recessions effect all of us. Stock up on canned goods, rice, and friends during this tough time. Love your neighbour (or hate him, who cares), and stay indoors. Most of all, if someone gives you a free ticket for a show, go because maybe you’ll get to fight someone.
Go Do Share 