2001-11-14 - 2:08

Capitalism stole my virginity

Tonight's excitement was an appearance by The (International) Noise Conspiracy, who I had been hoping to see live for some time. It turned out to be a great concert that helped to make up for my inability to mosh at the Slayer show.

It was an early show by Babylon's standards, with doors scheduled to open at 7:00. As usual, the doors were late opening, and they were particularly slow about letting people in, so it was 8:45 by the time that Aaron and I made it inside.

The Hive had been slated to open this tour, but they didn't make it. The band that started the night didn't introduce themselves, and I missed their name when TINC thanked them at the end of the night. I can say that they put on a fun show: unpolished, but fairly energetic. If nothing else, their brand of heavy punk had a good beat and you could dance to it.

That brings me to one of the highlights of the concert: the audience was very energetic. For the first band, only a handful of people were actually moshing. Mainly, it was the real punk kids, with the mohawks and whatnot. Most of the audience stepped way back, which provided ample room for the moshers. Ample room is not necessarily condusive to a healthy mosh, but all of the moshers were being very cool. In fact, over the course of the night, I'd say that everyone I saw was very well behaved.

I stayed a bit behind the mosh for most of the opening set, content to just bob my head a bit. Near the end, though, I did start mixing it up with the punkers, which was a blast. I'd say that I went particularly hard for the last song, which gave me a good warm-up for the evening. (I couldn't help but think of Maneesh laughing at me for headbanging at a punk show that we went to last year. Had he been here for this one, he surely would have been laughing again.)

The middle spot on the bill was filled by Leftover Crack. They turned out to have a straight-up punk-ska sound that the crowd loved. Instead of just a few people beboppin' and skattin', they had a significant portion of the audience packed in tight, moshing away. I had a lot of fun holding my own in that mix. I took one bump to the nose, while trying to catch a guy who was falling, but that was it for injuries.

I was amused by how many songs were introduced as being about crack. "Here's a song about smoking crack in the gutter and pissing your pants," "here's a song about doing crack and watching TV," "here's a song about smoking crack and killing cops." I didn't actually pay close enough attention to the lyrics to see if the crack content actually showed up in the songs; but it's a good bit, either way.

Next up was the band that I had come to see: everyone's favourite Swedish Communists, The (International) Noise Conspiracy. I had a mixed reaction to their set, although my overall impression was positive.

My main disappointment was that the previously active crowd was very stationary for the set. TINC has more of a garage rock sound than the punk bands who opened for them, but they still have their pounding moments. Although the audience was very supportive verbally, I would have been happier with a little more action. I also think that the band could have tried to cultivate more of a response. Perhaps if "Smash It Up" had come off as forcefully as I had been hoping, I might have seen slightly more movement.

As for what went right, there is no denying that TINC are very talented and they put on a great show. ("Smash It Up" was the only song that I'd quibble about, and even that mild complaint comes from my very high expectations.) The songs were very well done, the musicianship was tight, and frontman Dennis Lyxz�n was an interesting focal point. As might be expected from the leader of such an overtly political band, he made some points between the songs.

Of course, the songs were what mattered; and both the newer material and the older numbers came across quite strongly. I was most impressed by the night's finish. The final two songs and the encore seemed to be the most enthusiastically received segment of the concert.

Then again, my impression is probably coloured by the fact that, after giving up on getting the punks to hop around more, I spent the end of the night dancing with the girl next to me. Any girl who is singing along to "The Reproduction of Death" at the top of her lungs and matching me jump for jump is okay in my books.

I think she might have been a shade on the older side; and, in any event, she walked over to some guy immediately after the band finished. Ah well. 'Twas still fun.

("Won't you forget about me when I'm gone? Yeah, yeah, yeah!")

So, my second concert in four days turned out to be a blast; and all the moshing and dancing partially atoned for my leg holding me back from the action at the Slayer show. From start to finish, tonight was a great time and a solid work-out, to boot.

J.