School Night Shows

A show in an upstairs bar on a Wednesday night at my age? I knew I was flirting with disaster when I bought the ticket last month, but I really did want to see Leaether Strip and Rhys Fulber. Also, I had bought Ratio Strain’s album earlier in the summer and made it a part of my listening rotation that’s included Tori Amos, Nine Inch Nails and Unwound. So I told my boss I would be working from home on Thursday to save myself a little bit of pain.

It was nice to be at a show in a small bar with about 50 of my best friends rather than in a theater. There was an intimacy that allowed me to be right up front. It was also nice to see a dude in a wheelchair be able to not only enjoy the show but be allowed to make his way to the front get an unobstructed view. I walked in midway through Brood Faye’s set which was a lot of fun, a lot like EBM punk. I love how this new generation of dark music creators honors the past without being strictly nostalgia acts. Like, we have Claus Larsen and Rhys Fulber here. What does the 2020s anxiety-riddled darkness sound like? Ratio Strain kept that going knocking my socks off armed with her Roland SP-404 MKII sampler. It was all out aggression with so much rhythm you couldn’t help but move your ass.

Rhys Fulber brought his hypnotic soundscapes which he’s been exploring this decade in his solo work. You can hear all of the 80s influences from Cabaret Voltaire to even Skinny Puppy, but with his modern production he brings the introspection in. So there I was standing there swaying like an idiot. But what else could I do?

Then Claus came up, and it was full on Leaether Strip nostalgia. “Hate Me”, “Strap Me Down”, “Black Gold”, “Antius”, “Fit for Flogging”, “Japanese Bodies.” We knew these songs. We were singing along to the choruses. We were dancing. The highlight came when he did his cover of Soft Cell’s “Sex Dwarf.” Fuck me. That was fun to lure disco dollies to a life of vice.

Claus mentioned how he never toured the US during his prime in the 90s, and in all honesty I probably wouldn’t have caught him even if he did. That’s why I’m glad that people like him and Front Line Assembly and Ministry and KMFDM and Front 242 (well, not anymore) have been doing the nostalgia circuit giving me a chance to see them. And it’s also great that in some cases like this night, there were newer voices also being heard keeping this darkness that we love alive.

Leaving the bar, the half mile walk back home was very quiet which I guess you could expect for 1 am on an early Thursday morning. Who in their right minds would be out late on a Wednesday night, right? Just me and the homeless folks as the ghosts of the songs I just listened kept ringing in my ear as I avoided the urine streaks on the sidewalk that crept from the walls of the building and into the streets. The eau de Los Angeles scents of stale urine, pot and crack that mixes with the occasional street taco and whatever greasy mess the street trucks are concocting for the late-night degenerates.

Once I got home, the need to get out of my boots and pants finally was fulfilled. Back in the safety of my apartment with my cats and the songs still ringing in my ears — that would go on through Friday — I drank a lot of water, watched some YouTube videos to decompress, took a shower and got to bed by 2. I woke up at 8, had a surprisingly productive day at work before passing out for a nap at 5 pm.

I know I moan about age a lot when I write about going to shows, but I can’t help it. I feel every bit of my 46 years when I’m standing amongst the crowd my feet shouting and me and my lower back stiffening up with each hour I’m standing. I actually did think about taking a Lyft home, but my dignity still overcomes the pain. It’s a fucking 11-minute walk for fuck’s sake. Going to shows is usually a young-person’s activity, and I guess I’m one of those Gen X-ers who still live in a state of arrested adolescence.

But I don’t care too much when I remember that nights like this makes the whole mental torture of thinking about leaving the house worth it.