![]() When a band like Sloppy Seconds or DOA takes the stage, the scene doesn’t matter. Anne archy full#I mean, come on-Anti-Heros, Sloppy Seconds, TSOL, DOA, the Business, the UK Subs-these are good bands, and being put off by whatever hang-up you have with punk being “dead” certainly doesn’t go with a tummy full of liquor. No matter how much I hated the idea of a traveling punk oldies act in 1999, my heart wasn’t in the hating my heart was up on stage while they rocked their ancient asses off. As ridiculous as it seemed to be at this show of dinosaurs old enough to be my alcoholic uncles amidst talk of anachronistic “anarchy” and a scene straight out of 1985, I was stoked. Not that the bands weren’t worth it, but $25 at one time is a hefty bite. ![]() For $25 bucks I’d do some serious scamming too. Yes, you can pound them on the head, tell them the movement is dead, that they don’t matter, that they should be listening to hip-hop, that their outward shows of rebellion are as conformist as fraternity row, that their politics are just an excuse to drink and not have a job, that to carry on what was little more than a brief trend of the late ’70s is not only pathetic but counterproductive to the creation of new music and a stagnant pond on the fertile prairie of 1999 society.Īfter getting my plastic cup confiscated by security, I made it inside and was forced to wait behind the normal number of stragglers claiming to be on the guest list. No matter how many times you’ve wished them away into crappy day jobs, clutching their one good record while cynically publishing countless telephone books of their obituaries, they still come back. Say what you will about punk bands, they’re a hard lot to kill. I had a retarded smile on my face, partly because I was ripped, but mostly because I was going to the Social Chaos Tour 1999. I was already drunk and getting drunker by the minute, thanks to a witches’ brew of generic tequila and Gatorade in a big plastic cup wedged in my hand. ![]() The sun was beating down, blasting deadly radiation on the one inch of my face that wasn’t covered by my cop sunglasses. ![]()
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