Death's Door presents the Bar Years

Back “in the day” when I bounced at night and worked at the music store I had a few adventures and shit. This highlights just a few of em.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

 

HEER'YAOWH, BLACK SUNSHINE

As a bouncer, you tend to keep hidden the overt displays of emotion. On the outside you’re a picture of quiet determination and muscle, poised to throw yourself into the dangerous fray at any given moment. With steely eyes you watch over your small kingdom, ready to deal out a swift justice to those who attempt to match wits with one such as you. In your mind you’re the top gun, the sheriff, and the last of the badass mama jammers. The other bouncers got your back and everyone else is your bitch. But it ain’t cool to show it, that’s for after the show. When you’re sittin back with a cold one counting down the clock. Only then can you grin without malice and let the tension pour out like piss into the trough. Or so it usually goes. It was a sold out show and the band of the night was White Zombie. I’d heard em on the radio and MTV, and that’s about as much as I knew about them. The music seemed diggable and the crowd was pumped something huge about seeing em. As usual all us bouncers got together and worked out our split. Me and one of the more experienced guys would work the pit, while the other guys would walk the floor and control the stage. Can I say real quickly how much I dig a good mosh pit? A lot of people think that mosh pits are violent and all that but I think that’s so far from the truth. I’ve seen kids come into a show all full of the weeks bullshit. They’ve been knocked down by bosses and jobs, the parents have been all over their asses and they’re burnt and frustrated. But a good rock show and mosh pit offers a cleansing of a sort. You can almost see the tension rollin off these kids. I’ve seen em stagger out of a pit, bloody, sweaty and clothing torn, but grinning from ear to ear and hugging everyone in sight. You can’t help but dig it. But don’t get me wrong; to get in the pit you gotta dig the pit. One night the pit was in full effect and this blonde big haired chick got too close. I was standin in the center and I saw her get swept in. She looked like a blonde pinball the way she was getting jerked around, a few seconds later she was ejected out the other end. Her spandex dress and hair was all fucked up, but other then that she was in good shape. It’s no small wonder we compare a good pit to a hurricane. But back to what I was getting too. White Zombie was strain their set and the lights were dropping. Now like I said in the beginning, we try to keep down the unrestrained emotion. But White Zombie got this weird shit going. It started out with this huge white strobe light pulsing on and off.(this was so strange, back in the day I owned a giant strobe light and when I wanted to chill hardcore I’d turn the thing on and lie flat on the floor with my head phones on. I swear that by doing this I’d trip harder then with any drug) This light was accompanied by a single bass drum beatin in time. Now dig this. The more we watched the light the more ramped we got. I don’t know what the deal was, but I was getting all kinds of fucked up. The more I watched the angrier I got. I checked on the other bouncers and they were hopping from foot to foot and shaking like they had the flu. It kept getting louder and brighter and I was starting to jump up and down and as soon as the drummer hit the downbeat the fuckin place broke loose. Muthafuckers started screamin and shit and the pit got to rollin and women were pinching their titties and White Zombie was throwin shit at the crowd (did I say how attractive the bass player was? I think she liked me, but it could have been the sweat in my eyes) and I was in the pit grinning and throwin cats back in when they tried to run out and OH MY GOD were we diggin it. This is when it all comes together, the voices stop for a while and my adrenaline is at it’s peak and for one of the few times I can truly say I’m havin fun. Peace

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Name: Greg Beck
Home: first bar stool to the left, make mine a Beam & coke please!, United States
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