They met across a crowded Mosh Pit
- or -
When Mini Punks Attack!
- or -
Kissing to Nickelback - a fairytale for modern romantics
**
AUTHOR'S NOTE : this is another of my long, observational brain dumps.
Number 3 or 4 in an occasional series. I was in a bit of an
introspective mood at a gig last night and, several beers down, I was
mooching at the back near the bar, indulging in a bit of people watching
and haphazardly writing paragraphs in my head about them.
9 or so in I gave up, lacking a hook or structure to hang it all off,
and headed into the crowd to mooch around the engineers' desk and sip at
the two cans of beer I had stashed in my pockets.
That was when I saw Them (they deserve the capitalisation). Two star
crossed (star fucker?) lovers. I watched the mating dance. I HAD A HOOK.
An embryonic (void) post was born. But I digress, one should always
start at the beginning with a stories this important. And so start at
the beginning I shall and I can only hope that a mere chronicler like me
does justice to the love that was consumated last night.
Mr Shiels, you may just want to skip to the end. Or to the next post. I
know you hate this rambly shit.
**
THE CAMERA opens on an aerial tracking shot of W1, central London.
[ ZOOM IN ]
At his desk, a young programmer shuts down his laptop, slurps the last,
sugary dregs out a long cold cup of tea and puts on his coat.
[ ZOOM OUT ]
[ ZOOM IN ]
EXTERIOR : On Wardour Street, a pub, the Intrepid Fox, all goth
sensibilities, pasted on posters and tatooed bar staff.
Cut to INTERIOR :The programmer (let's call him, Simon) is perched at
the bar between an aging Rawk! couple and a strangely out of place
accountant type. The door opens and a man walks in. Pleasantries are
exchanged, as are tickets and cash. More booze is bought
SIMON : Pint of Star and a Bassifitsoncheersmate
BARMAN : 5 quid 60 mate.
SIMON passes the Bass to the other man. Who we shall call ADAM. Because
that is his NAME.
More people arrive. They are RAWKERS. They have leather jackets and ride
MOTORCYCLES.
More beer is purchased.
SIMON and ADAM leave
[ ZOOM OUT ]
[ ZOOM IN ]
INTERIOR : The Astoria.
Several more BEERS have been purchased. ADAM is dancing. SIMON is
mooching round the back of the venue nodding thoughtfully in time with
the support band, Backyard Babies, who rock.
He looks round at the various characters nodding similarly but
sufficently out of time with him so that the moochers don't look like
some bizarre choreographed Broadway chorus line.
o/~ I was desperate for a place to put out my cigarette, but I found
love in the nick of time. Now that's something I really don't have o/~
sing the band. In the background.
Let's take stock of our cast of concert goers, shall we.
[ PAN and FOCUS on individual specimens ]
[ SOUND is muted BACKGROUND with rolling monologue from SIMON.
Possibly unmute BACKGROUND for snippets of conversation ]
Aging rawk chick :
same one from the bar earlier. Face looks like it was stretched then
glued back on badly. Blonde roots showing though black hair. Dressed
like Christine Aguilera. In fact, she could be young Ms Aguilera except
she's not yong and she's been processed through some sort of bizarre
hair colour negativizer (word?).
Music Journos (assorted) :
The Men are chubby, wearing faded tshirts from long forgotten or
achingly hip bands, have old cordrouy or leather jackets and shoulder
bags with long forgotten or achingly hip indie record label logos on
them. They are taking NOTES. The Women are *exactly* the same. Except
they wear high necked jumpers or blouses. And glasses. And have bad
haircuts rather than bad shaved heads. They have the air about them that
they will one day be spinsters with a large record collection instead of
cats.
Teeny Sluts:
Pristine makeup and carefully applied glitter patches. Have dog collars,
in pink either on their wrists or round their necks, are either
painfully thin or have humourously large bottoms, often accompanied by
small boys with humourously large trousers and chunky chains or some
sort of sports casual outfit (overdyed jeans, white trainers, polo
shirt, short hair - gelled down, jumper by ellesse, kappa, nike or
umbro. Cap by Nike. Single earring). They are universally loathed by ...
Goff Ch1X0rs:
this particular selection were strangely small. Not just short but
actually shrunk, like Munchkins gone bad. They had too much MAKEUP on and
lots of peircings. In the struggle to look different, they all end
looking the same. This is CONVERGANT EVOLUTION. Or something. There
were no discernable Goff males but the Ch1X0rs seemed to be affiliated
with the ...
**
AUTHOR'S ASIDE :
Is it me or is Goff moving towards Hip Hop? Witness Marilyn Manson's
latest video with its break dancing and low riders. It's pretty hard to
look miserable when you're spinning on your head.
o/~ Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on cider and black o/~
**
Rawkers:
The older the fan club tshirt, the more Respek [tm]. Metallica,
Megadeth et al. are all well represented. It may just be me but they
seem to be getting older. Many have pony tails and/or beer guts. Leather
jackets are this seasons essential accessory. Or, in fact, every season.
Many were probably roadies. Or wanted to be. Ozzy and Lemmy are their
gods.
Misc:
Mostly young, single (presumably, girls aren't that stupid), males with
a variety of hopeful looks (soon to be dashed when the, mostly female,
bar staff laugh at their high pitched requests for "beer please") and
modern band t-shirts. I saw one tragic individual wearing an embrace
t-shirt without a trace of irony. Please give generously ladies and
gentleman, we're setting up a fund for these poor creatures whom the
government wantonly let roam the streets unsupervised.
[ CUT back to SIMON having another can of BEER with ADAM and THE OTHER
PEOPLE FROM THE PUB ]
They start heading into the crowd.
NICKELBACK come on. They are LOUD and RAWK HARD. The lead singer has a
BEARD and an ENDLESS PROCESSION OF GIBSON LES PAULS. One of the songs is
about MARIJUANA and was apparently written whilst on MAGIC MUSHROOMS.
This excites the YOUNGER MEMBERS of the crowd who WHOOP and CHEER. The
song is easily the WORST of the set. Draw your own CONCLUSIONS.
A couple in the group SIMON is standing with start having a loud and
flamboyant argument about ANOTHER WOMAN. This is apparently a recurring
theme. SIMON is embarrassed especially since he is holding the MAN'S
leather JACKET. He necks his beer, hands back the JACKET and, lacking
any other form of ESCAPE he throws himself headlng into the MOSH PIT.
[ FAST CUTS between STEADICAM in the mosh pit, OVERHEAD CRANES of the
mosh pit and CIRCLING DOLLIES a la the shots of the fights in FIGHT
CLUB ]
**
ANOTHER AUTHOR ASIDE :
I've been in quite a few mosh pits and this one was fucking brutal. It
wasn't near the front, it was by the back near the engineers' desk and
was about 3 or 4 meters diameter with only about 6 or 7 people in it.
You didn't so much mosh as pick a point on the other side of the circle
and head for it. I went down twice which I never usually do because I've
got a, eherrm, low center of gravity. I still hurt.
The pit had a various representatives for all the above groups. This
will become important soon.
**
There is only so much that SIMON can take. He heads back to the relative
saftey of the group, safe in the knowledge that the QUARRELLING COUPLE
have gone.
[ MUTE MUSIC ]
He notices one peculiar denizen of the pit - a girl of indeterminate
teenage years, startlingly ugly in an unaccountable way. All the
features were in the right place but it just didn't work. Like a reverse
Chloe Sevigny. Laid Jolie for the kultured people out there.
She had adapted a technique for survival which appears to involve
holding a lit cigarette and flailing wildly with her hands.
One by one the various members of the mosh pit, inexplicably, attempt to
court her. They fail. She is aloof.
SIMON finds this tres amusant.
[ UNMUTE MUSIC ]
The battle in the Mosh Pit continues, one denizen is clearly gaining the
upper hand. He is young and topless with short hair, a bad, generic
celtic style tattoo on his shoulder blades that must have been very
cheap. He has a NIPPLE RING.
SIMON resists the urge to pluck the NIPPLE RING from its NIPPLE causing
much pain even though this would almost certainly be so FUNNY that it
would cause everyone's ARSE TO EXCEEDINGLY FALL OFF.
[ MUTE MUSIC SLIGHTLY ]
They dance closer.
[ A NEW SONG STARTS. IT IS SLOWER ]
Closer.
Very close.
The people round the mosh pit are nowing rapt with attention. They are
aware that this is the START OF SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL.
He leans in closer 'to talk better'. They are touching. His head is
tilted.
[ THE BAND LAUNCHES INTO A FURIOUS FINALE ]
She bounces away and starts moshing. Laughing gayly.
He has lost his chance. He is gutted. We are gutted. There is a
collective sigh. It's like a lsightly more tragic Romeo and Juliet
only with a better soundtrack.
[ THE BAND WALKS OFF STAGE ]
She returns! They talk more.
He lights a Malborough Light for both of them.
The irritating twat next to SIMON is clamouring for the band to come
back. It is OBVIOUS that they will. This is a gig. And the SINGLE hasn't
been played yet.
[ THE BAND RETURN !]
[ THE CROWD GOES FUCKING APESHIT ! ]
They are playing acoustic GUITARS.
The crowd joins in.
o/~ Never made it as a wise man
I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealin'
Tired of livin' like a blind man
I'm sick of sight without a sense of feeling
This is how you remind me
This is how you remind me of what I really am
It's not like you to say sorry, I was waiting on a different story
This time I'm mistaken for handing you a heart worth breaking
I've been wrong, I've been down, been to the bottom of every bottle
These five words in my head scream "are we havin' fun yet?" o/~
THEY are dancing crotch to crotch now. The people watching hold their
breath.
[ THE BAND STOP ! ]
THEY KEEP DANCING!
The people watching cheer under their breath. A love like this can never
be denied.
[ THE BAND PICK UP ELECTRIC GUITARS ]
o/~ Never made it as a wise man ... etc etc o/~
It is fitting that this wistful song about a relationship gone wrong is
the soundtrack a blossoming new start of pure, untainted love unsullied
by the sleave and despair of the world it is birthed into.
[ THE CROWD ARE ALL SINGING ALONG ]
It is like a operatic chorus.
Closer. Closer still. And then ... and then ... and then ...
THEY KISS!
[ AT THAT EXACT MOMENT THE STAGE LIGHTS TURN IT ALL THE WAY TO 11 AND
THEY ARE BATHED IN AN ANGELIC LIGHT COMPLETE WITH HALOS. IT IS A SIGN.
YOU COULDN'T MAKE THIS SHIT UP ]
But, what is this? As the song trails off there is a repeated "No, no,
no" refrain. SHE teases him. THEY are CROTCH to CROTCH. She
alternatively beckons with her finger and the shakes it in time to the
'no'-s. It is heartbreaking, HE is confused. She continues MIMING along
with lyrics. SHE looks SILLY. Like Pans' People but ugly (Butt Ugly?).
The crowd hold their breath again
dot. dot. dot ...
But - It is just A TRIBUTE TO THE MUSIC! She is a TRUE FAN! THEY KISS
AGAIN! A long passionate kiss with tongues and everything and
he gropes her arse which she brushes tenderly away.
[ THE LIGHTS FLAIR AGAIN. REALLY. I'M HONESTLY NOT MAKING THIS UP ]
And this is where I leave our young lovers. Unlike Leonardo and Claire
there were no silly mixups and nobody got poisoned or stabbed or got
dressed up in drag or had a silly scene looking through a fish tank.
It is an affirmation of love, a symbol for our times. Amid everything
that is wrong with this world, war, poverty, the proliferation of
Starbucks, it is a shining ray of hope and inspiration for all those who
witnessed it and I urge you to disseminate this far and wide so that
others may be touched by it. Or touch themselves as the read it.
Whatever. I'm not fussed.
I know with a burning certainty that everyone who I stood with feels the
same way. I am that sure. I've been sure about a lot of things but never
as sure as this.
So I leave you, hopefully a little wet around the eyes (I know I was)
and with a renewed vigour in your step. Thank you for reading this.
[ FADE TO BLACK. ROLL CREDITS ]
[ FADE UP ]
I'm standing on the stairs waiting to get out and he barges past to
catch up with her. He tries to get her number and peck her on the cheek
but she completely blanks him. I laugh so hard I fall over and
everybody stares at me but it was worth it.
[ CUT ]
....
**
EPILOGUE :
Apparently this inspired a friend to write his own take
on modern love. His is slightly more bitter. Possibly.
http://magnus.huckvale.net/2002/valentines/
**
--
: as seen on tv