Girls don't get dressed up for boys, they get dressed for the other girls that are going to be there. I stand in this familiar stance before the full-length mirror in cute scene garb, trying to be critical of this 3rd outfit choice but I know I like what I see. There are a zillion variations on the little black dress and I have mastered them all. My repertoire is seriously fabulous. I laugh at my Nathenisms and grab a bright red sweater before trotting out to my car.
I have the new All Time Low cd in the passengers seat, but I would rather listen to Score 24's latest. What a sick little scene girl I am! The ride to Vibe is like it always is; heartbeatingly grueling but musically perfect. I love your clothes I love you sober! My least favorite part of any show is pulling in and walking up. Your insides are anxious to get settled in, but your outsides must be totally cool. Sunglasses are such a savior at this point. When I walk up today Sam Wore Black, Matt and Anthony In Color, and @ash_veltch are standing apart from the constant young obnoxious scene kids. Any doubt I have is shattered when Matt hollers acknowledgments of my presence. "Hug me damnit!" I feel more comfortable standing around outside this venue than I do in my own kitchen. If outside is the kitchen, downstairs is the living room, and the stage is the bedroom. Obviously.
Our little group fades away and Matt and I are left doing what we do. We trade secrets. It's business really. We figured out a long time ago we could help each other out, and what a beautifully educated friendship this could be. I don't mind that you can never really be sure what's fact and what's fiction from Matt's mouth. What he gives are tips, leads on juicy stories to come. Matt is just one of my (no longer) anonymous insiders. He makes a comment about how long I've known him and we smile on it for a second because it seems odd to realize. Scene time clocks twice as fast as real time. I love Matt similar to the way I love Kevin (which they both would kill me for saying if they ever read this.) It's a love sort of in respect for the past. Something must have happened back then in those early Stereo Skyline days with us- something that makes what's done, just done, and that makes me not so much mind Matt's lies or Kev's absence. Arnold Palmer and a Pack of 27's. Hospital lines.
There are a lot of shitty bands in this world. There are even more mildly decent ones that I just can't get into. We sit, cool kids behind the merch tables on brand new old couches in the recently painted Vibe Lounge and wait smugly for this fucking set to be over. Our postures suggest that we don't want to be bothered and our expressions confirm that we could give a fuck about your existence. I laugh as Matt sings in my ear, pointing out this band's blatant copy of Click 5 melodies. Ashley sarcastically picks on the singer's "sweet moves" and Genna straight up plugs her ears. We're the cool kids behind the merch tables, sitting smugly with Blackberrys and Jac Vanek bracelets to prove we are the It crowd and seriously, don't give a fuck.
Bride takes the stage and I put my notes away, half because I just want to take in every part of this last set and half because Matt, Sam, Mike, and Ant have already asked 3 times each what I'm gonna write tonight. The set starts off with Sean getting gang raped by a group of kids that recognize him from what school he went to. It's a school name I won't mention since he's apparently been trying to keep his alma mater a secret thus far. These are the same group of kids that will be at Sean's beckon command for the rest of the show. If he says clap, there isn't a hand that goes untempoed. If he says dance, there isn't a body that goes unmoshed. If he says keep throwing change, there isn't a nickel that goes unlaunched at the band. Yeah, that happened.
I think of all the things I could write about Sam, as he trashes around in front of a spotlight, illuminated with sweat and sheer energy. Or Mike, who's got the kids reaching out on bended knee for more bass. Yet all I can think of is how I've said before, I wish I could keep them like this. Let them skip all the bad shows and dead crowds, all the times the van is gonna break down and they're gonna run out of money. Let them just have this or better, constantly. I'm happy when the scene boys are happy, and looking at Tibby tonight makes me wonder if I should be happier about all of them being gone for the summer. It's what they want. "I tried I tried my best to keep us alive, but with each mile I drive another piece of us dies." Of course my 11:11 moment is glorious and I can't help but think I'd rather be here and work through a Stereo Skyline show any day.
Afterwards Devin is sarcastically annoyed with me for giving my honest opinion of how they sounded. If you want to be doted on in the Matt sex voice then ask one of the scene sluts at the top of the stairs what they thought, otherwise take what I give you. For the record though, Pray to the Porcelain God was my favorite, Sean is amusing no matter how he sounds, Sam's strokes were eh, okay, Devin gives this scene's most seamless stalls, and Mike... Mike could kick Cal Knapp's scrawny ass any time on the watch.
Outside on the the sidewalk behind the trailer I find myself simultaneously saying goodbye to Bride and writing the last page of the Book. As always I wonder what the next one will hold, and through my fears I hope that it will not out rule nights like this one. I look around and see things have changed; I'm not the girl loading the trailer to earn attention and despite what they may think, I'm not trying to get with anyone in the band. I have no sidekick anymore and in most outfits, I'm cool with that. I know where I belong, now I just have to move with it.
This Book has so many affectations; the chipped corners where it got dropped in the mosh pit, the bubbled back cover where Andre stuck youth medium marked masking tape. The "LOVE" on the front that symbolizes the scene at the time it was written. People recognize this book, I guess it's my job to make sure they recognize the next one too. This last page marks the end of the beginning for me, the personal close to stories that I will be uncovering slowly for you guys as the right rhetoric arises. I think it's appropriate to end the Book with a lyric, but which one? Ahh yes...
"And if you're counting on me to keep my head and heart high, I can't promise results but I can promise to try."
...Ricky.
what's your favorite LI/NYC scene song?
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