when i moved to scotland from the backwaters of anchorage, alaska at the ripe old age of 16, i almost imploded with delight at the prospect of seeing some of the bands i grew up listening to live. in alaska (as many of my never-ending stories start) the same three bands used to play every saturday night, perhaps with a different running order if they were feeling funky. in the two years i lived there, no major band played an all-ages show. while that meant the pit in most of the shows was completely mental, full of thrashing kids who knew all the words to all the songs, you couldn’t help but yearn for that band you dance to in front of your mirror to play a show.
but there is always a grey cloud accompanying the silver lining, and in my years living in edinburgh, i have had many unfortunate experiences of seeing a great band totally suck live. it doesn’t ruin the band’s music for me, but it slightly unravels the legend woven in my head.
then comes a great band whose live show pummels you. mdc are one of them. being a massive fan of ’80s hardcore, especially bands who live the message they preach, i shat myself when i found out they were playing a small pub in kirkcaldy. my mate nips and i jumped in his nissan micra hairdryer and made the roadtrip from edinburgh to kirkcaldy. using my honed navigation skills (i.e. holding the map the wrong way up until nips pointed out the words were upside down) we rocked up to the path tavern with massive cheesers spread across our face.
mdc were touring with three original members: dave dictor (vocals), ron ponser (guitar), and al schvitz (drums). some guy named mike smith was playing bass, i’m not sure of his relation to the band and who he’s played with before.
a couple of unrememberable bands played, edinburgh’s down to kill did a killer set and then the mandatory ’80s flag was hung up, and mdc assembled on stage…
…and kicked ass. barely pausing between songs, their 45 minute set had them all: john wayne was a nazi, i remember, dick for brains, i hate work, my family is a little wierd…. i danced the whole show and almost passed out, gasping for breath. once one classic ended, the next begun. every song was so tight, the p.a. was loud and the new bassist took the bass for a walk down main street.
at the end, i got a free shirt from dictor as i had been in the pit the whole time. i felt this was fair considering every bared inch of flesh was covered in greasy-metal-dude sweat from rubbing up against people. when i returned to edinburgh, i was still able to wring perspiration out of my shirt.
i’m getting goosebumps just recalling it all. it was perfect. i ended up going down to bolton, england, the next day to catch them again at the all-dayer.
moral of the story: don’t become a cynical bastard. you’ll never have fun.
HEADS UP:
show at bannermans friday 9 may. doors 8pm. certain death, peep show, the dirty pickups. £4 in. it’s a fundraiser for auld reekie roller girls with raffle prizes and a “cookie fest”.
s.x.p.p. all-dayer at carlton studios saturday 10 may. 12:30pm to 3am. loadsa bands with the u.k. subs headlining. £17 in. come get drunk.
DELIBERATION OF THE DAY:
passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. it is not about feeling good. it is about endurance. like patience, passion comes from the same latin root: pati. it does not mean to flow with exuberance. it means to suffer. – mark z. danielewski
TURN IT UP AND TUNE OUT:
only cuz i totally have the taste for them now, but stick on mdc – millions of dead cops/more dead cops. once the bass line of the first version of john wayne was a nazi thuds on, you find you have to listen to it like 15 times.
