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swarms of the Sycko phanatic.

the COX were good that night, with their set of gothic rock and ethereal gloom-laden trademark sound, and i became a fan even though i was not one to begin with… the night was in observance of friends both new and old, but all in the recent history of my life with my love, we have found friends that seem to relate to more than our fetishes for music and art and philosophy… A-boy was the first to really make a lasting contact with either of us, and we have traveled all over Here to meet with A-boy at these shows that mean so much to all of us… obviously i am the more subdued of the three of us, to the point of appearing like a complete submissive and without fault of my own, but of course this is not the reality at the opposite end of the situation… i have tried to choose my words carefully in most matters when communication is a big deal, but sometimes your mind always has the capacity to lead you astray on another tangent of truth or concept altogether, to confuse and access a very different alignment of facts as food for the digestion of real parts to translate into the fake or imaginary realms implanted for growth like a seed… we spent the previous week in odd anticipation of the event even though it was unconfirmed whether we were to meet the band after the show or not, and it seems that wristbands make the idiots stand out more for their love of gloom-infused darkly poetic music when fellow gathered gothic twats vie for a spot on the coveted ‘meet-and-greet’ line-up, where the lead singer of the group was quoted saying, “…10 minutes. no bullshitting, no stories…” when it got down to a tiny queue of people still there… people seem to enjoy the assholes for their ignorant aptitude to make a statement outside of the consideration of others, totally beyond our idiot prevailing myth of politeness and courtesy that most of us struggle with on a daily basis anyway, and as though they were likened to heroes of a rude and uncompromising nature… the roles of artist and the audience are rather concretely defined but crudely put into execution because of the thrilling potential of role reversal for the more finicky of the individuals, the anticipation and excitement compliment and contrast each other spectacularly, but it is hard to witness this through the real time physical lurch of the passion of others… looking back at the photographs of the night, it is difficult to remember exactly what transpired, but i will recount a little more of my recollections to you now… A-boy was at the venue already when my love and i got there to the gravel parking lot, but we were hassled away for the moment while everyone was still showing up and filling the lot, however we all left to eat slightly perturbed… when we had gotten back, shuffling through the back entrance into the large hall as the music and bodies thumped and swayed all around us, and A-boy went into camera mode soon afterward while my love asked me what poison i would prefer… she moved to the closest bar while i stood and absorbed the enveloping tension that floats through crowds, and i could somehow feel the change as everyone was getting ready backstage… my love returned with drinks in hand, and we both took up residence in that spot clutching each other gently as i danced subtly with a nod of the head or tap of the foot, it was only when they played a particular Portishead song over the house PA that i busted loose… my love was pointing out a new friend from Nawlins who was very close to the stage once the first act hit the floor running, i just worked my way around the room as the band went through their set with a splendid amount of energy, and as the drinks wore on i could feel the music well feeling slightly shamanic as i danced there hair loose… when COX went on stage, it felt as though the blur of the main attraction revealed itself, and this was going to be the only show Here in the whole stateside experience then off to Europe in gossamer and darkness… whether whiny goth prick or grumpy art fag, i am still a fairly vicious critic if i don’t like the music, but going to a show is much different when the band is a group you never heard of at all really… long story short there were souvenirs and autograph swapping involved and the obligatory photo-op, and i felt on display waiting for my picture as the shuffling line of dressed-up assholes shared their stories and opinions with one another, my ears not ringing this time through allowed me to hear various strands of the chit-chat among them all there… which i guess was the reason why the line slowed because the lead COX person blurted the quote seen above, and the chain gang ended soon enough after which we went back to reflecting on the what happened like anyone else, listening to their music with a deeper interest after having briefly met both the main band and the opening group and showed support with buying merchandise… music is the thread Here, i suppose folks, but i cannot be absolutely certain though as always you may take your own interpretation from this interlude of mine… the layers are there for everyone, and maybe i am supposed to take a leaping plunge into the musical format of lifestyle, there are photos that will show me standing among COX with my own apathetic look into the camera… fans might be in my future one day…

Thanks, khet.