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Excerpt from a letter written 9/91
Well, now I can say I've slamdanced. And boy are my feet tired.
Anyhow, The Primus concert was definitely a significant one in my life. Remember MC Monster? One of the opening acts for that Dead Milkmen concert I went to a couple of years back? The band which had criticized those of us at the back of the audience for not dancing to their alleged music? Who had exhorted the slamdancers up at the head of the crowd to go back to our section to make the non-dancers regret their stance by "fucking them up"? MCMonster was the opening band for Primus. Their music has improved some. They still have that really dumb thing where they try to get everyone to kneel down on the floor. So that when they start the next song, everyone can jump up. It didn't work all that well two years ago, and it didn't do much better this time except that the vocalist guy had a more effective spiel to get everyone to kneel. Nonetheless, I didn't kneel this time. I always regret having kneeled before. It wasn't so much that kneeling seemed like a really stupid thing to do, and it wasn't just that they weren't playing the kind of musicI liked. It was grudge pure and simple. I mean, here I was, this very visibly standing person in the midst of all these kneeling people, meeting this guy's gaze head on. And he called out for people to kneel a second time, and though after the first jump various folks had been talking (well, screaming) about what a stupid stunt it had been, everyone kneeled again. And this guy's reason for getting everyone to kneel is that it would be so much fun. I guess maybe he's just easily amused. I don't know.
Eventually they went away and it was time for the next band, Tad. Which was even worse than MC Monster (though perhaps not as bad as MC Mon. two years ago...). The only saving moment of their act was when the enormously (grotesquely, even) overweight bassist did a stage dive. Well, first he sort of faked doing it, stopping himself at the last minute, just to frighten the audience or something. But then people screamed at him to really jump so he really did. And eventually got back on stage. But overall, these guys were very very bad. They had these huge speakers through which they were pumping all this bass, which was probably supposed to effect the audience in all sorts of interesting, industrial ways. But there like wasn't any melody to the music itself. I joined in on one sort of spontaneous audience participation thing. Tad was doing this song where you couldn't pick out any notes, but every eighth beat was a rest. And on that rest, the audience participated. OneTwoThreFoFiveSixSen "You Suck!" OneTwoThreFoFiveSixSen "You Suck!"
Finally, they left. Then it was Primus' turn and the audience exploded. I've thought a lot about slamdancing since that evening. Like how it might be seen as a metaphor for life in our overcrowded, urban society. Or how it's a way of decreasing the overall density of the crowd by increasing its energy. Primus started to play their first song, and everyone around me started to jump up and down. People on their way down would bounce off of other people, caroming into other airbornes and shoving them into yet more. Suddenly I was in the midst of a human rapids which was amazingly not going anywhere. Bryan had been lightly pressed up against a sort of barrier and now found himself crammed in rather firmly. I lost sight of Rob almost immediately. For the first three songs my only thoughts centered on survival, keeping my feet, and getting my glasses into a pocket.
Bryan was eventually manhandled away from his position, presumably by someone envious of his view. Bryan made his way back to an island of calm towards the back of the theatre. There's lots more details which seemed rather significant at the time, because keeping track of them meant I got hurt less. Like I learned to recognize those people who weren't content to go with the flow but liked shoving into people. Or the guy who went around with his eyes closed, elbowing people. But I think if I tried to write all of them down it would just become a meaningless catalog. Anyhow, I don't want to make it sound like it was all bad. I mean, it was an activity that held the attention.
If someone forced me to go to a Verdi performance, I would gladly head over to the slamdancing area, just because I find the music not worth paying attention to. But, all things considered, I don't think I'll be doing a whole lot of slamdancing in the near future. Rob still calls it fun, though. De gustibus...