Exercise

The Damned Things posing while trying not to.

I’ve seen some live music in my day. I’ve sneaked out of the house as a teenager to pile in a car on the way to Minneapolis with a case of beer. Growing up in Sioux Falls in the 90′s, it was a short list of artists who made their way in.

Living in Kansas City, it comes down to which band you want to see, and not just going out of necessity for some sort of live experience. It is a double-edged sword for yours truly, as you can see, I’m old and married. I have a mortgage, school and work obligations. Not to mention I reside in a town in the area which is the least conducive to driving downtown, where most shows take place.

In the rare instance I do venture out, it is for someone or group of someones I have an interest in seeing or already knew about. Tomorrow night, I’ll play the exception.

The Damned Things is a group I had no idea existed until a friend of mine told our group of friends about them. All I knew is there are two guys from Anthrax. In fact, the only guy you probably recognize if you aren’t 20 or younger (you’ll understand in a minute) is Scott Ian. The rest of the band is made up of two guys from the band Every Time I Die (not a huge fan) and the drummer and guitarist from (fuck) Fall Out Boy.

Let me divert my attention for a minute. I hate “emo” music. The aforementioned Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! At The Disco and Dashboard Confessional were bands from a genre I’m happy to say is now dead, if just dormant at the least. I debate internally which was worse. Emo, or Nu Metal?

The album from TDT is not spectacular, which is usually the case with patched together bands, but it is surprisingly solid. I’m a sucker for dueling lead guitars a la Thin Lizzy, so that helped tremendously.

“Ironiclast” (certainly not a fan of the album title) starts strong but sort of fizzles at points behind repeat riffage. But you’ll never hear me complain while heading to a place in town like Westport to catch a band on a Monday. It makes me feel alive a little. Not that I don’t otherwise (a needed disclaimer since my spouse reads this), but it’s hard to recreate the “six guys hopping in a van to see the Beastie Boys in The Cities” type of vibe when you’re 31. This is as close as it gets.

Uprooting when you are 26 to a brand new city was challenging in that the only person I really knew was my soon to be wife at the time. Leaving lifelong friends behind in the city you grew up in is never easy.

Now, I’ve collected some friends I hang out with on occasion. So I suppose it has something to do with it, too. When I first moved down here, I had zero guy friends. For someone who is not completely dependent on his female counterpart, it is a must. You know, male camaraderie. Even if it meant asking one of the guys I’m going with tomorrow night out on a man date. Trust me ladies, it happens.

I’m generally opposed to white people with dreads, but White Zombie rules. Still.

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