Punk Rawk Song
Disclaimers- I do not own the following...The title, which comes from an Mxpx song. Quoted lyrics to songs by the following bands that begin my main paragraphs: Nofx, Mxpx, Less Than Jake, Bad Religion, Popdefect, and Propaghandi. The names of the aforementioned bands. The title to the Propaghandi song that's listed. The characters are, on the other hand, original. The name of the band 'Anti-anti' is also my own. Steal the band name and suffer the wrath.
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"Please play this song on the radio." For Adam, the punk music playing onstage was
something to lose himself in. The past few days' memories could be forgotten as he
hurled his body against someone else's in the pit. His dyed red hair flew about as he
shouldered into some hardcore guy's chest. The angst and bullshit of life were forgotten.
Rich was forgotten. The awkward moments, the bloody break-up, and most of all that
beautiful, idealistic boy for whom Adam could die. All of these things could be left
behind when he moshed. Being a straight-edger, it was especially important for Adam to
have something to forget his life with.
"Responsibility, not quite yet." As Adam sang along with the hundreds of other
punks, the block of sweaty bodies shifting in response to every movement, he reflected.
The smell of unshowered armpits, the feeling of some hardcore guy stepping on your foot with his boot, it was all a part of the experience that seperated you from everything else. He belted out the lyrics, getting out his anger from spending the last three years on the street. His heavily religious parents weren't happy with their son's punk tendencies, and apparently they found throwing a fifteen year old out to fend for himself due to his sexuality was acceptable enough. Now, at eighteen, he was a tenth grade educated straight-edge punk with serious issues. Screaming the words "I'm still young, and I want to stay that way," Adam dreamed of screaming in his father's face. The last song in the band's set began fading out and the crowd of people thinned, allowing movement and breathing to be once again possible. Adam found his way backstage, flashed a pass and walked in.
"Just like anyone, he's just like anybody." Adam set up his equipment while
listening to a muffled sounding Less Than Jake from backstage. His band was going on
after the next two sets. "Dammit," Adam screamed as he broke one of his strings.
"Here, I'll fix it for you, man. You just make sure you've got the words to 'Working
Class Oi Boy' down." Looking up, Adam saw a guy with three inch blue spikes for hair
that matched the deep color of his eyes. It was Rich, Adam's ex-boyfriend and the bassist for their band. Rather than resist, as he felt like doing, Adam handed over the instrument. "Fuck, Rich, don't tell me we're gonna play that. We've only been workin' on it for two weeks." There was a quality to Adam's voice that said it wasn't just the song he was pissed off about.
"If you don't think you're ready to play it, we won't play it," Rich said without emotion.
"Then we're not fuckin' playing it." Rich was really bothered that they weren't going to
play it, and normally he would have put up an argument. With the current circumstances, however, Rich was just happy that Adam had agreed to play at all.
"You affect me, you infect me." Rich could see on Adam's face that he was no
longer interested in the music on stage. Bad Religion-the band that was playing at the
moment-had always been one of Adam's favorites. 'Man, I hope this doesn't fuck us up,'
Rich thought to himself. He loved nothing more than playing music and now that he'd
come so far, he couldn't let his relationship with Adam ruin it. Coming out from behind a
curtain on stage, a muscular security guy in a black shirt called to the band, "Anti-Anti,
have to get set up in fifteen. Make sure you're set." The security guard's one crooked eye drew Rich's attention away from the situation with Adam for a moment before he
snapped back. Looking back to where Adam had been, Rich saw only Adam's water
bottle.
"...Bob said no, Bob said we ain't gonna play this show." Bad Religion's cover of
a Popdefect song was being utterly ignored back stage as Rich, the band's drummer Joe, and the security member with the crooked eye looked around for Adam. "How could he do this to me, man? We're supposed to be setting up after this song and he walks out."
"And you're surprised," Joe responded in a questioning tone.
Directly following Joe's comment, Adam walked into the backstage area and picked up
his water bottle."Where were you, man," Rich demanded in an impatient tone.
"I had to take a piss. Fuck, what's with you?" Rich went to respond for a moment before
holding himself back. "C'mon, lets set up."
"Nothing I can say will change your little mind." Adam screamed the
Propaghandi lyrics into the mic as the audience in front of him near drowned him out
with their own noise. The song made him think back to when him and Rich first started
the band. That had been four years ago now and here they were, playing the first song
they'd ever learned-'Homophobes Are Just Pissed That They Can't Get Laid.' Adam had
been playing so long now that he could just glaze over and think about other things as he sang. That night he spent his time thinking about the things that had transpired. This band had been formed on his relationship with Rich, and now that it was over, was it possible for the band to go on? Tonight had been hard enough to deal with-what was it going to be like a month from now? Rich's mind was just as racked with thought. Adam had always been the emotional type and with the conflict between the two of them now, Rich couldn't be too sure about his spot in the band. Joe was the only one of them who was really at the concert, and saying that Joe was there wasn't saying much.
"I never promised you a rose garden." The violent opening chords of a punk cover
had been programmed into his clock as Adam's alarm. His eyes jotted over to the time,
telling him that the alarm was a couple hours too late. Adam slid slowly off the mattress
on the floor and put on a pair of jeans that lay strewn upon his floor. Slowly, groggily,
Adam reached for the door's handle before remembering that it had none and pulling the
door open. Rich turned in his chair as he heard Adam behind him. Adam's voice was
droll from having just woken up. "Anything happen while I was down?"
"Yeah, we turned down an offer from 'Lookout! Records' when 'Virgin' offered to sign
us for two more cents per sale," Rich said in a mocking tone.
"Ya sold out on me, eh," Adam responded jokingly.
"Oh, I almost forgot man, Fred Phelps called to say that he thought you looked cute
onstage last night." This comment blurred the discussion into areas Adam would rather
not go.
"Fuck, Rich, are you sure that wasn't you?"
"No, I've given up my hope in love."
"There's a difference between love and desire to fuck me."
"Yes, fuck you, that's exactly what I was thinking."
"You too, Rich, you too."
Disclaimers- I do not own the following...The title, which comes from an Mxpx song. Quoted lyrics to songs by the following bands that begin my main paragraphs: Nofx, Mxpx, Less Than Jake, Bad Religion, Popdefect, and Propaghandi. The names of the aforementioned bands. The title to the Propaghandi song that's listed. The characters are, on the other hand, original. The name of the band 'Anti-anti' is also my own. Steal the band name and suffer the wrath.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
"Please play this song on the radio." For Adam, the punk music playing onstage was
something to lose himself in. The past few days' memories could be forgotten as he
hurled his body against someone else's in the pit. His dyed red hair flew about as he
shouldered into some hardcore guy's chest. The angst and bullshit of life were forgotten.
Rich was forgotten. The awkward moments, the bloody break-up, and most of all that
beautiful, idealistic boy for whom Adam could die. All of these things could be left
behind when he moshed. Being a straight-edger, it was especially important for Adam to
have something to forget his life with.
"Responsibility, not quite yet." As Adam sang along with the hundreds of other
punks, the block of sweaty bodies shifting in response to every movement, he reflected.
The smell of unshowered armpits, the feeling of some hardcore guy stepping on your foot with his boot, it was all a part of the experience that seperated you from everything else. He belted out the lyrics, getting out his anger from spending the last three years on the street. His heavily religious parents weren't happy with their son's punk tendencies, and apparently they found throwing a fifteen year old out to fend for himself due to his sexuality was acceptable enough. Now, at eighteen, he was a tenth grade educated straight-edge punk with serious issues. Screaming the words "I'm still young, and I want to stay that way," Adam dreamed of screaming in his father's face. The last song in the band's set began fading out and the crowd of people thinned, allowing movement and breathing to be once again possible. Adam found his way backstage, flashed a pass and walked in.
"Just like anyone, he's just like anybody." Adam set up his equipment while
listening to a muffled sounding Less Than Jake from backstage. His band was going on
after the next two sets. "Dammit," Adam screamed as he broke one of his strings.
"Here, I'll fix it for you, man. You just make sure you've got the words to 'Working
Class Oi Boy' down." Looking up, Adam saw a guy with three inch blue spikes for hair
that matched the deep color of his eyes. It was Rich, Adam's ex-boyfriend and the bassist for their band. Rather than resist, as he felt like doing, Adam handed over the instrument. "Fuck, Rich, don't tell me we're gonna play that. We've only been workin' on it for two weeks." There was a quality to Adam's voice that said it wasn't just the song he was pissed off about.
"If you don't think you're ready to play it, we won't play it," Rich said without emotion.
"Then we're not fuckin' playing it." Rich was really bothered that they weren't going to
play it, and normally he would have put up an argument. With the current circumstances, however, Rich was just happy that Adam had agreed to play at all.
"You affect me, you infect me." Rich could see on Adam's face that he was no
longer interested in the music on stage. Bad Religion-the band that was playing at the
moment-had always been one of Adam's favorites. 'Man, I hope this doesn't fuck us up,'
Rich thought to himself. He loved nothing more than playing music and now that he'd
come so far, he couldn't let his relationship with Adam ruin it. Coming out from behind a
curtain on stage, a muscular security guy in a black shirt called to the band, "Anti-Anti,
have to get set up in fifteen. Make sure you're set." The security guard's one crooked eye drew Rich's attention away from the situation with Adam for a moment before he
snapped back. Looking back to where Adam had been, Rich saw only Adam's water
bottle.
"...Bob said no, Bob said we ain't gonna play this show." Bad Religion's cover of
a Popdefect song was being utterly ignored back stage as Rich, the band's drummer Joe, and the security member with the crooked eye looked around for Adam. "How could he do this to me, man? We're supposed to be setting up after this song and he walks out."
"And you're surprised," Joe responded in a questioning tone.
Directly following Joe's comment, Adam walked into the backstage area and picked up
his water bottle."Where were you, man," Rich demanded in an impatient tone.
"I had to take a piss. Fuck, what's with you?" Rich went to respond for a moment before
holding himself back. "C'mon, lets set up."
"Nothing I can say will change your little mind." Adam screamed the
Propaghandi lyrics into the mic as the audience in front of him near drowned him out
with their own noise. The song made him think back to when him and Rich first started
the band. That had been four years ago now and here they were, playing the first song
they'd ever learned-'Homophobes Are Just Pissed That They Can't Get Laid.' Adam had
been playing so long now that he could just glaze over and think about other things as he sang. That night he spent his time thinking about the things that had transpired. This band had been formed on his relationship with Rich, and now that it was over, was it possible for the band to go on? Tonight had been hard enough to deal with-what was it going to be like a month from now? Rich's mind was just as racked with thought. Adam had always been the emotional type and with the conflict between the two of them now, Rich couldn't be too sure about his spot in the band. Joe was the only one of them who was really at the concert, and saying that Joe was there wasn't saying much.
"I never promised you a rose garden." The violent opening chords of a punk cover
had been programmed into his clock as Adam's alarm. His eyes jotted over to the time,
telling him that the alarm was a couple hours too late. Adam slid slowly off the mattress
on the floor and put on a pair of jeans that lay strewn upon his floor. Slowly, groggily,
Adam reached for the door's handle before remembering that it had none and pulling the
door open. Rich turned in his chair as he heard Adam behind him. Adam's voice was
droll from having just woken up. "Anything happen while I was down?"
"Yeah, we turned down an offer from 'Lookout! Records' when 'Virgin' offered to sign
us for two more cents per sale," Rich said in a mocking tone.
"Ya sold out on me, eh," Adam responded jokingly.
"Oh, I almost forgot man, Fred Phelps called to say that he thought you looked cute
onstage last night." This comment blurred the discussion into areas Adam would rather
not go.
"Fuck, Rich, are you sure that wasn't you?"
"No, I've given up my hope in love."
"There's a difference between love and desire to fuck me."
"Yes, fuck you, that's exactly what I was thinking."
"You too, Rich, you too."