Lately, I've...wait, let me start again. Last year, I...what the hell am I trying to say here? So, it all started when I bought these tickets to this festival on a beach in Pensacola to see this one particular band that I (we) thought we would apparently never get to see live again in our lifetime. I mean, why else would we drive 6 + hours on a work day, on a school day to spend the night only to get up to sit all damn day on a hot sandy ass beach in the middle of October? You might have heard of the band, 30 Seconds To Mars? Uh huh, I thought so. And if not, you should check em out. And if you have, and you don't like them, well, whatever. So, that's how this all started. Now that you are filled in on the backstory, lemme get to the point here. This festival had a 3 day lineup filled with all sorts of bands, 90% of which I'd never heard of. I'd be hard pressed to name some of them for you now, but I'll give it a shot...hmmm...nope...wait, Michael Franti and Spearhead? Does that sound right? Maybe. Also on the bill, Bush (I know, right? What the fuckin hell?), 311, and Stone Temple Pilots. Okay. Whatever. That's nice. That's swell. Like I mentioned earlier, we didn't care about anyone but 30STM. Except...one night, while trying to get all hyped up for this festival, I decided to check out other bands. I mean, what could it hurt? I might actually like one or two of them actually. Enter---BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB. My life has been forever changed. And to understand how my life has been forever changed, you just need to know that I refuse to remember how my life was before I was turned on to the music of Robert Been and Peter Hayes. How did I managed to miss this band that has been around since the beginning of the damn decade? Anyhow, all of that doesn't matter for shit now because this band's music has become such a huge part of my life that I don't know if I could breathe without it. And if I could (and yes I know I could, really) I don't think I would want to. Ever.
Did I tell you that we went on to see BRMC live that Saturday? An hour long set of a band that was too fucking cool for the daylight, let alone a beach, let alone flying beachballs. I rocked my face off. Stood up on the metal barricades trying just to be a few inches taller so I could see over the VIPs. Trying not to be that chick that would scream "woooooohooooo eeeeeeeeeeeehh yeahhhh wooooo" after every song, but I was hopelessly hopeless and was so much that chick that I had to bite my knuckles just to keep my mouth shut. I remember, there was this lady behind and to the side of us that watched (with her eyes closed) the whole BRMC set with a drink in one hand and her other arm skyward just kind of swinging, swaying there, if you will. Back then, on that day, I thought she was too drunk for 3 in the afternoon, for a hot sandy ass beach, for a crowd that was only gonna get bigger. But now, I completely understand.
BRMC is a way of life. BRMC is an addiction, an affliction. BRMC is a family, and a moving experience. The only people who understand the way BRMC can move you are the people who are moved by BRMC.
Who knows when I'll get to see them again....might be next month or next year, but I know, that when I do, I'll close my eyes, raise my hands to sky, and sway. That is, when I'm not being that crazy knuckle-biter screamer dreamer that I am.
p.s. We hung in to see 30STM on that night, but the beach defeated us. The crowd won. The VIPs won. We barely made it out with just our flipflops and our lives, but that's okay. If we'd just been a little more patient or a little more psychic, we would have known that come January we would get to see that band again in Atlanta at the comfy confines of The Tabernacle. But....if we would have known that we probably would have skipped out on DeSucka Fest and missed ever discovering BRMC, and I'm not even gonna think about that, because I can't. I don't remember anything before BRMC, and that's just the way it should be.
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