We all have those defining, earth shattering moments that change us permanently; something that sticks with us indefinitely, that story you tell over and over again when the time is right and even when it’s not so right... The birth of a child, surviving a tornado, skydiving, etc. For me, as you can probably tell, the stories I tell over and over again are usually about “the first time I saw ____ play live”. Here is one such story…
Many years ago, when the planets aligned and the moon was in the seventh house, my friends Bart, Josh P. and I decided to hit (old) King’s and see a show. Bart had seen this particular band before and was utterly convinced my mind would be blown to bits by their performance. He described a madman, a ringleader from outer space, a rock god irresistible to mere earth women. I couldn’t resist. We shot off to McDowell Street and paid our, what $4? and blasted off on the mothership to Planet Superrock with Valient Thorr. What then proceeded was the most intense, sweaty, feral, and licentious rock show I had seen to date. This was approximately…. 2003? Pre-jean jackets and mega-beards. Oh yes, there were jackets and beards, but there was a jim Morrison-esque super-fringed leather jacket worn by Valient himself.
The legend surrounding this show has grown beyond rational recollection. Every time Bart and I talk about it, the fringe on the jacket gets longer. The stories get wilder; women paying to drink Valient’s sweat... Did you hear he charged through the crowd and knocked people over like bowling pins? Did you know there was a brawl during “Tough Customer?” I heard the mayor showed up.... all kinds of blown-out-of-proportion insanity. Who knows if these memories were real or were just scarred into our membranes by the magical rock powers of the Thorrs? Either way, it was a show that went down in history and is implanted in my memory banks as one of the best first shows I ever saw of a band. It then became my intention to see them play live every chance I got from then on. I’ve pretty much done that.
Last year, on Hopscotch Eve, King’s threw a party with VT that resulted in one of the wildest, drunkest throwdowns of my life. That was the last time I got to see them before this past weekend, their 10 year anniversary party. Now, I’m not one of those hardcore metal kids that have tattooed the band all over me or driven across the country to see them. Nor am I hard rock connoisseur, I likes what I like, and there are many pieces to the puzzle of Valient Thorr that result in my eternal faithfulness and fandom: These are local boys, These are good people, I have a long lasting relationship with them, They are amazing and incredibly professional, the mystery/mystique/legend of the band is brilliant, they NEVER fail to destroy the crowd and melt faces when they play and it is virtually impossible to walk out of a VT show without being a major fan and having a story to tell afterward.
This Saturday was a little different for me… I was fighting a shitty cold that had suddenly decided to settle over my sinuses and clog my pathetic ears even worse than they already are. The majority of my show-going friends were either out of town or indisposed, so I went completely alone without any knowledge or assumptions that I would have anyone to hang with and couldn’t care less. Shows like this sometimes turn out to be the best shows because you meet new friends, obvs. As it turns out, my good buddy PBR was there to help me forget about my ear pain and then help me spot some peers lingering in the peripherals.
It’s just not a VT show without Michele. She was with me Pre-Scotch last year, (we even closed the weekend down together, face first in a plate of cheese fires at the times at 3am, bless her) and it was only fitting we throw down together, it has now become a tradition.
Static minds; amazing. Dynamite brothers, whom I had never seen before, rocked ass. But after a brief stint outside, bragging about meeting Steve-o (still chuffed ‘bout that, btw,) I ran back upstairs to the show, just counting down for takeoff. In my frenzied excitement, I bypassed probably everyone I could possibly have known and made a snap decision which would change my life forever; I decided I MUST BE IN THE PIT... THE TIME HATH COME.
And there it was, suddenly, I knew what I had suppressed all along; I was a Valient Thorr Superfan; a Thorrior. I felt the change, it was like a little rumble in my belly and a tingle in my temples and I knew it was a long time coming. I had to celebrate and wiggle my fingers, begging for more guitar, and stomp around and get bruised; worshiping at the altar of the mighty Thorr. That was why the story stuck with me for so long and that was why I was so thrilled to be a part of the music video for "Sleeper Awakes" last weekend and that’s why I have so voraciously flirted with the members of the band whenever possible (one in particular, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE,) because I love them. I am proud of them. I am a part of them.
There is no questing for the one superfan at a Valient Thorr show. If you are within 25 feet of the stage, you are a superfan. If your arms are up and your throat is hoarse and your toes are throbbing and you can feel the bruises before the end of the third song, you are a Thorrior. You don’t have to know dates and facts and song lyrics, you just have to have the passion. I stuck it out; I made it all the way against the stage and didn’t wind up with too many bruises or covered in too much beer. One vital lesson was definitely learned this evening: no 3 inch heels in a mosh pit, ladies. Next time I attempt such inanity, I will find, buy and wear some sort of steel toed boot option.
I look at other people’s pictures from this show and I see that I am, as it would appear, the only girl up front. Therefore I pose this theory to you all: I Am Awesome. (Or completely stupid.) Either way, I feel like I survived the running of the bulls or something. This was my skydiving. I will say, there was a group of about 3 guys surrounding me that kept me safe. At any point, I could feel a protective arm around me when a boot went past my head or the surge of the crowd got a little too rough. Who would have known the Thorriors would be such gentlemen? Well done, sirs!
This was a highly energized, highly intensified, highly perfected show. The crowd was ballistic, the sound was impeccable, the band was on point and the energy was through the roof. It is probably going to get a special, spectral reserve seat in my memory banks.
I might tell my grandkids about this one. Fuck ‘em if they don’t understand.
Yeah, I just told my unborn grandchildren to fuck off. That’s how a Thorrior rolls!
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