OFF! / Bad Antics / Gay Kiss @ Europa – 8.22.14 OFF! / Bad Antics / Gay Kiss @ Europa – 8.22.14

Of course, I came into this gig kicking the onset of agoraphobia. Of course, I hadn’t slept the night before on account of some neurospastic head-fracturing incident and whiled the whole goddamn day away in fumes, shards and uptown contempt, jacked up on cold medicine and desperate for a money shot or a nap.

Of course. Of course.

But who cares where I stick my roll, right? (dicks) The scene from the pit on this loving and loverly Friday evening was one of mixed races, ages and sexes all turning cheek to fist in various stages of stupor from the first band to blast off the surling core through the thrash OC threading to the hot pops of PUNK! unfuckwithable and it was such a good, seamless time in the Polish disco it seems a sin to break it apart with analytics so we’ll kill it, quick to get on with the pics (full set way below). Rockit.

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Gay Kiss

Hardcore agitations from Phoenix that slip into the doom ire of the mystery man metal shtick so prized by the CVLT Nation but WAY heavy in their weight and WAY HEAVIER in their presence with their hairless headkick howling and leaping, instigating alligator rolls like some time in an NYC klink would be a step up from the desert. Real fear flight shit. Totally should’ve bought a t-shirt.

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Bad Antics

OC Punks with long hair and all manner of technical prowess like the Descendents of old except I’m still slaving to afford my Suburban Home so I can’t afford to walk a mile in your Airwalks. Sorry, kids. It’s not you. It’s me. You did your damnedest to bust the brow whip but I couldn’t find your hooks and my beers weren’t in English anymore so, no…but yeah? A- for effort, kids.

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I should probably concede that I don’t know fuck all from OFF!’s immense discography because I never quite got with the thrash punk crossover skate melee but I respect the pedigree of the band and love the fuck out of Dale Crover’s drumming so the set was an easy spin of intoxication and bodies, exalted, frowned and chumming. Consummate as fuck punk RAWK! spat out in frenzied chunks, punctuated by Keith Morris’ extrapolations on social injustice, commodification and…um…something else relevant to the day and it was a sweaty, bruising blast from cold soup to deez nuts that made me miss all the easy mistakes I used to make with my friends in the name of cheap vice and joyous rage.

Gay Kiss / Bad Antics / OFF! @ Europa

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