The Church of Mosh

I am now 3 for 3 in terms of possible Naomi Punk shows in the past 3 days.

Tonight, they opened for Parquet Courts.

It was a great show.

I think one of the best moments was when we entered the concert hall, and Naomi Punk –

had Enya playing as pre-show music. We literally walked in to the sound of Enya’s classic “Orinoco Flow”.

There was the moment when everyone in the crowd was transported back ten years, to scrape the dark, clinging walls of memory to pull out the half-remembered lyrics forever entwined with fairy lights, gauzy dresses and pointy ears.

My beautiful concert buddy was even up for some hard-core interpretive dance, to express the nostalgic joy of our middle-school years. It was wonderful.

 

And all this, before the concert even started!

 

Naomi Punk was delightful. I’m  pretty sure they even managed to not break anything this time around! (Though their lack of broken equipment was made up for by a guitarist from Parquet Courts breaking a string during the first song.)

 

A huge part of what made this night so beautiful, though, was the mosh pit.

I. Love. Mosh pits.

I think I might’ve tried to put it into words before, but I’ll give it another go.

Mosh pits are like religion to me. If you ever wanted to feel like you’ve been hugged by a hundred people, who genuinely just…don’t want anything from you, go to a mosh pit.

Now, maybe I’ve only ever been in really nice/friendly mosh pits, but I sort of have a feeling that a lot of the stories of unfriendly mosh pits might have been started/spread by the bystanders who don’t want to be involved. (Which is totally reasonable. Mosh pit are super not for everyone. I just love them a lot.)

The thing about mosh pits is that it’s almost like….you’re just throwing yourself around, and you know that you’re going to be caught. It’s a hot, sweaty, writhing mess, and you know that if you start to really fall, then someone will grab you, and shove you back into the middle of the mass.

A mosh pit is just…people and heat and motion.

Being in a mosh pit is like….they physical emodiment of trust in humanity.

You can physically be held up by the hands of people you’re never going to see again.

There’s nowhere to really fall, even if you’re falling over, because there are just people everywhere.

I think that’s kind of magical. There are people so close, you can’t even fall.

It’s like an epiphany, and religion, and trust and people and music.

It’s beautiful.

 

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