Mindless teenagers bobbing their heads to a throbbing, pumping noise that is supposed to be music. And it would be music if the four on the stage could keep beat with each other. Of course, they can’t. It would be music if the ‘singer’ stopped screaming and began to sing and stopped swinging the mic around causing feedback. The drumbeat is nice, though. Makes me want to dance.

Of course, I can’t dance because… Well, I was alone. So if I did dance I would have looked like a moron. The collective would have looked at me even more weirdly than they did then. “What is she doing here.” “What is a person like her doing here.” I can see it in the glances they give me as I pass them, coughing from heavy fog of smoke.

“Take a flyer, it’ll help your cough,” says somebody as I pass them. I look up and he starts hitting on me. Great. That’s just wonderful. I go outside to breathe — and end up getting hit on by a scraggly 25 year old with no life but local band music while breathing in a million toxants exhaled by people carring even worse things that I probably don’t want to think about.

I went back in. More head bobbing. I finally get earplugs and suddenly the music sounds decent. Oh whoops, it’s a different band. Oh well, here goes nothing. I sit through all their songs.

Nope, still don’t like it.

There’s a band that played tonight. The lead singer is the younger brother of the lead singer from Incubus. They’re called Vent. They just got signed. Maybe we’ll hear about them one day. Like Papa Roach when they played around here — haha, too bad they were ska before.

Anyhow, back to Vent. I should have probably stayed longer, since I had stayed for the rest of the shows — supposedly this was the piece a piece. However, along with bobbing my head with the masses, I was encumbered by a large amount of yawns. Attacked by a case of them, really. So I headed home.

And here I am. I had a great time.