Your best moshpit story
My moshing days are long past. I’m not at the “drink beer and hang out at the back” stage yet. “Get up front but avoid annoying people” is where I’m at now. But I remember my young and reckless days fondly. Those were in college, which for me was in Texas. They make people bigger in Texas. (High school football is a religion there.) My moshpit action mostly consisted of getting bounced around by people twice my size. I learned the importance of elbows.
My best moshpit story comes not from a metal show, but from a Reverend Horton Heat show. For those unfamiliar with The Reverend, they’re a psychobilly band that’s been around for almost 25 years (holy moly!). They’re probably the band I’ve seen the most in my life. The last time I saw them, which was in San Francisco, the crowd was relatively sedate. It was mostly greasers and their girls sipping overpriced drinks. But back in the day, The Reverend could whip up a crowd something fierce. At times, they were practically a thrash band. I’d put classic Reverend third only to Slayer and Converge in terms of bodily harm potential at shows.
Once I saw The Reverend play, and I was standing up front. They hit their first note. Boom! Everything turned blurry. I looked down and saw my glasses on the ground. I scooped them up before they got trampled. That first note had rocketed some large person straight into my side. Not even Slayer or Converge have de-glasses-ed me. 15 years ago (or thereabouts), and I remember it like it was yesterday. That’s my best moshpit story. Not so violent or glamorous, but definitely memorable. What’s yours?