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Last week we were in the lead-up to Halloween, and now that’s behind us. I think both the 45 Grave and Misfits cover sets went pretty well. So many people came up to me and said, “you know, I’d never heard of 45 Grave before, but I checked them out and they’re really good!” Since not as many people knew them, the crowd reaction was a little more muted for that set, but I think the band totally nailed all the tricky bits I was worried about. And then after Black Flag (who were pretty good!) came the Misfits set, and people lost their shit. It was so much fun. I don’t think I’d been to a house show in Raleigh in several years, and even though the crowd at this one was totally different from the last one I went to (whenever that was), it still felt like Raleigh… no cool guys, just a bunch of freaks out to have some fun. I hope we can do it again soon.
I had a lot of stress and anxiety leading up to Halloween. Not that I was nervous it wouldn’t go well, but just because I had so much on my plate that I felt really overwhelmed. There was about half a day on Friday when I felt myself decompress when I realized the gig was behind me, but I’ve been pretty much right back into overwhelmed mode with all the stuff going on at Sorry State. I’ll be sticking close to home for the near future, but much of the rest of the staff has time off planned in the coming weeks, so I’ll have a lot of work to cover their duties while they’re gone, and there never seems to be enough time to get my work done in the first place. That’s life, I guess.
Along with the stress of the Halloween show, I was in some negative headspace earlier in October because I read a Henry Rollins book. I heard him on a bunch of podcasts talking about his new book Stay Fanatic Vol 3, and since it sounded like something I’d find interesting, I started reading the first volume in the series. And while there was a lot of information in there I found interesting, I think it pulled me a little too effectively into Hank’s world, which seems very lonely. While I share his passion for punk’s history, the way he approaches it—at least how it comes across in Stay Fanatic—is so solipsistic that it makes me question my own love for music and why I’m so devoted to it. There are so many things that seem interesting about his life, particularly all the traveling he does and all the money he gets to spend on punk records and memorabilia, but reading about it through the texture of his day-to-day experience left me feeling really down. I’m struggling to articulate why it made me feel bad, but it definitely did.
I suppose Rollins’ book popped into my mind because of what I chose as my staff pick this week: the Fall’s very first album, Live at the Witch Trials. Of course, Rollins is a big fan of the Fall. Also, Rollins constantly revisits his favorite records, which is something I don’t do nearly often enough. The Fall are my favorite band, but it had been months since I listened to them. Another thing that made me think of the Rollins book is that he often notes October is his favorite month, and he particularly likes to revisit his favorite records every October. It was actually November 2 when I spun Live at the Witch Trials, but I get the point. While we’ve had a very warm week here in Raleigh, it still feels like fall with the leaves changing and falling and the days getting noticeably shorter (particularly after the time change this weekend). During a colder spell a couple of weeks ago I had to get the fireplace going in my living room, and I felt the pull of winter cosiness. It’ll be here before I know it, and I’ll be sitting there wishing it was over.
Anyway, it’s nice to listen to one of your favorite records during a transitional time like this. While the world is changing around you, your favorite records remind you of who you are. I kind of forgot—or at least lost touch with—how much I love the Fall until I blasted the record. But when I listen to the brilliant closing passage of “Frightened,” the sinister bass line of “Rebellious Jukebox,” the relentless clatter of “No Xmas for John Quays,” and the ethereal poetry of “Live at the Witch Trials,” it hits me somewhere deep. This is what I love. This is who I am.