20 Years Later

• August 17, 2015
• Music

 

I’ll tell you what’s really strange,  seeing a band play live 2 decades after seeing them the first time.  I’m sure many Rolling Stones fans have had this experience.  Boston/Journey/Chicago fans.  Huey Lewis and the News who is playing with Jimmy Buffet next week fans.  Even Up With People  (Yes,  I saw them in 6th grade and to this day still catch myself humming their signature tune from time to time mostly when I’m nervous).

There are plenty-o-acts still around 20,  30,  and even a few 50-years later.  A testament to the staying power of music in a person’s soul once they begin to make it.  And in some cases,  a testament to a good plastic surgeon.

 

 

July 1995

The first time I saw Pennywise,  a punk-band from Hermosa Beach, California,  was 20-years ago this summer.  I spent the greater part of my high school years singing along to their testosterone fueled guitar/mob-vocal anthems in my Toyota pick-up truck to the confused  (and probably concerned)  cattle grazing along the Midwest roads of my youth.  Moo to you too.  Pennywise never milked cows.  They surfed and played guitars and stuff.

Songs  “Unknown Road,”  “Living for Today,” “Time to Burn,” and “Bro Hymn,” were in regular rotation in my brain and often I’d write their lyrics to give the appearance of vigorous note-taking in class.  I would look up in between verse and chorus to give a furled brow look of concentration,  perhaps tilt my head in interest,  and then resume perfecting their logo.  Unfortunately this didn’t prove helpful on the SAT.

 

 

When I saw they were playing live within driving distance I could barely contain my Whoa Whao Whaos and Ya Ya Yas.  This was happening.  I was going to see this band who only existed in my Blapunkt truck stereo speakers.  Some friends and I drove from Beloit, Wisconsin to Milwaukee’s The Rave to see these four guys from Cali deliver the goods.

They did not disappoint.

The place was packed.  Electrified.  From the first power chord the floor surged forward.  People everywhere jumping,  moshing,  singing along pump-fisted.  Everything was in motion.  We watched the scene unfold from the balcony and braved our way to the floor where an event took place so profound I would for many years consider it the highlight of my life.  (It may very well still be in the top 5)

Sometimes you’re given a small window of opportunity and you have to act fast or forever live in wonder of what could’ve been.  This was never so true as I stood on the outskirts of a human spin cycle and my friend Jerod yells, “Wanna go up?”

Translation: Do you want to be heaved forward and crowd surf?

As Jason Thirsk’s bass line for “Bro Hymn” began,  their signature closing song,  I had no time to ponder the ramifications.  Probably employing the same hand clasped climb maneuver we learned to help our partner reach the ropes in gym class,  I was up and on the hands of strangers,  surfing on my back from person to person.  The wave took me within inches of the stage and I saw it:  the small window of opportunity calling me forth.  A tiny gap between yellow shirt security guards,  the gatekeepers between band and beast.  It was just wide enough for my skinny teenage physique to cross the threshold.

You know that rare moment right before you know something awesome is going to happen and there’s nothing you can do to stop it?  This was that moment.

I grabbed the side,  pulled onto the platform,  and found myself standing right by lead-singer Jim Lindberg.  He pointed at me with approval while I ran around the band then launched back into the crowd at heights beyond my capacity sans adrenaline. The long descent happened in slow motion.  I caught the eyes of the dude I was diving toward.  It was a look of terror.  Of angst.  A scowl of one plotting revenge.  And wrath he did avenge.  For when I landed on him and his supporting cast of slam-dancers,  he grabbed my nuts and squeezed like an angry squirrel.  I saw it happen; I felt nothing.  The previous 20-seconds provided the anesthesia for such a dastardly deed to be pain-free.  I definitely felt it on the drive home and for hours after.  A small price to pay for taking the leap of faith.

I learned another important lesson that fateful night: for every life victory there’s a painful twist.

 

 

August 2015

As soon as I saw they were playing in Honolulu I had tickets.  I must have blanked out because I don’t remember buying them.  Some bands will always stay with you no matter how you change or your music tastes evolve over the years.  For me Pennywise is one of those bands.

I’ve always been drawn to their speed demon tempo and motivational lyrics.  

I have a vision of many things to come
A way to erase mistakes that have previously been done
And a time where man meets man without a glare but with a smile
Stop brooding on old things taste new ones for a while
Until we try how will we know?
How will we know until we try?
So let’s say we give it a go
To find the world that we’re looking for

It’s good workout music,  no doubt.  They’ve accompanied me on many jogs.  Nothing screams punk rock more than a man on a treadmill.  If this doesn’t get you up and running nothing will:

 

 

Knowing about my faith in God someone “informed” me that Pennywise is not a Christian band.  As if when you become a Christian you lock yourself in a one-room church house and only listen to flute renditions of old hymns.  Maybe some do,  and for those people I hope the church has air-conditioning.

They’re also lyrically quite verbal about their distaste for organized religion and point out some of the corruption found within.  When I was a kid I may have blindly agreed with anything that was set to a catchy beat.  Now I find myself both agreeing with and in contrast to some of what they stand for.  And you know what,  that’s ok.  I get nervous when I spend too much time in a room with people who all agree.  I enjoy hearing different perspectives.  It both challenges and sharpens my own.  Just maybe my theology will challenge and sharpen someone else’s.  Maybe not,  but at least we’re in the same room.  At the end of the day if we can all pump our fist and sing a chorus together despite our differences,  well then here’s my fist and my whoa whoa whoas.

After two local openers,  Old Habits Die Hard and The Numbskulls rocked the growing crowd,  Pennywise took stage.  They played with as much if not more energy then they did 20 years ago.  Without a hint of languor,  they exuded the enthusiasm of a young band unleashed from their hometown on tour.  It’s pretty incredible considering they’ve experienced their share of hardship and turmoil over the years.  In 1996 founding member and bass player Jason Thirsk died tragically of suicide.  In 2010 singer Jim Lindberg left the band for three years while the rest continued on with a different singer.  Perhaps Jim’s return and the release of an album of early material called “Yesterdays” gave the band new life.  They definitely played like they were revitalized and ready to rock for decades to come.

I had no illusions of repeating my infamous stage dive.  Some memories…and some body parts…you have to keep intact.  I wouldn’t have been the oldest person in the mosh pit.  It warmed my heart to see a few grey-haired guys spinning around and singing along.  It’s safe to say some of their fan base have tracked with them through the years.

To say I’ve changed over the past 20 years is an understatement.  From Midwest teenage kid struggling with geometry to married adult living in Honolulu,  I can’t think of an aspect of my life that hasn’t changed.  That’s why it’s cool to have things that remain much the same.  The similarities to the show 20 years ago far outwiegh the differences, the differences of course revolving around people watching the show through screens.  Back then I wouldn’t have gotten far carrying a Samsung cordless phone and trying to take pictures with a pager.

Similarities:

• Old guy bathroom attendant. Could have been the same guy. God bless’em.
• Overpriced drinks.
• Merch table.
• Packed room.
• Pennywise playing “Stand By Me” cover and closing with song “Bro-Hymn.”
• Face rocked off (In a good way).

I hope I do see them in another 20-years. They’ll be 70 and if they can rock like they did last week with the same raw vitality it’ll be worth spending my retirement income on,  even if I have to sell my old iPhone 25.

 

Cheers,

A

• BAMP
• crowd surf
• Hawaii
• Honolulu
• Milwaukee
• Music
• Pennywise
• punk
• squirrel
• Stage Dive
• The Rave
• The Rebuplik
• Up With People
• walnuts