Earlier today I got into a conversation with 
Back in the summer of 1990, I was fully into the Industrial scene in Chicago, which just so happens to be the birthplace of Industrial music. Later that summer my favorite band, The Revolting Cocks would be a playing a show in Chicago. So of course my friends and I waited outside Carson Pirie Scott department store early on Saturday morning to ensure we could land some tickets. For you young people out there, that is how you used to get concert tickets. there was no waiting in an online queue. Back then, "online" meant you misspelled "in line". You waited outside the door for some hungover 20 year old to unlock it so you could walk single file past the perfume department, through the purses, past the shoe department until you got to the customer service desk that doubled as a Ticketmaster outlet. Then you paid this stuff called "cash" in exchange for these flimsy cardboard rectangles called "tickets". Then you went back home and went to sleep.
The show was at a smaller venue called the Riviera Theater (smaller than the Chicago Stadium) or simply "The Riv". It is a general admission venue so as long as you got there early enough, you could get as close to the stage as you wanted... as long as you were willing to endure the pit. We not only endure the pit, we owned it. Or more precisely, my 6'5" 250 pound football playing best friend owned it and let my 5'8" 140lbs string bean of a body crash on his couch in the pit. Either way, during both opening bands we were in the pit and having the time of our lives. By the time the Revolting Cocks took the stage we were already drench in sweat. Notice I did not say my sweat. Some was mine I'm sure. But it wasn't all mine... yuck.
As the Revolting Cocks started performing, the pit grew larger and the crowd pushed forward. Satisfied with the amount of slamming I had already done, I decided to get as close to the stage as possible. This meant there were only 2 rows of people between me and the stage. it was awesome! I could practically smell the band... except it reeked in there of sweat and weed so that is all I smelled. And who would want to smell the band anyway? Never mind.
As the band played and the crowd got crazier and pushed more, I began to notice a strange phenomenon. I was being crushed. Even though I was skinny, I was pretty wiry and strong so I was able to brace myself against the people in front of me and push back those behind me every few seconds so I could catch a breath. This went on for about an hour. The show was incredible. Due to all of the pushing and bracing and fighting for position, the entire floor had become the biggest pit I'd ever seen. It was incredible ... until I realized I needed to breath.
The music was loud and awesome! The crowd was enthralled and raging. And I was getting ready to pass out. It was now about 150 degrees in the pit. I kept cocking my head (pun intended) in order to grab some of the cooler air above me. But I was also short so I had to get up on my tiptoes to accomplish this. And then, at one point, I noticed I was no longer on my toes. I was just flat out suspended in the air. I was crushed between two walls of people to the point where I could fully lift both my feet off the ground and hover there pinned between the masses of humanity.
After noting how fucking awesome that was for a moment while I enjoyed Attack Ships on Fire, I realized I no longer had any way to create space so I could take a breath. Luckily I started seeing other idiots being pulled out of the crowd by the bouncers. Normally, the last thing you want is to get the bouncer's attention. They might tell you to stop slamming or just kick you in the face. But that night, I was never happier to see them. After giving it one last try to catch my breath, I had to wave them in for the save. A couple of them pulled me on to the stage and pushed me to run to the wings. perhaps it was my releif to be alive but i didn't pause on the stage to enjoy the view. But it was still awesome.
I watched the rest of the show from the very back where it was far cooler and safer. But that doesn't mean I was done slamming. Smaller pits formed in the back and I had the best of both worlds. I will never forget that show as long as I live.
