Sweaty Manhood

Last night, my friend Charissa and I caught the Tooth & Nail Tour at the Metro in Chicago. The standouts were of course the co-headliners Anberlin and Emery, but newcomer The Classic Crime was a pleasant surprise. Anberlin is much heavier live than on their albums--which Charissa and I agree is a good thing. They rocked--and had a great presence thanks to the lead singer's out of control hair and a fantastic light show. To me, they stole the show. It was one of those great sing-along rock events.

What Emery brought to the table was lots of screaming and a keyboardist who did not play the keyboard--but instead alternately did funky mime dances and beat himself upon the keyboard stands repeatedly and aggressively. He also screamed a lot. I maintain that not just anyone can scream in rock--but it takes a special voice and this guy had it. Well done, Dancing Pseudo-Keyboarder Guy. Well done.

The Classic Crime had a great sound, stage presence and most importantly, back flips. I am considering writing a thesis paper on the importance of gymnastics to good rock. That theory is still in development. But in the meantime, I will say the concert was good times and my ears are still buzzing.

One thing that defined the night was the energy, aggression, and well, stupidity, of being young. By the end of Emery, most of the floor had become a massive revovling and pulsating punk dance circle. Guys were throwing their bodies at each, pushing one another into crowds, dancing and shaking violently and being knocked to the ground. It was a classic punk rawk scene. But with a slight difference. Because a good portion of the crowd seemed to be Christian kids, the moshing would be followed by hugging and congratulations on good moves and hits.

Now, maybe I've read too much Eldridge but as I watched this last night, I for the first time saw this common concert scene as not just a dumb youth aggression thing--but as a desperate attempt to return to manhood. These guys had their shirts off, were beating their own bodies, were yelling and screaming. They were showing their vitality and energy. They were being aggressive and primal. They were letting the beats move them and control them. I felt like I was watching some ancient tribal ritual.

And as much as I tried to stop her, yes, it was Charissa who started it all.

Added note: If you go to that Anberlin link above, watch that statue head. Dang, that is freaky. Yet, I cannot avert my eyes...