The Dickies. 10.8.16. The Cluny.


I took going to gigs seriously as a way to enjoy music and to enjoy the company of others.

But recently it feels like its more of one, less of the other; I’m not always certain what my  motivation is to be at certain gigs. Is it because I like the band? Is it because I’ve promised myself to see a show every week? Or is it because I feel like I have a point to prove to people? Fuck you i’ll go anyway.

Attendance at the Dickies certainly feels more of the later.

Where I can I try to be liberal and understand the opinions of others. But I’m not so sure I ever really get there. I’m not sure I get too far below the surface level of understanding. Not deep down. Not all the way down.

Try as i can, I’m not sure why its okay to change your mind. Or why your word shouldn’t count. I’m not sure why mediocrity is okay and why being seen to not take things too seriously is a good thing.
Not deep down. Not all the way down.

I’m not sure why we lie or spin things, or why words like negotiation and influence are favoured over commitment and intensity. Why some people say one thing and do another. Why even these opinions may come across as being immature or aggressive.
Not deep down. Not all the way down.

So the Dickies play pop punk without their lead singer, and the stand ins nail it for effort and commitment. Sweat drips. Voices crack. People walk of the stage depleted of energy having given all they have.
Punk rock can sometimes feel like my only friend. It always commits. Deep Down. All the way down

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