Mm, Warped Tour season. A special time of year for many. A Christmas of sorts to those kids who anticipate it eagerly all year round, counting down the days on their respective calenders, packing sun block and water bottles in preparation, waking up early on their state's date to rush to the tour's new location, and partake in their own festive rituals of summertime punk-rock fun.
Whether it be getting stoned with some friends in the parking lot and crowd surfing to every band even if they don't know who it is. Waiting hours to meet worshipped idols in the burning sun just to get crumpled posters signed and take a flushed pics with cheap digital cameras. Running from stage to stage all day just to see everyone they want to see. Starting circle pits from eleven in the morning to eight at night.
Warped tour is it's own very special type of suicide. You basically pay $40 to run around in the sun for twelve hours, spend even more money on fucking water, lose your friends and spend hours trying to call them, constantly get approached by guys in bands who want to sell you their CDs and merch, get sun burned like a mofo, and watch every other person there walk around with FREE HUGS written somewhere on them.
But it's worth it. To see all these awesome bands just play for people. I got to see Less Than Jake, Anti-Flag, After Midnight Project, NOFX, Gallows, and Bad Religion. Plus, a little part of Flogging Molly and Escape the Fate (though I really wasn't listening to EtF, just waiting for friends).
I'm not even going to fucking talk about the ONE MEASLY SONG I got to hear from the Architects because it took FORFUCKINGEVER to find the motherfuckin' stage. NARG. AND THEY PLAYED AT LIKE, 11:15. I MEAN, WHAT THE HELL.
Also missed out on seeing Aiden and Madina Lake, but I'll recover. Not my fault the times conflicted.
Bouncing Souls weren't even there. Though I will get to see them in August at Webster Hall. Which was, ironically enough, the reason they didn't play the Long Island show. Still, it isn't any less soul crushing.
Never trust those Jersey bands, they'll just end up breaking your heart.
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