I’m back at the Soapbox again. Funny enough, known psychological principles continue to be reinforced. All one has to do is act like he/she/they knows what they’re doing, and people will make way.
[mks_pullquote align=“left” width=“280” size=“35” bg_color=”#40345e” txt_color=”#ddbbaf”]“Don’t let him have the microphone… he just screams.”[/mks_pullquote]
“He was here yesterday.”
They don’t like me here. Unsurprisingly, predictable discussions continue to reign. I’m going to scream again as soon as I’m given the opportunity. Then again, I’ve got more microphones in my bag with XLR connectors.…
These people are duplicates of one another, and they aren’t interested in hearing anything outside their perspective.
Then again, I’m just a bitter old man, I guess. I see danger in their lack of imagination. But I’m here — behind the speakers, typing. They seem to be okay with it. I’m not so sure I’m not actually going to be sick — the way they speak is painful. They think these stories are new; they think few people have ever heard ska before.
That discussion led to some self-described “metalheads” taking the stage. They’re talking about how “metal falsetto” tends to “weird people out,” and I cannot help but wonder how metal still thinks it has any counter-cultural energy whatsoever. How has youth fallen to a state of such blindness? Why were we given community, anyway?
I’m starting to think it was better when we were all alone.
Now, a man with a beard is asking if we’d like to discuss “legality vs. morality.”
“I like California things.… is it moral?”
No. Fuck my asshole.
“The biggest enemy of pot is alcohol.”
I interrupted to ask the crowd for booze.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help them, or myself. I’m starting to believe that Extratone should not endeavor to “rediscover relevance,” but to rediscover counterculture. Or perhaps… study repetition.
Though I’ve been promoting so much that “extratone dot com!” can now occasionally be heard from strangers throughout the festival. Today has taught me that I do have comrades, somewhere.
Let’s hope I don’t lose it.