I like that they left the disco ball hanging in the Media Club for these final shows. It's a sad but sparkling reminder of the celebrations that filled the room. When we played "For Ronnie" and Ronnie himself was floating above the crowd, inches from that D-ball, the beams of light bounced from his blond muff, and I felt a thousand ways about stuff.
"I was forced." -Ronnie
12 wicked bands, 2 sold-out nights. My mind is full of moments. Bursts of energy. Bold flashbacks. Solid craftsmanship. With an incredible bond among the craftsmen. If they made a step-counter for hugs, mine would have broken. Is there normally that much hugging at punk shows? Seems like a cool trend.
It was rad playing the first night and getting to focus on liquor and yelling the 2nd night. No obligations. No need for preservation. No mercy. For some reason the nice bartender was selling me the tall Pabst cans for $5 instead of $7.25. When I tried to order 4, she told me not to abuse it. I slowly lowered my head and held up 2 fingers. Meanwhile Shafer was ON the doubles, and he was on them hard.
12 bands, and every one was great. No filler. I've never seen a line up outside the Media Club before it opened. It's an overwhelming feeling to feel. People are coming to see this. Paying money to be entertained. Loudly entertained. And the bands delivered. The room was well fed, piled-high with sweaty smiles and nodding heads.
Floodgates of memories. From the passion of Aanthems, to the 'Twin Vikings' of Ellesmere, to Rich Lowe's miraculous ankle recovery. Seeing Tim fronting a band. Pavel Bure's Omar ending. Kristy on the horn. Nick getting the new guitar for Morgan. The Pederson 2-tall smash. Marco's underpants. My bro's fence face mask. Hogie's hair. The precision of Contra Code. The energy of Anteater. The skills of Skells. The Shockload speed. The Garrison grin. The 7th inning stretch. Topes win. When Ben VonDubya tells you to move, you fuckin move. Please note: The key to a good Corps experience is to start on the Pederson side and slowly merge towards the Ronnie side. That way you get the cake AND the icing.
Tim, get over here.
You were the best frontman of the Fest. Your passion is an ocean. Your castle is without walls. You inspire bands to work harder and get better. You offer an avenue of exposure that we could not create by ourselves. It takes a strong leader to unite the clans. And in return all you ask for is an honest effort and a chance to sing along. Thank you Tim.
And so concludes my review of Rocket From Russia Fest.
My back is sore, my brain is a mess, the weekend was a great success.