Shutdown – Few and Far Between

Few and Far Between

I handed my ticket to the muscular security guard at the club’s door. It was a cold fall night in New York, but I was about to see a whole bunch of New York hardcore bands play. I pushed my way through the almost entirely male audience, everyone wearing mock-basketball jerseys of their favorite bands. Everyone was wearing baggy pants. Some kids even had that legendary black “X” plastered on the back of their hands. Yeah. “This is bad-ass” I remember thinking.

The show started, and a whole bunch of bands began to assault my senses. They jumped about and thrashed wildly. The lead singers always made a point to shove the microphone at the crowd during their chant-along choruses. The mosh pits were a flurry of Vans shoes and sweaty bodies. I didn’t care about the lyrics, because I couldn’t hear them. I didn’t care about the songs, because they all sounded alike. I didn’t even care about the bands, because they all looked the same. This was New York hardcore, and I was venting.

Though the steady progression of bands never seemed to halt, there was one band I remember. There was this group, Shutdown, and I remember them because they had a particularly strong rhythm section. Oh sure, they didn’t sound much different, but they seemed energetic, and I appreciated that. I moshed along to their songs about finding strength and not giving up. “The Judged” and “No Compromise” were two of my favorites. I even shouted along to the chorus of the title track from their new album, “Few and Far Between.” The linear, distorted guitar blended with the self-help lyrics and raged around some crazy-fast hardcore beats. That, and no one kicked my ass during their set. “Man, Shutdown is sweet,” I remember thinking. I even bought their patch to put on the back of my jacket.

The show continued. Shutdown came and went. I can’t remember any of their songs, just that I sort of liked them. I left the club that night on an adrenaline high, not quite sure if I would go see that show again. I walked home, the “hey” chants still ringing in my ears.

RRRRIIIIINNNNGGGG! My hand smacked my alarm and I turned over in my bed. I slowly got up, knowing that school awaited. “What a crazy dream,” I thought. I had dreamed I was at a New York hardcore show. Sadly enough though, I was in Michigan, getting ready to go to school. For a second, I remembered how I had sort of enjoyed Shutdown. Then I realized that it was just a fleeting dream. They were all right for a night, but I don’t think I’d want to return.