Quick October

Fall is a busy time. I've seen several shows without writing a word about them. I loved the DOC and Shoppers show at La Casa. The singer for Shoppers, Meredith, is incredibly friendly and talkative. I spent a long time talking about everything from matryoshka dolls to food with her. At La Casa, the band had some problems with equipment and Meredith's voice was drowned out by the sound of the band's instruments. DOC has never sounded better. The heavy bass got into my bones. The acoustics at La Casa made DOC sound all the more intense.

This Saturday, I went to Youngblood Fest in Baltimore, Maryland. So many bands, so much youth-crew style music. The line-up: Iron Age, Lion of Judah, No Tolerance, Police & Thieves, Rival Mob, Brick, Sacred Love, Give, Mob Mentality, Stick Together, Noose, and Bad American. Plus, Vegan Treats sold whoopie sandwiches there - chocolate and peanut butter or pumpkin and cream. Delicious. Our friend Joey from Chicago, who plays drums for Noose, gave me and Pat a sticky bun that the Chicago group had gotten from Vegan Treats the night before. An amazing, gooey, pecan-covered treat.

I enjoyed listening to Noose who delivered fast and furious hardcore. The singer from Razor Fade catapulted toward the stage to sing along with a cover song and took over the microphone for a little while. Between songs, Noose's singer broke into a speech about being vegan and straight edge. He berated listeners that if they'd been in the scene for longer than a year and were still eating meat, he considers them weak or heartless. Pretty militant. When Stick Together played, the singer praised Noose's performance, while also commenting that he eats meat.

No Tolerance from Boston, Massachusetts were incredibly tight and their singer, Justin from Mind Eraser, has a strong voice. I heard them last year and they impressed me then. They stood out for me among all of the bands who played the fest. I hope to see them again.

After No Tolerance played, Pat and I got take-out food from One World, a vegan cafe and sandwich shop. We also picked up a couple of items for our friends. I ordered the vegetable jambalaya. Pat got the steak and cheese for himself and Brian Lam, who was playing drums for Mob Mentality. Jason Toner got the meatball sub. One World uses the popular Daiya cheese and their mock meat has a good texture in the sandwiches. The sausage in the jambalaya tasted like Yves Sweet Italian Veggie Sausage that I tend to avoid, because of its mushy texture and artificial flavor. Regardless, for jambalaya, I'd prefer a spicier sausage or chorizo.The vegetables were soggy, although the restaurant mixed in a nice array of peppers, tomato, corn and onions. We passed our friend Andy Norton as we were walking back to the show. He labeled the jambalaya as tasting like something he'd fish out of the frozen food section of the grocery store and the food generally from One World as bland. I love spicy food and he was being a little too harsh. I really do think the sandwiches look filling and the bite I had of Pat's steak and cheese was tasty.

Rival Mob did an unexpected Misfits cover of Where Eagles Dare, which was fun. I was shocked, though, when the singer acted like they'd just played an obscure song given the fact that you can purchase Misfits merchandise even from Hot Topic at your local mall.

We left right before Iron Age took the stage. We got to the show before the first band started playing at around 2:15 p.m. We got to my house at around 10:30 p.m.

Oh - one last thing - I bought an extra-small, hot pink, girl's t-shirt with the Youngblood Records logo. Pat coveted my shirt. He complained that Youngblood failed to make neon pink t-shirts in men's sizes. Heads up to what might happen if Pat takes charge of making shirts for one of the bands he is in...

Socialcide, Rations, Dry Spell, Gut Reactions

This show brought down the Corpse Fortress a little over a week ago. The bands all played with fast-paced intensity.

Rations, a DC, straight-edge band, was amazing and sounded tighter than ever.

(Pictures of Rations.)

Socialcide is a band from Virginia with a couple of straight-edge members, but they are not straight edge. Regardless, Parsons, their bassist (who is also the singer for Rations), still felt inspired to yell out "straight edge." Right after he shouted, the light illuminating the room went out. They played their next song in cell-phone dotted darkness, with a few people holding up their cell phones like people used to hold up lighters to request an encore. Someeone brought in a lamp and placed it on top of an amp. The lamp fell and busted. From where I sat on the stairs, I could see the guitarist put his foot down on the bulb. The band again played in darkness. They still delivered their adrenalin-pulsing, energy-packed music. I'm glad that I got an opportunity to see them one last time.

ONE MORE PICTURE OF RATIONS

And sorry - my friend took the pictures. I don't have any good pictures of Socialcide, although they are an amazing band and I certainly don't mean to slight them.

More Than a Run-On Sentence - a Run-On Blog Entry

My week started off with a clothing swap and potluck at Christine's house. My housemate Zack, our friend Olga, and I made tabouli salad using a recipe from the Moosewood cookbook. Gathering the ingredients in a last minute rush, we got stuck buying limp, curly parsley at the Giant near my house. Then, once we started dicing scallions and tomatoes, I noticed that we were low on lemon juice. With an eye on the clock, we substituted lime juice for some of the lemon juice in the recipe. Fortunately, the lemon-lime still balanced the garlic, tomato and parsley well. I liked it. The food table at the potluck mostly amounted to a some chips and grocery-store cookies. As for the clothing, I appreciated the variety of sizes, colors, and styles. I got a few dresses, a shirt, and a patch.

While we were at Christine's in DC, a storm hit with almost the ferocity of a tornado. The high winds sent both power lines and trees crashing onto the streets. The rain literally came down in sheets. Our housemate Meredith had remained home alone with Basil and Viola, the two Boston Terriers that I was watching for Pat while he was on tour with Rations. Meredith holed up in the basement with the dogs cuddled up against her as our electricity went out. Apparently, more than 300,000 customers in Maryland lost power. At Christine's, we stayed dry inside. When Zack, Olga, and I ventured out, the ride home presented unusual challenges, forcing us to maneuver through intersections with the traffic lights out and around tree limbs strewn across the roads.

According to Meredith, as she ran upstairs to retrieve her cat, Motley, she glanced out of the window. Meredith spotted the elderly lady who puts trash in our yard. The lady was soaked and roaming around in the street, looking at our house. The lady was nice to me the next day and I haven't spoken with her in a long time. She told me that she'd worried about us and wasn't sure we'd know what to do in a storm. I ignored the condescension, although Meredith complained to me that Meredith wasn't the one circling trees as branches blew by in the wind. I thought maybe the lady would stop discarding rotting food items near our sewer drain, but she didn't stop. This very morning, I saw two rotting tomatoes perched curbside in our yard.

When I got home after the storm, I sat with Zack and debated going to Ilsa's record release show. He went. I focused on food. People had inhaled our tabouli salad at the clothing swap and I was hungry for dinner. Pat called me from Brooklyn. Inviting me to stay at his house in DC, I accepted after calling one of his housemates to confirm that they had electricity. I drove with Pat's dogs through the debris-filled streets. By then, the failure of the traffic lights and the impatience of drivers had resulted in a series of accidents. Navigating around the obstacle course of tree branches, I just felt tired.

When I got to Pat's house, I left off the dogs and went to dinner with his housemate Rachel. It was almost 8pm. We drove to multiple restaurants, finding each one closed. I finally settled on ice cream made from coconut milk that I bought from Giant. Totally unhealthy. I went to sleep early in Pat's bed, with Pat and his other housemate, Greg, still in Brooklyn for the Ration's tour. I appreciated the air conditioning.

On Monday, Pat was back and I saw his and Zack's band, State Violence, play at the Corpse Fortress, which means in the basement of a house in Silver Spring. They sounded like a wall of angry feedback and noise, heavy on the bass and drums. Mundo Muerto (CA), Perdition (NYC), Lotus Fucker (DC), and Syndrome (VA) provided a night of incredible music. Mundo Muerto especially surprised me. They have an early 80s punk sound and I really got into their music.

Not to give a daily rundown, but I saw my friend Bridget during the week. For no occasion at all, she bought me a spatula that looks like a guitar and a set of pirate-themed baking cups for cupcakes. Another night, I went to Casey Jones, a restaurant in La Plata that serves wood-fired pizzas, to commemorate the last day of one of the law clerks volunteering at the Public Defender's Office where I work. The restaurant is amazing in the context of La Plata, which is, in essence, a collection of strip malls and fast food restaurants. The pizza's crust is crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. They don't have vegan cheese, but do offer a pizza without cheese with extra sauce and a collection of green vegetables.

I went to a show on Friday at St. Stephen's Church. State Violence played again. Blood Type, a straight-edge band from New Jersey whose demo tape is called Bringing More Stuff Down, played a set with an 80s hardcore sound. They did a cover of Black Flag's Drinking and Driving. Who wouldn't like hearing a cover of that song? (Aside - I spoke with a guy named Max from Austin who told me about a girl he'd met in Germany who claimed "covers of songs" as her favorite type of music. Weird.) Nomos played next. Their singer scrunched his face up and shifted his eyes around as if he was trying to imitate Jack in The Shining. Christine, from Deathrats and the clothing swap, told me that she liked his somersaults. Some other friends told me that the Nomos singer was criticizing them for not wearing shiny, athletic shorts. The guy insisted that the shorts breath well and increase his mobility as he belts out those lyrics. Of course, he didn't appear as the picture of health and his shorts slipped down his waist as he rolled on the floor. Next, Brain Killer played. Dan complimented their name. He categorized their sound as "mind melting," like a musical lobotomy. Finally, Deathrats played their songs about women's empowerment, independent-thinking and personal accountability.

Mindset, Praise, and Rations - Gabriel Kuhn Book Release Show

On Saturday, I got into Pat's orange van and headed to the Gabriel Kuhn Book Release show at Charm City Art Space in Baltimore. On the way there, Pat, Parsons, Brian, and I stopped at Everlasting Life, an all-vegan restaurant in DC. I got the fried mock chicken with rice and beans. The chicken is crisp and absolutely delicious. I'm getting hungry thinking about it.

Gabriel Kuhn lives in Austria and wrote a book on straight-edge. He originally planned to do a book tour, but he was unable to come into our country. So, the talk on his book evolved into a straight-edge show.

Rations played first and sounded great. I love Parson's voice. In one of their songs, he mimics a Youth of Today yell, but that's alright. I enjoy their straight-ahead, youth-crew style. Beyond their original songs, they played three Minor Threat covers, which naturally pleased the straight-edge crowd.

Praise was also intense. The singer, Andy, moved back and forth across the stage, pumping his arms and putting himself fully into his singing. I'm speculating, but I'd guess that the band is named after the 7 Seconds ep Praise.

Then, Mark Anderson, who organized the show, spoke. Anderson is the author of Dance of Days and one of the founders of Positive Force, a DC organization that encourages political awareness, sets up benefit shows, and performs charitable work. Charm City lacked air conditioning so the room was hot and muggy. Mark Anderson started off complaining about how Gabriel Kuhn was banned from DC as well as the rest of the country. Then, he launched into an hour-long speech about how he doesn't care how people label themselves; he cares what people do. My friend Sarah escaped to the outdoors after a while because she was tired of standing and the heat was interfering with her ability to focus on his words.

Already having spoken longer than any band had played, Anderson opened himself up to questions. Tony Pence asked Anderson about how Anderson shifted from denouncing to becoming a member of organized religion. Earlier in his life, Anderson described the people in the Midwestern town where he grew up as being defined by church or bars, which alienated him because he felt like he didn't belong in either place. Now, he apparently has joined the Catholic Church. Anyway, Anderson gave a long, contradictory answer, indicating that he still recognizes the flaws in organized religion, but that he respects the convictions of many churchgoers. He appreciates the sense of community within the church. Anderson's speech centered on individual accountability and concern for others, yet he finished his speech applauding the church in collective terms; focusing on group support rather than on group pressure within it.

Worn out, Mindset played a short set. Only about 20 people stood scattered around the room, a sharp contrast to the large crowd last month for their record release. Still, they played with enthusiasm and skill.

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PS (6-10-10) My birthday. Andy confirmed that his band, Praise, is named after the 7 Seconds ep. He said that his favorite Seven Seconds album is New Wind. I don't see how anyone could put New Wind before The Crew. Andy said that he loves the lyrics on New Wind.

Joey & Greg's Birthdays

A few weeks ago, before my run of bad luck, I went to two birthday celebrations - one on a Monday and one on a Wednesday night.

The first birthday celebration was in honor of my friend Joey, who is a gentle, good-natured, easygoing guy. He also lacks any sense of time. Our friend Julie baked him a chocolate cake in the shape of a dinosaur and put Fruit Loops on top of it. Our friend Alex bought an assortment of chewy candy. Lots of people sat around on couches and we talked. We waited. Then, we waited some more, which was alright since I got to catch up with some people who I hadn't spoken with in a while. The party was supposed to start at 8:00 p.m. At about 8:45 p.m., Julie called Joey and he told her that he was waiting for some clothes to get out of the dryer and would be over as soon as they were done. O.K. At around 10:00 p.m., I sent Joey a text that I couldn't stay much longer. At around 10:15, Joey rushed in the door with his bicycle helmet on. Facing Julie and me, he said: "Your boy fell asleep." He added: "I got your text, Kim, while I was riding my bike over here and hoped that you wouldn't be gone." (Aside: A while back, Joey was playing in band at a house show. The band wanted to start playing, but Joey was missing. He was apparently in another part of DC. He didn't arrive at the show for another 40 minutes... The clincher: the house hosting the show was his house.)

Anyway, Joey doesn't like to be the center of attention, which may be part of the reason why he was late to the party. As the flames rose up on the candles on his cake, the color on his cheeks rose to a deep red. Not only did he seem appreciative, but he also noted that the cake was his first dinosaur cake. In talking with him, I always appreciate his curiosity and big heart.

A good transition to the next birthday party: Joey and I started talking about Cafe Green, which is a new, sit-down, swanky vegan restaurant that just opened up in DC.

My friend Greg celebrated his birthday on Wednesday. A group of about 14 of us gathered and went to Cafe Green. We sat at a giant, round table, which meant no one could talk to people on the opposite side of the table without shouting. The owner of the restaurant kept coming by our table and repeating with a smile that he'd envisioned such a group around that table - "friends, community." Expensive gathering place.

I ordered the sesame salad with mock chicken, which cost $12. I topped it off with a $2 order of cornbread, an order being a single, small slice of cornbread. My salad was larger than a typical side salad, but not what I'd categorize as a dinner portion. After eating the salad and the bread, I was still hungry. The salad contained a variety of greens, but the chicken lacked flavor. Despite the sesame dressing, the chicken pieces still tasted like bland lumps. Chris and I ordered cornbread, which was dry enough that neither one of us wanted to eat it until more water arrived at the table. I shared my piece with Pat who complained that it was cold.

Greg, Pat, Chris, Brian, and some other people ordered the $11 mock steak and cheese sandwich. We knew the waiter. As he deposited Greg's sandwich on the table, Greg asked: "Where is the whole sandwich? I didn't want a half order." We did get two free slices of cake, which was enough for everyone at our table to get a bite. The cake also served as a cue to sing "Happy Birthday."

We left Greg's house at 6:45 and got done with dinner at around 10:20. We returned to Greg's house and I made a quick batch of cookies, which got wolfed down since people were still hungry. After a three hour dinner, still hungry; go figure. I had wanted to try the restaurant, even if I may not return there again. The memory of the birthday celebration makes the evening special even if the food was - yes, I'll use the word - boring.

Tiny Town Tour

Last night, Lotus Fucker (Hey, what is in a band's name? These guys are nice and funny.) embarked on the first night of their weekend Tiny Town Tour, playing a Mexican restaurant in Burtonsville, Maryland.

PAT->

I entered the restaurant, passed by several couples dining, and imagined those couples choking on their chips when Lotus Fucker took the stage. The restaurant had some tables lined up in a narrow corridor like a tributary leading into a main room with a small stage and even more tables.

The restaurant staff was extremely friendly to us. We sat through a band doing 311, Blink 182, and Green Day covers. The restaurant staff brought free nachos for Dan, as well as a pitcher of soda and glasses of water for all of us. Hospitality.

The cover band talked a lot about being drunk, inspiring some inebriated woman to ask me why I hadn't had any alcohol. I was surprised she noticed and also wondered why she was only asking me and not my Lotus Fucker friends sitting with me. I told her that I don't drink alcohol. She quietly placed me into her category of outcasts-who-intentionally-abstain-from-beer, smiled uncomfortably, and walked away.

Lotus Fucker is a noisy hardcore, five-member band with a lot of distortion and growling vocals. They achieve a sound reminiscent of Japanese bands like Gauze. Anyway, they sound nothing like Blink 182.

When they started playing, yes, some people did retreat from the area around the stage. I was the sole Lotus Fucker fan present to cheer on the band. I tried to be demonstrative.

DAN ->

Meanwhile, Lotus Fucker won over the sound man and the guy from the restaurant who set up the band night. They even got asked to play again on May 1st. Go figure. They didn't win over the woman who'd questioned me on my lack of alcohol, but I enjoyed watching her purse her face as she shot out of the room with Dan's first scream.

Dan, the singer, likes to get up in people's faces when he sings. With me being the only person standing in the middle of the room, he told me it'd be a little awkward to keep jumping at me. So, he moved around a lot in an empty space near me.

After the band finished, one woman approached Brad, the guitarist, and told him to ditch Dan and get someone who actually "sangs." It was the first step in her plan for them to become a real band; I guess a band like the 311-cover band. PAT, BRAD, DAN

Mindset Record Release

One hundred fifty people attended the Mindset Record Release matinee show at Charm City Art Space. Somehow, I managed to get a free slice of vegan chocolate cake, which disappeared quickly from its 9 x 13" pan and tasted delicious. They also gave away some non-vegan cupcakes.

By the time my friends and I got to the show, we'd missed Outlast, Force Fed, and Thought Crusade. Oh well. We arrived just as Rival Mob, from Boston, started playing. Pat asked me what I thought. My response: "testosterone." They sounded fine, but the singer kept awkwardly seeking to brag. For example, he rambled about how he's been straight-edge for 12 years, but sometimes he feels like he's sacrificed parties and screwing the hot girls. He swaggered that his ex-girlfriend drank a ton of alcohol and he sure did enjoy watching her dance. He concluded that "it" all works out. He also kept doing arm flexes on stage, flipping the crowd off with an ultra serious expression on his face and, then, darting his head around like he wanted to verify everyone was still watching, which sort of reminded me of a Saturday Night Live skit.

At dinnertime, I went to a restaurant called XS a few blocks from the show and ordered the Tofu Pad Thai. $9. The noodles sat in the bowl in a mushy clump with a layer of silken tofu underneath that tasted like someone had dumped it straight from the package into the bowl. Pat went a couple of doors down to a Middle Eastern restaurant. I had trouble seeing the chickpeas underneath the oil in the container they were in. He got the "mixed vegetables," while refusing to call the food "bad," said that he'd never at there again. Jason and Nolan made the wise decision and went to a grocery store nearby that apparently had decent rolls stuffed with spinach. We were going to return there with them to get a few snacks, but it apparently closes early on Sundays. A few other friends got cheeseless pizza, but their orders took a half an hour. I didn't eat any, but, when I asked how it tasted, the response was: "It's food."

Mindset sounded amazing. Someone stage dove and took down a light, which led to a brief intermission while the glass got swept off of the floor. The break gave the band a chance to catch its breath and come back twice as hard.

We stayed for the "late" show, which began at around 8:30 p.m. Praise played first, which is essentially Mindset II - all of the same band members as Mindset except for the singer. Then, Sacred Love played and I enjoyed listening to them, although I felt my cold kicking in. 90s-style mosh. Again, their members overlapped some with Mindset. Finally, Social Cirkle from Boston played. I like them. They play fast and strike a good balance between the volume of the vocals and their instruments. They also have cool merch. I like the designs on their shirts. The drummer apparently silkscreens them himself. DIY!

Harms Way, Coke Bust, Magrudergrind

Work ended. I rushed home and popped my leftover pizza into the microwave. As I tore through my dinner, I heard screaming from the living room, my housemate Dave was watching the end of Evil Dead II in which nearly a city's worth of zombies get electrocuted. Then, I jumped into my car with another housemate, Zack, and we trekked to the Charm City Art Space in Baltimore for a show featuring straight-edge and grindcore bands.



My theme needs to be "better late than never," because, despite the rush, I still managed to miss most of the first band, Eddie Brock. As I fished money out of my wallet to pay the $8 cover, I heard screaming vocals rising above a loud, distorted guitar. I walked toward the stage, the band put down their instruments, and people started funneling outside.

I ran into Pat almost immediately, who announced that he was starving. So, we walked a few blocks with another friend, Walker, to a nearby sushi restaurant, where Pat loaded up on shiitake mushroom sushi and inari. Although he and Walker ordered carryout, the restaurant took a while preparing everything and we missed the second opening band.

We returned to Charm City as Coke Bust was starting their set. When DRI played in Baltimore in December, Nicktape, the singer of Coke Bust, took a stage dive and crashed onto the cement floor, spraining his leg. While he hobbled and grimaced over the next few weeks, he kept telling me that he'd stage dive again to that DRI song if he had it to do over, because the song was that intense. That's the hardcore warrior mentality that Nick injects into his singing. He wants his band to play at a breakneck pace. Last night, Coke Bust succeeded, offering an unrelenting, straight-edge musical assault.

Then, Harm's Way, on tour from Chicago, took the stage. Calling their singer muscular is an understatement. The man's arms are bigger than my thigh and his thigh is bigger than my waist. My friend Jason said "slow mosh." I guess they qualify as a metal-influenced, straight-edge band.

Finally, Magrudergrind, a trio from DC, played. I've heard different people call this band both catchy and brutal, which are words not usually used to describe the same band. They spew forth noise, which satisfies people seeking "brutal", but they also break in the right places. Magrudergrind shares a drummer with Coke Bust, Chris Moore. His drumming is phenomenal. He is a master of tempo, shifting effortlessly between blast beats and a more straightforward rock sound. He holds the wildness of the guitar and singer together in Magrudergrind, giving what would otherwise be chaos a unity and momentum. Magrudergrind tore through their set, because all shows on weeknights at Charm City need to be over by midnight.

xSaturdayx

This weekend was warm and sunny in DC. Here, Spring weather offers a jam of people in the museums, memorials, and historic buildings like at Six Flags minus the rides. People come from all over. Some of them shuffle sullenly along, bumping into things as their eyes remain anchored to the ground. They are not part of a performance piece in honor of the Cherokee Trail of Tears and in protest against the absence of a Native American Memorial. No, they simply feel forced to trudge the Mall as a favor to a friend or family member. Meanwhile, lots of people are laughing and talking loudly. Clusters of people buzz around snapping pictures of everything. No joke, my friend said that on Saturday, several people even took pictures of his rented Enterprise van, which was parked at a meter.

This Saturday, I went to the memorials. I saw groups of kids wielding sticks and yelling "expelliarmus" and "acio," citing Harry Potter as the truth they find self-evident. Grandmas solemnly tried to put the sites in historic and political context. Some did better than others as guides. I overheard one grandparent in front of the Lincoln Memorial telling her grandkids: "See that portrait? That's a former president." The kids nodded and stared for a while at the super sized Lincoln carved out of marble. Other couples speed-walked on their own determined tourist mission, maybe trying to see how many points of interest they can reach in a two-hour period.

Pat Vogel and I met up with eleven, straight-edge people from Chicago who are in touring bands (no pun intended). On the road from 1:00 a.m., they drove straight to Amsterdam Falafel in Adams Morgan. Amsterdam offers what the name suggests: falafel. What makes the restaurant stand out is its toppings bar. Pans of red, orange, and white sauces; blue, green and yellow vegetables; purple, green, and brown chilis; green and red cabbage; and cream hummus are lined up and ready to make your sandwich a work of culinary art. So, we dipped the french fries and chickpea patties in hummus. I tossed Chipotle hot sauce over everything and we talked about food, sunshine, and the evil of Nazi skinheads.

After eating, we agreed to meet at the Washington Monument and two guys from the Chicago group, Nick and Joey, road over to it with us. I was just getting to know them and enjoyed sharing some of our likes and dislikes.

After the group reconnected, we walked from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial. I was happy to be moving around. One of the guys yelled out that he wanted to see Barry O's place, but the White House was too big of a detour. They joined the picture taking buzz. They jumped down steps and weaved through crowds, clicking their cameras. We all took pictures for other people. We scattered as we moved from place to place, which meant we had trouble keeping track of each other. Finally, we needed to get ready for the show that night, which was taking place in the basement of a house called The Corpse Fortress.

The show was scheduled to start at 7:00 p.m., but we got there at 7:30 p.m. We walked in the front door to find a few people sitting in the living room watching an anime film. A couple of girls ate cake in the kitchen and, then, strolled outside to enjoy the temperatures. I talked to people in both locations as the first band gradually set up. Half of the opening band still was en route.

At about 8:15 p.m., the first band, Transgression, played. They are a female-fronted, crusty band from DC. They are friendly folks with a penchant for His Hero is Gone. I like them, although their drummer should beat his drums a little harder to rise above the grind of their very solid guitarist, Zack Chumley. Then, Razor X Fade played and the basement was full. As with the rest of the Chicago bands, they are not only straight-edge, but political. The singer talked about his lobbying efforts to pass legislation aimed at ending the recruitment of child soldiers. The crowd raised their X'd up fists along with the beat. Without much of a delay, Boiling Over played and stirred the crowd into a frenzy. Poison Planet finished off the night with fast hardcore. Their songs include some Dead Kennedys-style guitar leads, but have more of a Negative Approach sound. They did a cover of Nazi Punks Fuck Off, but a back story exists that is too long to discuss in this entry. Everyone in the basement seemed to sing along. I enjoyed the music and had a lot of fun.

After the show, Pat and I went back to his house to make vegan donuts. Our friend, Jason Toner, is the donut master. He showed up a little while later with some ingredients - chocolate, flour, and yeast. More people trickled into the kitchen after the dough was made. Unfortunately, the donut-making process is long since the dough needs to rise twice before the donuts can be deep fried. Jason doesn't rely on clocks, but can eye the dough and tell when it's ready.

The clock, though, ticked away and I realized I wasn't going to get much sleep. The Chicago bands spent the night at Pat's house, but didn't get there until 1:30 a.m. They'd made a pit stop for vegan jumbo slice pizza at Duccini's. The donuts, though, weren't ready for almost another hour. I made up a chocolate topping and filled some of the donuts with raspberry jam. I located a recipe for Boston Cream filling and Pat did a perfect job of making it. Later, he dipped donut holes straight into the Boston Cream. People took turns dunking the donuts in glaze and frosting them, but we weren't done until after 3:00 a.m. During part of the donut assembly, I think I was sleepwalking around the kitchen. Long day, especially for the Chicago people who'd woken up in the dark in Chicago, driven for 13 hours, gotten a quick falafel meal and walked for a few hours around the memorials in DC, and, finally, played a show. I'm not going to complain much about being sleep deprived, since the Chicago contingent needed to wake up early the next morning to drive eight hours to Buffalo for another show that was scheduled to start at 6:00 p.m.

Twenty people ended up eating donuts, though, and I had a leftover jelly-filled the next day. In my mind, our efforts were worth it. The chocolate and dough made the whole kitchen smell incredible. I treasure the memory of biting into the warm, sugary bread as the raspberry squirted into my mouth and combined with the fresh chocolate that I'd rubbed all over the top. I'd like for donut-making to become another DC tradition among my friends. Jason Toner's recipe is amazing.