I want to pen an entry about my rather tedious experience of a black metal gig yesterday momentarily. It helped me be conscious of a self-discovery: I’m getting old.

Well, how should I begin my tale? God, how corny that sounds. My sister invited me to attend a gig of Behexen and I agreed without thinking firstly because they were Finnish. And if you know me, you know what is the meaning underlying the fact. My first thought was about naked Finnish men with corpsepaint in a sauna, talking about their dicks. So I agreed. Though I was a bit skeptical about going to the gig because black metal had started to seem a bit silly and boring, I did not completely think all the way through of how things would go. Since the past two years I’ve been bored to death in metal gigs, with no explanation.

My choice of garments was a bit unconventional for a gathering of that sort but I no longer cared, for I did not feel I belonged to that clan of humans. I threw on a long colorful skirt, like Pola Negri in Sumurun, a black top and small blue velvet boots. Oh how I longed to have my Tom of Finland book in my possession again so I could make the members of Behexen sign it. But it was no longer part of my ownership since I gave it to a lad as a birthday present who would actually use it and not just giggle childishly at every drawing. Yet I miss it still! It was the Biker’s Edition. There was a dedication to the sexiness of Marlon Brando…but I am sure I was meant to own the bigger Tom of Finland book; that is around three hundred bucks. It has rare, never-seen (by me) pictures of Touko Laaksonen when he was younger and, hell, even the bumps in their pants and those “pocket boners” of the guys from the drawings are bigger.

(Credit to julia-loves-bette-davis.tumblr.com)

Sorry sorry. I got carried away with my usual TOF talk that ever so terrifies humans that approach to me. When my sister and I arrived to the gig, it was half-empty which means we arrived early as hell. I did as my wont, stared at beauteous long haired lads and craved for a Coke. My sister told me to act normal even though “it was hard for me”, to so famously quote my kinswoman. I kept blabbering about how this concert was reminding me of how I saw my favorite band live again (which was miraculous) a few months ago and hoping that I would not die from boredom this time. Meanwhile, my sister was excited as hell to see this one lad that she was currently besotted to.

The first band, whose name I cannot absolutely remember, was local and their music..was..erm…not really my cup of tea. To not seem as uncomfortable I had to fake a smile that symbolized a hidden meaning of incuriosity. I kept thinking that I would rather have been in a gig of my favorite band instead or Frank Zappa…Oh! Their drummer was basically Zappa’s twin! He even had his nose and everything, which fascinated me all the more. I kept hoping and sort of expecting that Behexen would possibly be the third band so everything would be over with already but that was only a million years away.

The next few bands were just downright cheesy. There was this one band that dressed like the Dementors from Azkaban. They were all right but interminably bored me after five minutes. But when this other band who exuded the term “badass” in their head started playing…the twat heavy metal fans started participating in a mosh pit. Of course I love being in front row…though making eye contact with the musicians forces my timidity to devour me. I was pushed fiercely, oh no, and I almost dropped my treasured bracelet that I have had on my arm since last year. I thereby stormed to the back of the venue and greeted my sister’s friends. The tedium had plagued me by then and I had begun to do things from absolute silliness. I twirled my skirt around, made jokes about the bands and after twenty minutes I just sat down.

This one performance did it for me. I could not stand them. I began thinking of how I could have sweetly enjoyed this music in the first place. Yeah, back then I was a very bored teen and I guess I was just attempting to spread my taste…yet I think I had only liked it to just feel different and better about myself. In other words, I had never really fallen in love with the subgenre. I was sulking in my seat…as I yawned and yawned….begging for this to stop and knowing that I had to get through another band. It all sounded the same. The riffs, the drumming and the vocals. I don’t even remember the guitar solos…I don’t think there were any.

Finally Behexen came on stage and I readied my eyesight for the men from Touko Laaksonenewwwwwwww‘s land. I fooled around with my sister’s technological device (her phone) and searched for “Tom of Finland”. Yes, while I was seeing Behexen perform I was also staring at homoerotic drawings. While the singer bellowed something indecipherable for my mind, I sang along by yelling, “SEX IN THE SAUNAAAA!!!” though no one could hear me. After about ten minutes, I shrugged, yawned, and looked around the room. Wow, these humans were actually enjoying this? All their songs sounded the same, in all honesty. After so many minutes, tears began to stream down from my eye sockets. Oh my lord, boredom tears. And it just wouldn’t end….when it did I could not take so much reality. I had been imagining how Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier would attend these sorts of gigs dressed in leather attire. Hell, they’d be like the couple in Wild at Heart. After that I went home and just threw myself on the bed. My ears were ringing and the exhaustion just robbed me of care.

After this I came to the conclusion that after these two years of gradually losing my fascination for black metal, I was just growing the hell up and finding my true musical deities. Which obviously were not bands that sang about how Satan did his makeup or fornicated with virgins. Oh well, I guess I wasn’t really destined to be a zealot for the music of devil worship. Oh what the hell, I still have all my other darlings in my heart. Making realizations like this one reminds me exactly of a My So-Called Life episode.

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