That Girl's An Indie Cindy

Club NME is something that seems like a good idea until you get there and your clothes begin to stick to your body from the sweat (please see photo to the left I took that night for sweaty faces and armpits), your shoes get wrecked because everyone is jumping on them, you get hit on the head by beer cans because people think throwing them down from the balcony is amusing and fail to see any of the bands that are playing because you find yourself trapped inside a violent mosh that is actually quite terrifying because the kids who are so desperate to "rock out, man!" have no idea how to control it.

I much prefer the gigs where I can stand on two feet, swaying back and forth, able to sip my beer without spilling it over myself or others and have a clear view of the band. I will never be cool.

But fuck it. I'm here to see Hadouken! (who I hate with a burning passion) and I'm wearing head to toe neon - for fun, obviously. It wasn't until I was sat in The Crescent sporting white hoodie with neon blobs all over it, stripey skirt, green tights and pink shoes that I realised dressing like the kids is not really mocking the kids sufficiently, because the kids won't get it. They'll just think we're one of them. We should have gone as goths. That would have been awesome.

But back to the mosh. I generally avoid them. They scare me. I don't like it. Too many people getting too close. I don't understand how injuring yourself can be considered fun. How can you know if you're enjoying the music if you're too busy getting battered? But I get myself involved anyway. And it was fucking horrid. I shit myself. I pushed everyone away from me because I was genuinely scared and they just pushed me back! I couldn't get out of it once I was in it because people assumed I was still "getting involved" and they couldn't hear me shout "fuck off!" because the music was so loud and they didn't care anyway. They're moshing to Hadouken!, man! It was a neon Hell pit lit with a thousand glosticks.

I wasn't even aware of Hadouken! leaving the stage, and the rest of the night drifted past in a whirl of mobile phone and money loss, more sweat, more drink, slightly more sedate dancing and getting the nightbus home in my neon get-up sitting with three girls who'd been partying at China White feeling utterly scummy and ridiculous. GOOD TIMES. < Really. Good times. I can't wait to go again.