Skating by the Seat of our Pantaloons

Thrasher SOTY 2012 Party with Stone Vengeance and Midnight 
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Mezzanine, San Francisco, Ca

You know that movie Groundhog Day? Yeah, well my name’s Sean (Hi Sean!) and I got drunk again. At a metal show. Again. But I promise this shant be a continuing tradition of Murray Proportions. That said, bear with me as we embark on another beer-and-so-on infused experience of bruise-inducing music and rad people.

This particular show was thrown by highly esteemed Thrasher Magazine. Its intentions were two-fold. Thrasher wanted to A): hold a rockin-ass metal show that billed two savage bands, Stone Vengeance and Midnight, who would serve to jamtastically serenade the B): Skater of the Year David Gonzalez. Shit, actually I think the music was more the B-Side of the night, but for our purposes, the above definition shall remain. Either way, anyone who gave two hoots about skateboarding was destined to attend and party their night away. I was in.

The digs were held at The Mezzanine, down that lonely alley in SOMA. A place I wouldn’t recommend venturing alone after nightfall. Lucky for us we stood deep, waiting to get into that shitshow. We ended up twiddling our thumbs for about an hour, patiently waiting to get in; obviously taking periodic trips to the corner store down the street to get some brown bagged pastimes. Candice was about 2/3’s ready to call it a night, me all the while pleading for her patience, when the clouds parted and our presence was greeted. We all scurried in past the bouncers, casting out our murmurly snarls.

Once inside I made haste for the bar, as drinks were free, but only for two hours. I’d already lost nearly an hour and time was slipping away quicker by the blink. One of their offerings (or, one of the few that was to be free of charge) was this horrific tonic that consisted of Monster and Vodka. Fuck it, I thought, they’re free and I’m already drunk. It was Candice, bless her heart, who pointed out the combined danger of these two particular thoughts. (Spoiler alert, I would sadly never serve to yield to her casual warnings.) Drink in hand, I wandered around, star-struck by all the legends of skateboarding’s past and present. A combination consisting not only of today’s mind-blowing headliners, but of those who, over the decades, have achieved mythic proportions, having been idols of mine since I was a silly-assed thirteen year-old. Of course, when a magazine of Thrasher’s magnificence holds a yearly party giving the ultimate prestige to that year’s most head-turning skater, it’s pretty much the closest thing skateboarding has to The Oscars or the Funniest Home Videos Finals.

Therefore it’s obviously an honor for any band to be asked to play at such a shindig. This year, before the hand-off of the SOTY Trophy to the amazing David Gonzalez, the first band Stone Vengeance took the stage. Keep in mind that by now I, along with every other ne’er-do-well in the place, had been drinking as much free crap as I possibly could. And history tells us time and time again that mixing a shitload of drunk skaters and fist-pumping metal inevitably results in a really great bloodbath. This was obviously no exception. Candice stood at the edge of the pit and watched in awe-wracked horror as I dove again and again into the big sloppy mess of bro-carnage. The moshpit was angry that night, my friends, and I did all I was capable of to retain my honor and wellbeing. My clips of recollection consist of Smear, Tangle, Ouch, Two guys are fighting!, Smear, Ah!, Bleh, This band rules!… It was a blast. Stone Vengeance is a 3-piece band reared here in good ol’ San Francisco who’s been shredding eardrums since 1978. They’re some yell-drenched thrash metal that makes you just wanna dance in the slam variety. After their set I had a purple hip and a goose-eggish formation on my forehead. The nerd gods had protected my glasses.

Once the trophy had been drunkenly bestowed upon David Gonzalez by the notoriously wily Jake Phelps, it was time for some more music. Candice politely asked me to stay the fuck out of the mosh pit for the next band, Midnight. I think I kinda obliged. It was getting pretty gnarly by the time Midnight took the stage and I felt safer being a spectator. However I can’t completely recall how thoroughly I took heed of such forethought. The band ruled. Or, I can at least remember being stoked and yelling a lot. They all wore these masks that didn’t replace their identity but completely erased it. They were just blank canvases. Which I thought was downright creepy/rad. I’ve always been a fan of the dressed-up musician. Gwar, Kiss, The Grateful Dead. I love all those fuckers.

Midnight was clearly beginning to wrap up their set when Candice took me lovingly by the arm and said, “Come on. We’re going home before you black out and get your ass kicked.” The fact that I remember her saying this is testament to her wisdom. So, all rocked-out we hailed this miniature limo job with a driver that had on an amazing fur hat. We asked if he’d take us home for a flat rate and a bag of chips. He said Fuck It, Sure. We made it back to the safe confines of the indoors and ate chilidogs in front of the TV. The perfect end to a night of nights. I knew I was going to have several varieties of pain in the morning but right then, I felt on top of the world.