Terror Tour 2/17/2007

Buske and I stayed at Martin’s and slept on the couch with his strange array of cats. He isn’t a “Cat Guy” yet, but he is close. My aunt is a “Cat Lady.” It’s sad that the only thing anybody knows about her is that she likes cats and alcohol and all her birthday or Christmas presents are restricted to those two categories.

My cousin got shot once and tried to cover it up to protect his friend (the shooter). My aunt was interrogating people, following people, showing up unannounced at homes, until she eventually found the shooter herself and got him arrested. She was on the local news and they called her, “Marshall Mom.” My cousin actually served more jail time than the shooter because he initially lied to the police and said "a black guy" did it.

All good things must come to an end, and on the 17th day of the 2nd month of the calendar year of 2007, The All For Revenge United States Tour did just that. The final show was completely sold out and held at the Showcase Theatre in Corona, CA. There couldn’t have been a better finale to a great tour.

War of Ages kicked off the show with some technical difficulties forcing them to play a short set. They will be back soon as part of the Facedown Festival at the Glasshouse. Terror can’t play at the Glasshouse. I’m surprised Terror can play anywhere with their past history of “riots” and their current trend involving Fat Jugs Hernandez threatening promoters and large security men at every other show.

Stick To Your Guns really showed that they are an on the verge of something major with their performance. The sing-along to the only Stick To Your Guns song that people know was DEAFENING.

All Shall Perish once again played over their set time. When Fat Jugs Hernandez went to rectify the situation, he was assaulted by their female stage potatoes. They threw him off the stage and repeatedly kicked him in the penis and testicles. When he went outside, more drama ensued. I am not really sure what happened because I was upstairs dealing with young, sweaty, impatient children attempting to buy concert memorabilia, but I heard it was quite interesting. In a Dekalb, IL barn circa 1991, “Mean” Steve Murad once said, “Equal rights mean equal lefts.” You can read Martin’s thoughts on the incident at www.guttermagic.blogspot.com.

I personally don’t have a problem with any bands with the exception of Chiodos and Trivium. I really don’t even have a problem with them, I just say it to look cool and make it look like I am involved in some sort of “rock beef”, in hopes that it will spike my own album’s soundscan when it drops. I didn’t mind anyone in All Shall Perish. I don’t really know what happened. The only thing that bothered me about them was that their guitar player took his guitar into a shopping mall and proceeded to play wailing solos in the food court. Seriously.


The Warriors played an inspired set that really got the crowd fired up. This band really grew on me throughout the tour and I expect big things out of them. I appreciate the fact that they really bring something different to the table yet are still undeniably hardcore. Everyone in the band looks completely different and appears that they should not be in a band together. It reminds me of high school when you would occasionally see a group comprised of jocks, burnouts, and preppy girls. What could possibly bring those groups together? Drugs, of course.


Marshall is a complete tweaker. He isn’t a tweaker in the traditional sense where he snorts homemade “Scat” from a pen and later uses it to thwart an alien attack, he is just a weirdo who has accompanying hand gestures for every statement he makes. His hand gestures remind me of an older kid on the back of the school bus trying to show a 7th grader how to properly fingerblast a girl. If he, Scott Wade, and Misha were ever drunk in the same room, my head would implode. Javier is a man-child with strange hair. They used to call Shawn Kemp a man-child when he first started in the NBA. Then his scoring average dipped while his illegitimate children average rose. Of course, that happened when he played for the Cleveland Cavaliers. Can Cleveland ever catch a break?

During Terror I realized that most people don’t know how to stage-dive. They get onstage and have to run all the way to the back of the drum riser to have a huge running start before they eventually jump. On their way, they always seem to knock into someone actually playing a musical instrument knocking it out of tune or breaking it. It's obviously not important for the band to actually be able to play, what sense would that make? I see why Frank 3 Gun always wanted to play with 15 foot barricades separating him from the animals. On this day some jack-off ran into Buske’s bass smashing it against the wall. Sick. All you need to do is get on stage, take one step, Jump and in midair twist your body. It's actually a pretty dumb thing when you think about it, so maybe you shouldn't even do it. You like a band, so you go to see a live exhibition of their music, you get so inspired by their rock songs that you stand onstage next to the band, and then proceed to jump off of the stage onto other concertgoer's heads. Yeah, weird.

The show ended, no one got beat up (except Fat Jugz, by 2 girls), and everyone had fun (except Fat Jugz because he got beat up by 2 girls). We loaded out, said our goodbyes to the bands we just toured with, and Buske and I headed back to Martin’s house for another night of cats, Celebreality, and high speed internet.