All week I felt conflicted with my life choices, Facebook just filling my head with other people’s ideals of how to live my own life: “I’m not training enough, I drink too much, I should start to meditate to shut my fucking head up.” Seeing Violent Soho last night shifted my focus back to my own ‘truth’; ultimately a bit of anarchy reassured me that I was exactly where I wanted to be.
They rocked the shit out of their late set at south coast venue ‘Waves’. Bassist Luke Henery windmilled his long locks onto the stage, he continued to headbang in massive circular motions through the entire grunge-fuelled set. Frontman Luke Boerdam reeled his audience members in as a sea of crowd surfers made their way to the front of the stage. The security guards look bemused as they chewed gum and got handsy with the over-excited rock revelers punishing them as slyly as possible.
Violent Soho manage to perfect balance and musical nuance as the ebbs-and-flows make the mosh pit inhale and exhale, the latter releasing beer cans out of the belly of the beast. The band seem unfased by the aluminum grenades that are launched intermittently past them.
It is the grungiest gig I’ve seen in ages; fights, mosh pits, crowd surfing, people throwing up and passing out. A girl getting down on all fours to crawl through the crowd, as she gets out she launches her thong up onto the stage – then plays air guitar with the remaining double-plugger.
The band close out their set at 12:30 pm with Jesus stole my girlfriend. After a week of self loathing and feeling a bit lost it was the perfect gig to remind me that all this chaos is actually my solace… and no one and no shitty social media philosophers will take that away from me.