Spring Break
UA rock lover shares insight on local music scene
Amanda Wells
Issue date: 8/22/07 Section: Life & Style
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As an avid fan of local music, especially the local metal scene, I know a lot of musicians in the Fayetteville area. I don't say this to brag, though. If you knew the people I'm talking about, you wouldn't brag about it. Actually, you'd probably do as I do and pretend you don't recognize them when you see them in public.
I only mention this as a sort of disclaimer: The writer of this column might or might not know members of the bands mentioned herein, and therefore any recommendations concerning said bands should be taken with a grain of salt.
That said, I should also let my readers know that I don't consider myself a music guru of any sort. I know what I like, and this is my opportunity to share my opinion with a semi-captive audience. What more could I ask for?
My column will deal primarily with local bands and local shows, for two reasons. First of all, I'm sure my dear readers don't want to be pelted with information about far-away shows that they did not, cannot or will not attend. But more importantly, I'm a poor college student and I don't have the time or the money to go to those far-away shows very often.
When I do have the time and money, however, reason No. 2 for writing about local shows can and will be suspended. This is one of those instances:
This summer I had the amazing opportunity to witness the glory of three days full of performances by more '80s rockers than I could count, only a two-hour drive from Fayetteville. The anticipation of seeing that many spandex-clad men with Aqua-net hair was grueling, but Rocklahoma was well worth the wait.
The four-day-long festival that took place outside Pryor, Okla., in mid-July was obviously a gift bestowed upon rock fans by a loving, merciful god. The audience was a virtual sea of sin, but some higher power saw fit to allow the festivities to continue anyway.
The sins of the concertgoers did not go without punishment, however. Crippling headaches rained down upon those who spent too much time at the VIP beer tent. And, oh, the horrors that befell those who engaged in fornication! I can hardly bring myself to mention what those poor fools had to endure … gonorrhea … syphilis … the horror of waking up next to the unwashed roadie of a has-been '80s rocker…
I only mention this as a sort of disclaimer: The writer of this column might or might not know members of the bands mentioned herein, and therefore any recommendations concerning said bands should be taken with a grain of salt.
That said, I should also let my readers know that I don't consider myself a music guru of any sort. I know what I like, and this is my opportunity to share my opinion with a semi-captive audience. What more could I ask for?
My column will deal primarily with local bands and local shows, for two reasons. First of all, I'm sure my dear readers don't want to be pelted with information about far-away shows that they did not, cannot or will not attend. But more importantly, I'm a poor college student and I don't have the time or the money to go to those far-away shows very often.
When I do have the time and money, however, reason No. 2 for writing about local shows can and will be suspended. This is one of those instances:
This summer I had the amazing opportunity to witness the glory of three days full of performances by more '80s rockers than I could count, only a two-hour drive from Fayetteville. The anticipation of seeing that many spandex-clad men with Aqua-net hair was grueling, but Rocklahoma was well worth the wait.
The four-day-long festival that took place outside Pryor, Okla., in mid-July was obviously a gift bestowed upon rock fans by a loving, merciful god. The audience was a virtual sea of sin, but some higher power saw fit to allow the festivities to continue anyway.
The sins of the concertgoers did not go without punishment, however. Crippling headaches rained down upon those who spent too much time at the VIP beer tent. And, oh, the horrors that befell those who engaged in fornication! I can hardly bring myself to mention what those poor fools had to endure … gonorrhea … syphilis … the horror of waking up next to the unwashed roadie of a has-been '80s rocker…
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