Everyone, Break your knees!

Scott Vogel is the singer for the band Terror. He's also been the singer in Buried Alive, Despair, and Slugfest. In addition to the multitude of bands he's screamed for, he's also known for shouting out the most absurd crowd-riling statements. They usually work. Terror shows are some of the most fun times you can have in denver, in my opinion.

The band is pretty stereotypical in terms of hardcore, but its GOOD hardcore. lots of hooks and breaks, thrashy parts and mid-tempo breakdowns that usually throw the crowd from a wicked circle-pit into a ridiculously violent two-step kung-fu street fight.

Terror is playing here in denver in a few weeks, and I'll probably go see them again.

The last time I saw Terror, I actually broke my knee stage-diving. It was the dumbest thing I've ever done, and quite possibly one of the most painful.

Terror was playing a small venue here in Denver called Rock Island. At rock island, the stage is only about waist height off the ground, so in order to stage dive effectively, you have to be able to jump up over the top of people and onto the crowd.

Now those of you who freqent mosh-worthy concerts know that in a typical most pit, the crowd splits. In the very front of the venue, smashed against the stage are the superfans. They know all the fucking song lyrics and shout them back at the singer as hard as they can. This also tends to be the refuge of girls, and smaller people who don't want to get smashed by the frenzied pit behind them.



Picture from Agnostic Front's Last CBGB's show. Note all the people on stage, and smashed up against the stage, and that there's one guy who just staged dived...


The Pit behind them is usually pretty spacious as this is where the knuckle-dragging 30 year old failures puff their chest up and slam around as hard as they can, injuries are common here, bad tattoos (dragons, superheros, and naked chicks) are even more common. Typically, fights break out here at least 4 times a show, if its a good show. Its the place I start out in, and then as I get more tired, I squeeze up front, or fade to the back bar area to get another beer.



This is a pit area from Hellfest, note the skinny-ass vegan kids, the 30 something yuppies having identity problems, the star wars nerds, crusties, and thugs.


There are 2 basic ways that you can get on stage for a stage-dive. you can run up behind the front-row squeeze people, grab their shoulders and pull yourself up and over them, kicking their heads as you land face first onto the stage, or you can try and go around, to the sides of the stage and risk getting stuck behind the stage monitors or floor speakers (some people prefer the latter, climb the floor speakers and dive directly into the crowd, avoiding the stage altogether - these people are fucking crazy).


So At this Terror show, I went up through the front line and onto the stage. I waited for the breakdown in the song called "spit my rage" because its pretty tuff, and these days I usually have only 1 or 2 good dives per show. I then Dove head-first off the left side of the stage. It was actually pretty successful, I landed on a group of fairly accepting people, who proceeded to push me head-over-heels backwards into the pit area. I was on my back in the crowd and my head was falling down, and some guy (or maybe a hot chick?) pushed my butt up so that my legs came over my head and down first, like a backwards summersalt.

I actually landed on my feet....and that was my downfall. because instead of landing with bent knees, I stiff-legged the landing. My left knee took the brunt of the damage (actual diagnosis: torn meniscus, impact fracture to the Tibia). I fell to the ground (not a good place to be in a mosh pit), and some kid helped me up saying "are you ok man?". I said, pathetically, sweatily, and 1/2 drunkedly "no...". He pulled me all the way back to the bar - in the rear of the club - and sat me on a stool and left. My fucking knee was searing in pain. I broke my left ankle once, but it didn't hear nearly as bad as this. it was like someone poured molten tellerium on the back of my knee.

I left the club, or rather, I hobbled and commenced one of the most stupidly brutal urban hikes of my entire existence.

Like a dumbass, I left my cell phone at work, and had no way to call anyone I knew. I also was too embarassed to ask anyone nearby... and also I thought, "what person would like a sweaty wierd limping guy use their phone?"

So I walked. I walked about 10 feet, then rested against the wall of a building or sat on a newspaper box for a few minutes, then walk again. I walked all the way back to my office. it took me a little more than an hour. by the time I reached the office, my knee had started to tighten up, and while sitting there waiting for my wife to come and get me, I wondered how I would be able to get back up and in to the car. Needless to say, getting back down into her car was almost twice as painful.

So what the fuck? what's the moral of this story? Well, if you live a spiteful, hardcore lifestyle that includes suggesting a creationist may somehow be directly responsible for the death of their parents, then maybe sometimes you're gonna snap a few knees.

Also, pictures are from C-Rap.com, they sell good records on ebay.