Armor for Sleep & Boys Night Out at Albany's Empire Live (concert review)

I first heard Armor for Sleep way back in 2002, as a freshman in high school. My cousin sent me the song "Wanderer's Guild" via AOL Instant Messenger's File Transfer option. I waited about two hours to finally hear the sweet sounds of Ben Jorgensen's wistful singing over the top of a style of music I hadn't really heard before. 

I never cared enough to see Armor for Sleep play live, but I kept listening to them after that fateful day in 2002. I always just relied on their recordings. In fact, from 2004 until 2009 Armor for Sleep were probably the most played band both on my stereo (in my childhood bedroom) and while I drove around my parent's car on long drives, with both buddies from high school and the strange and different women I met at parties and through LiveJournal. In fact my favorite female buddy (who will remain nameless) and I spent many hours on the road, driving aimlessly. We almost always had Armor for Sleep playing at some point during these car rides.

So I guess for nostalgic reasons I bought two tickets to see them play, about four months in advance of  the night of the show. Because I won't just take anyone to a concert, and certainly not this concert, I only asked one person. She said no in so many words, so it wasn't my lucky day. I was denied. But what better way to attend an emo show? 

Pretty much what the venue looks like, albeit darker inside

I walked into the upstairs room at Empire Live by myself, after procrastinating the drive over. When I entered I immediately felt awkward which I'm going to blame partially on the music of the first opener, "Hellogoodbye." They came off as a cross between an indie band and a jam band, the likes of which I'd never want to feel at such volumes. The sound of a similar (and more popular) group "Fun." makes my fucking skin crawl, quite honestly. It's a joke that Mark Hoppus recommended The Format album Dog Problems so heavily on his podcast back in 2006 when in fact it's utter poo-doo. Hellogoodbye sounded like Diet Fun. and I immediately felt out of place and strange as I sauntered in alone, amongst about 250 other people who were also dressed in mostly black.

The atmosphere at Empire Live was somewhat of a party type of scene. I found my way over to the bar, where it was basically empty, and stood there alone, awkwardly, for the entirety of Hellogoodbye's set. At one point I moved slightly and stood behind a more densely packed area of people, where I proceeded to act like a human spigot-- each new audience member funneled through me as I stepped aside and then back into my initial location, letting them in by moving out of the way, over and over again. Soon I returned to the bar for a drink. Some tap water. It tasted off but was still drinkable.

Back at my place at the bar, I listened to Hellogoodbye close with their "hit" song which, admittedly, I did recognize, even though I hadn't heard it in about 20 years. Someone nearby had said, "They only have one good song" about ten minutes prior to them actually playing it. The lead singer took off his shirt for the finale and his skinny torso and man-tits jiggled around as his above-the-ears black beanie and horn-rimmed glasses sweatily rocked over the crowd, who eagerly sang along. I stood by myself, cup of ice-water in hand, approximately 40 yards back, expressionless. I was more interested in looking at the people around me, in fact.

Who I saw were a lot of older people, about my age, looking beat up by life, but still good enough (upright and breathing) to make it into the venue to watch the show. 

The women took the evening as a makeshift fashion show, and each emo girl had on a different unique outfit. I hadn't seen a pair of faded cheetah-print pajama pants worn over ripped black jeans and blacked-out slip on shoes with a hoodie and two other jackets... and crazy eye makeup, in quite a while but... you love to see it. That was one of many. 

My personal favorite is the "snake bite" piercings that extend into the nose and forehead, maybe with some sort of angular bangs and a ponytail type of thing. Whatever it is, I'm down to check it out and I enjoyed this. 

One cliché I hadn't remembered until this fateful night was the preppy girl who is out of place at an event like this, yet still a fan of the music. So in a way, she's not out of place at all, really. I spotted at least one, with a puffy knock-off North Face vest over a grey hoodie and some LL Bean boots with Hollister jeans, her hair and makeup done totally conventionally.

On the flipside, the guys I saw all looked to be slightly overweight, with a beard, too-tight hoodie, hadn't slept in a while, probably with BO. Or, "I'm just here with my girlfriend" type of thing. I didn't see a ton of different looking people, per se. Everyone looked kind of tired. A lot of women. Armor for Sleep is kind of a chick band, after all, I guess.

Boys Night Out and the blinding lights above them

Once Boys Night Out starting playing, the whole night changed. Immediately I found myself looking at one of their guitarists, who stood on stage proudly wearing a white-denim Canadian tuxedo. If his outfit wasn't enough, his hairdo and mustache said even more. He looked like he knew how to pronounce several French words and would be able to order fish at a restaurant. His guitar tone squeaked out of the PA like a helium balloon letting air out, then stopped, with bizarre guitar phrases that made me smirk, then almost laugh. As Boys Night Out kept playing I felt I was listening to a version of Senses Fail, basically. It's like I had hit my head really hard against a locker in high school, perhaps, and woke up fluent in a different language, listening to a weird French-Canadian version of Senses Fail that made me laugh, but were just as heavy in a strange way, yet without much screaming.

Towards the end of Boys Night Out's set I found myself standing behind four guys that undoubtedly had met up at the show, around my age. The guy in front of me had on a leather jacket and studded belt was rocking out to the sweet sounds of their song, "Up With Me," off their 2007 album. Although these guys didn't know me we exchanged glances as I began to nod my head and slowly fist pump and shake my hips along to the music, as well. The band was cranked at loud volumes as the stage lights flashed. The vibes of the band had turned the night into a ticket worth buying. I stepped forward and stood next to these random dudes. With my newfound makeshift buddies beside me the band played their final songs. Looking back, as they closed their set, it had truly become Boys Night Out.

Very quickly afterwards, in all of ten minutes, Armor for Sleep took the stage. The sound system was then cranked to 11. As they began playing it was so loud I saw many people running from the stage like they were running away from a bomb going off. Myself included. I ran, I ran so far away... to the other side of the venue, where I stood next to who I believe must have been a merch girl. 

Armor for Sleep was absolutely cranked through the PA

Armor for Sleep played a familiar song at full volume as I looked at this merch girl. She turned and faced me not once, but twice. Then three times. Then four. Then, get this... five times. We started staring at each other, more or less. I found myself transfixed by her. I was in disbelief. She looked exactly like one of my female friends from the past, one I had taken long car rides with. I couldn't look away. But there was something slightly different about her. It just couldn't be who I thought it might be, could it? Just as I nearly started poking her in the arm and asking her what her name was, she walked away of her own volition and disappeared for the rest of the night. She was replaced by a beautiful blonde, who rocked out by herself while standing in place for every song. I did the same thing, myself. 

I did make eye contact with Ben Jorg during the show and he came off as extremely self-confident and powerful. As we locked eyes briefly I wondered why he'd choose to look at me, and looked away for a brief moment. He was dominating, in fact. I looked back and nodded to him in agreement with what he was doing on stage, before I immediately resumed my own genuine, albeit muted in-place dancing. 

Armor for Sleep was pretty good. Ben Jorgenson was relentless with his pace and energy for the duration of their performance. Their drummer whose name I believe is Nash Breen was right there with him. They had fill-in guys on bass and 2nd guitar, who did fine. They played a lot of obscure stuff, which was cool to hear. I was able to hear songs like "Very Invisible" and "Who's Gonna Lie to You," which I didn't think I'd be able to hear. They went with deep cuts and at least one or two went over my head, even as a long-time fan, which was cool and made the show more interesting. Their super loud volume only affirms any shoegaze labels they might've been brandished with over the course of their long existence.

At the end of the show, after the crowd dissipated, I found myself amongst five other people, at the barrier in front of the stage. When you listen to a band for 23 years and have nothing else going on, you tend to hang around after the show. The bassist came out and handed out guitar picks. The drummer chatted up some girls. I walked around a little, then drove home, my ears totally blown out by the bass-heavy live mix at the show. Overall, it was worth checking out. Until next time. - Mike

Why I keep leaving social media

For me, social media started somewhere around LiveJournal. This was basically a rudimentary version of Facebook, wherein users posted blogs about their life with the ability to tag their mood. For example, Mood: ecstatic 😃. At the time, my 2003 life consisted of going to the mall to buy GameCube or PS2 games and hanging out in parking lots, or at the movie theatre because I only had a learner's permit and couldn't really drive myself anywhere. More on this past-life later...

A Nintendo GameCube console.

Beyond LiveJournal (or LJ, as those in-the-know referred to it) we had MySpace, which was actually pretty cool. At a time, MySpace was the best place to put your high school emo band's music up. If you had the right songs, and the right images, you could even fool people into believing you were major-label ready. But this post isn't about Panic! At The Disco. It's about social media.

Members of Panic! at the Disco and Fall Out Boy

After MySpace fizzled I was on the inaugural version of Facebook's high school program. This was the short time period when Facebook extended usage to both college and high school students. At this point I was connected online with everyone within my high school social circle-- people I met up with at house parties or knew from the hallways or cafeteria. We'd go out drinking and the next week I'd see photo albums (a sort of documentation, almost always posted by women) from the weekend. My friend list was probably around 30 or 40 people.

When I entered college in 2006, I used Facebook to try to pick up women. Come to think of it, If there were only dudes on Facebook, and instead it was called, "DudeBook" I probably wouldn't even have had an account.

To go on a tangent, the only way this "DudeBook" concept would work is if it allowed sharing of stock market tips. Men dressed in suits talking about the latest Dow Jones news and the ability to track each other's investment prowess on a simulated Equities interface. Maybe I'd sign up for that, but still somewhat doubtful.

Ben Stein's DudeBook page would be in my "Top 5"

Back to the point. With women on Facebook, I could try out my "game" out by meeting age-appropriate women in real life, and then following up online where I'd be able to say whatever I wanted with almost no consequences. Add in alcohol for most of these interactions and the next-morning embarrassment level ramps up to 100. Thankfully, this was before the invention of smart devices, so for me to drunkenly message someone online, I'd have to go out drinking all night, return home, boot up Windows 2000 Professional, log into my account and send the message. Believe it or not, I used to do this, and many times I would have just run several miles back from the train station to my parents house, while blasted, beforehand.

A pint of pale ale.

I guess the main point of all of this was to talk to women and find my way into some "action." The digital medium was just tangential to an actual in-person interaction. A supplemental approach. It's barbaric to strip all of this down to Freudian theory, where 100% of motivation boils down to desire for sexual exchange. I'd venture to say it's slightly more complex. Why does anyone seek out opposite-sex companionship? I think it's reliant on some level of intangibility. I guess women are annoying most of the time, but the positives are finding the right one can make you look cool?

Stars of the movie based on a book, Twilight.

But back to digital interaction with the opposite sex. Allow me to bestow upon you two tidbits of old school knowledge. The first being, that I was in high school for the dawn of SMS messaging, and prior to the dissolution of T9 in favor of say, a T-Mobile "Sidekick" phone, it was actually unacceptable to text another man. You were seen as "gay" if you texted another guy, just point blank.

The current political-correctness madness that has consumed mainstream media and quarantined many of our inherent rights to sarcasm might cry, "homophobic!" but really... Secondly, I made it a point to ask a girl to senior prom in-person. I felt I would be less of a man, and in fact a total pussy, if I had done this digitally, so I did it in person. I drove to the girl's house where she was having a party, and asked her face-to-face (with my friends watching on, and laughing to themselves mere feet away) in her parent's basement. It was nerve-wracking, but hey, I survived. She. said. yes. But back to exposing the crimes against human interaction that Facebook and other "social media" have perpetuated.

How about social media as a means to improve "Networking?" This is a way for the Facebook marketing team to divert focus away from the fact that Facebook is at it's core, a place for men to pick up women, and women to attach themselves to the status or image of a man. I guess, if the woman herself is already successful as a business entity, she could use social media to promote her business, as a way to potentially increase earning power. At this point she wouldn't even need to attach herself to a man's status, unless it was from a fame (or even more shallow, aesthetic) standpoint. That girl that doesn't message you back is for damn sure hitting "REPLY" on the David Beckham message in her inbox.

David Beckham reading his flooded MySpace page inbox.

Once Facebook opened up its doors for everyone, the paradigm shifted. The plausibility of someone's family vacation photos being on there entered the picture. The other major difference had to do with the ability to post more text. What were static pages, turned into an endless "feed" of status updates. No thanks. As far as I'm concerned, using Facebook as a way to "take a stance" on some political ideology is a laughable and sadly, generic way for some guy to appeal to the opposite sex by way of a digital post. But hey, whatever works. If blasting an, "I love Hillary Clinton!" status update ultimately gets you some action, or helps you posture yourself into some sort of political expertise... isn't that what Facebook was made for?

Why does this feel so right?

To reach somewhat of a conclusion: social media is almost entirely about status. Men don't think this way, but women do. Women love to attach themselves to a man's status. You see it all the time. It would be misogynistic if it weren't so damn true. For instance, consider Michael Kay. He has a giant head, a brutish approach to vocalization and loves the dorky statistics and history of baseball. What are the odds, if, instead of being the announcer for the New York Yankees, he was a janitor at a road-side McDonalds in Tuscaloosa? Would any woman besides an overweight hooker take any interest in him? Better yet, what if he didn't even have a Facebook page? It's all about status.

Michael Kay, announcer for the Yankees.

On the flip side, the male perspective looks like this. I'll just remind everyone of the "Message Me" button that is present on every platform. Pictures like this come to mind, for me at least.

Hayley Williams, from the band Paramore.

Like any guy, I see this, and the "Message Me" button and my mind immediately goes into a full-blown mode of...

A meme based off the movie, "Dumb and Dumber."

But, there pretty much isn't. And that's another reason why I keep leaving social media. It creates a false reality. You trick yourself into thinking that an opposite-sex celebrity, or someone from your distant or even short-term past really is in the room there with you, meanwhile, they could give less of a f*ck. Add in Las Vegas-esque dopamine incentives for you to continually engage, and after a while it takes some strength to rip away the fingernails social media has sunk into you.

When you consider some of the realities of what Facebook (and Instagram) really are up to, it's a no-brainer to get the hell off it it. They're trying to manipulate your thoughts, and slowly but surely stripping you of the ability to fully express yourself. Most people are way too casual about granting permission to these social network behemoths to manipulate their inner-dialogue by means of exploiting their innate need for social acceptance.

But what are you willing to give up in order to be accepted by others? What started as a dating website has now transformed into something that wants control over your thoughts. In other words, it's a f*cking disaster, no matter how aloof you want to be about it, or how uninformed you are towards it or how little you pretend to care. You're just fooling yourself.

The last social media site I was active on was Instagram. Once Facebook bought it out, I knew it was just a matter of time until it was stained with a vicious algorithmic dye. Mark Zuckerberg's insatiable thirst for money and power is finding it's way into your manipulating your emotions for increased corporate revenue. Money you'll never see. And to think it all started with some pictures from a night out  at the local bar. Me? I'm done with social media. But hey, YouTube's still cool. Everything else? No thanks. - Mike