The Mic's very own Features Editor Roxann Yus found her own way to celebrate International Women's Day this year - by hopping on a plane to see American metalcore band Bad Omens in Bristol. Roxann shares with us her experiences from the night...
What else would an international woman do on International Women’s Day if not fly from Germany
to the UK to catch a very sexy performance? Oh, and better yet – try this out as a solo experience.
What a woman!
But behind the façade of a confident woman with a unique excitement to be surrounded by
exclusively English-speaking people (for the first time in five months), was a clutch bag of nerves.
Don’t tell the internet though – this isn’t the sort of woman anyone wants to hear about anymore.
I planned to get there a little bit late, but what does anxiety do? Make me get there early. Ugh! I
wandered down some lukewarmly familiar roads to SWX to find, of course, an intimidating meander
of people, friends, and partners queuing for over 100 metres. I waited in the queue on the phone,
talking all sorts of nonsense to pass the time. But coming from this cluster of strangers was the comment from behind me: “Oh wow! Her jeans are so cool!”. I turned up
wearing some hand-painted jeans from my newest collection of what-techno-does-to-a-person.
But, as I turned around, it appeared I wasn’t supposed to hear that comment. But I sure did feel
smug. And, in fact, much more confident walking into the venue – confident enough to end the
phone call prematurely! What a woman!
I found a comfortable spot to stare at my empty phone until the first act came on. It felt like I was on
the flight all over again; illogically looking at my photos and phone settings as if they were
important, unavoidable business. But, in all honestly, the time passed me by pretty quickly. After 40
minutes of folding my arms and unfolding them again on repeat, Kid Bookie stepped on stage and
very much commanded that my confused arms raise into the air with my middle finger up. Behind the
significant message of their request were also the nerves present in my body language subsiding completely.
Kid Bookie’s unique demand for participation was a brilliant way to invite us all mentally into the
space. Now, all that mattered was the music. The past 40 minutes were irrelevant (except for this
article, of course).
The simple summary of their performance would be: chaotic. Whilst the more complex summary
would be… actually, still chaotic, but also shameless, politically-infused, charismatic, thoughtful,
commemorative, and self-aware.
"This podcast-music mixture made me feel completely human, and better yet, surrounded by humans and humanity."
Not many acts command a stage like this, especially in the context of live music. But somehow two
acts on the same night expressed these qualities. Oxymorrons (2 Rs, not one!), prided themselves in getting to know their audience and wearing their hearts on their sleeves. It is very rare to have such
extensive commentaries from bands, but this one found it fundamental. And now, I couldn’t agree
more.
All the way from NYC, Oxymorrons found it completely necessary to introduce themselves and their
ethics to us, interweaved, of course, within their contagiously energetic music. I had heard a few of their songs before, especially since I’m such a big FEVER 333 fan. But my little knowledge was humbled by the re-education they gave me on how greatly impressive they really are. This podcast-music mixture made me feel completely human, and better yet, surrounded by humans and humanity.
And although, by the beginning of the supporting acts I already felt a lot more comfortable, after the
stripped humanity presented to us on stage, I actually felt confident. They sparked the parts of me
that make me human and individual – I started to feel the way I do when I’m most engaged,
interested, and passionate, which in an era of digitalisation isn’t always easy.
Now, fully committed to being a human instead of a cyborg, I couldn’t wait to see Bad Omens (whom I claimed had the best album of 2022 in The Mic’s print). The pit opened up to faces both pleased and
absolutely terrified. Mine? I just couldn’t direct it away from Noah. This man, my God. And yes, I
invite you to read that as me both shocked by his entity, but also me calling him my god.
"The jumping, moshing and screaming felt like a religious sacrifice to the band."
This modernly religious cult-like band were backdropped by motif-infected visuals and
cinematography – some of the best I’ve ever seen, actually – certainly on a similar level to Static
Dress. The jumping, moshing and screaming felt like a religious sacrifice to the band. So now after
Oxymorrons’ example, we were wearing our hearts on our sleeves. We’re good cult members, aren’t
we?
And in atypical cult fashion, I escorted myself a little early. Noah’s insane vocals made it hard to
leave, but my newfound confidence told me to listen to my brain (since my heart was now flung off
my sleeve to Bad Omens anyway). I indulged in doing what would make me feel most comfortable,
especially since I had anxieties about getting back home.
But as I left, I felt very appreciative of indulging in this experience and letting both heart and brain
have their turns. International Women’s Day was a success: my clutch bag of nerves in the bin, my heart thrown to Noah Sebastian, but my brain intact to write this article and demonstrate how bloody
brilliant women in the music industry are.
Roxann Yus
Edited by: Izzy Morris
Cover and in-article image courtesy of SWX Bristol on Facebook.
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