Random Thoughts

by Arjan van Exter

The Story of Internal Bleeding and the rubber chicken

Many, many years ago, in a land far, far away, there was a death metal band that did things differently than what people were used to from a death metal band. They incorporated different types of riffs and strange tempos. These youngins decided to call the new style of death metal they created “Slam”!

As the years went by, albums were recorded, gigs were played, old band members left and new band members came. The band became legendary, their albums cult and the style got copied. But what they didn’t know, was that a monster was lurking in the shadows. A monster they had created, they were feeding and it was gaining power. A monster called “The circlepit”.

Now before everyone starts bitching about the fact that Internal Bleeding, death metal, New York or whatever has nothing to do with the origin of the circlepit, please let me clarify something: I don’t care… Internal Bleeding and “The circlepit” used to be brothers in arms. Wherever Internal Bleeding would perform “The circlepit” would be there… Vicious…Brutal…Relentless… Causing massive internal bleeding… Until “The circlepit” came out the closet. Until “The circlepit” revealed its favorite color was pink. Until “The circlepit” admitted rather going to a Barbra Streisand show than a smelly, sweaty death metal show. Until the first imbecile decided to enter “The circlepit” with a rubber chicken.

Since the rubber chicken infected “The circlepit” the slam scene changed. Or did the changing slam scene introduce the chicken to “The circlepit”? Or was it “The circlepit” that needed the chicken to change the slam… eh… Whatever the case, since that damn chicken began running in “The circlepit” it was joined by inflatable dildos, men in tutus or thongs, confetti, balloons… It even came to the point that people weren’t allowed anymore to bump into each other anymore. Not that I’m very keen on bumping into sweaty, hairy men wearing nothing more than a thong, but it does seem some of that old school magic is gone for good.

Now don’t get me wrong, I like slam. Both old school slam and modern slam. But I do blame slam for introducing the chicken and therefore ruining the old school moshpit experience. Some may find it strange I love a music style that’s ruining the live experience for me. But I also love hamburgers in spite of the fact that they’ll probably give me a heart attack. I also love beer in spite of the fact it will fuck up my liver.

At this point I’m struggling to reach a conclusion. Do I blame Internal Bleeding for people dressing up as bananas at death metal festivals? No. That would be same as blaming a clown for your heart attack or blaming barley for liver damage. No, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I truly hate rubber chickens…

Random Thoughts Archive:

The Story of Internal Bleeding and the rubber chicken

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