I'm running late, my hair is damp, I have no makeup on and I've spent the last of my cash on a cab to the Sound Academy. The ATM is inside, the ticket seller tells me, and I can't go there without a ticket. “Really?” I ask, perplexed. I can hear the Class Assassins playing their first song, “Without Warning.” I'm told to walk back to Cherry Street, to hit the ATM in the grocery store there. “Seriously?” I ask. I explain that the Assassins' set will be over by the time I get back. I meet with no flexibility. I walk to the bank machine. I flirt with the idea of not coming back. I picture the audience raising their fists and singing along with the Assassins' boisterous anthem “All the Way.” When I do return, the opening act is done. Ah yes.
A couple of beers later, The Bronx arrive on stage, bringing their metal-tinged strain of hardcore. A bit of headbanging is making me feel a little better and yelling out the lyrics to the third song “Heart Attack American” (“Watch me explode / There is no revolution / And I'm done doing things I don't want to do / There is no restitution”) is cathartic. Singer Matt Caughthran has some pretty fun rock-star jumps and the similar-looking guitar players, stationed far left and right like bookends, are cool to watch, but the true central force in this band is drummer Jorma Vik, who thrashes and pounds his way through the set with passion and grace.
Bad Religion start with “21st Century Digital Boy” and the evening is salvaged, entirely. Poetic and profound lyricist, Ph.D and vocalist Greg Graffin sings beautifully (all these years of practice pay off, evidently), leading the band through old classics (“Anesthesia,” “Stranger than Fiction,” “No Control,” “Come Join Us”) as well as more melodic and poppy new material (“New Dark Ages,” “Requiem for Dissent”). It is rare to see a band so full of joy — they seem thrilled to be able to play for us, and inspired by the songs and each other, after 28 years of doing this. It is a remarkable thing to see.
During the encore, Graffin, lead guitarist Brian Baker and the world's most cheerful looking bass player, Jay Bentley play “Dearly Beloved” on acoustic guitars. Graffin then performs the first part of "Bored And Extremely Dangerous" solo before the band picks it up and the crowd goes wild. The set, which has lasted almost two hours, closes with the rousing “Generator” (“Like a fucking atom bomb / I'll remain unperturbed by the joy and the madness”) and the beautiful “Sorrow.” The chorus, “And there will be / Sorrow no more,” floats around the throbbing, packed auditorium and sticks with us all the way home.