First Person
From Hasid to Headbanger
Crowdsurfer. (Photo: flickr/Mavis)
My left leg was throbbing, just below and to the left of my knee. This was my lone varicose vein and it acted up every time I felt anxious. Now it was waging a full blown attack.
I was here to see Evanescence on their “Carnival of Madness” tour, and it was to be my first metal concert. I had never been much of a concertgoer. In fact, other than a Chazak concert in the Catskills five years ago and another one sponsored by my kids’ school—which featured Shloimy Gertner as the sole performer—I was a concertgoing virgin.
I had driven 150 miles to get here, and as I drove up alongside the outdoor music venue and saw the crowd lined up to get in, my anxiety rose. It was as if there was an unspoken rule: You had to have tattoos to attend, and the more the better. One guy had a tattoo that curled around his scalp and onto his forehead. Others in the crowd had piercings on every conceivable body part. Even my t-shirt was lame—simple black with two areas of white and gray; no heavy metal bands prominently featured, no slogan that told the world to “Give me head until I’m dead.” Never in my life had I felt like such an outsider.
I turned into the parking lot, and my vein felt like it was going to burst. The crowd grew more colorful: girls in fishnet stockings and pink hair, scary-looking guys with clean-shaven or spiky-haired heads and ominous-looking goatees. These were the people I had been taught to stay away from. Growing up as a Chasidic kid in Monsey, contact with outsiders was kept to a minimum, but we reserved a particular kind of horror for people with tattoos and unusual body piercings. This was an aversion more primal than the mere Biblical prohibition would suggest. We could see our parents and grandparents shudder and look away as they avoided anyone with body ink.
Maybe I should just leave, I thought. But I’d come all this way. Turning back now would just feel pathetic.
“Do I have to keep the ticket on the dashboard?” I asked the parking attendant. He just looked at me in response, as if I’d asked a stupid question.
Despite my anxiety, I felt thrilled at the fulfillment of a dream. It had been nearly a decade since I’d left the Chasidic world. My Yeshivish-born wife and I had moved away from Monsey soon after we married. By now, I had already graduated college, worked among non-Jews, wore jeans and t-shirts regularly. But I’d never been to a rock concert. Evanescence had been a long-time favorite and I chose them to pop my cherry.
I entered the venue and looked around. Look purposeful, I thought. Don’t just stand there. Move. Find a place to sit. Pretend you’re comfortable here.
The concert took place outdoors, attendees sprawled across a sloping field of grass facing the stage. I found a place to sit next to a couple in their forties. The guy had longish hair and was speaking loudly to two girls in their 20s a couple yards downhill about the good old days when he would jump fences to get into concerts. His overweight wife laughed loudly at everything he said.
Finally the music started. It was loud! Louder than any rebbishe chasuneh I had ever been to. “Ear-splitting” wouldn’t even describe it accurately enough. I thought my head would explode. After a few moments, though, I felt the vibrations from the bass go all the way up my arms and legs, and I began to love every second of it. Finally, I had what I had come for.
The opening act was a band called New Medicine, whose high energy set had me so pumped that I looked toward the crowd in the mosh pit, thinking momentarily to join them. One glance at the pit, however, and I gave up the thought. There was something freakishly wild-looking about it, as if the crowd was prepared for some serious violence. What was I, after all, but an aidele yeshiva bochur? I would never fit in.
But the music was too fierce, the atmosphere too boisterous to keep from getting swept along with it, and I soon felt back in the groove. The pain in my leg had mostly subsided, and I found myself focusing less on whether I belonged and more on the things I did or didn’t like about the music: I liked the sheer rawness of it, their ferocious screaming. I didn’t care for their rap-style tempo, which I thought jarring.
I began to notice something else: this was less a homogeneous crowd than I’d initially thought. A stocky, twenty-something girl, wearing a neon pink blouse, sat alone a couple yards downhill. Not far from her sat a middle-aged man in khakis and a light-blue button-down. A black couple—the first non-white people I noticed—wound their way among the crowd looking for an empty spot on the grass. Not everyone, I realized now, had piercings in unnatural places or snake-tattoos wrapped around their arms.
A man who looked to be in his 50s, with long shaggy hair wrapped in a colorful bandana, danced nearby with his arms flailing wildly, and I marveled at his lack of inhibition. This was a man truly living in the moment, lost in the music. I was reminded of a man who davened at my childhood Chasidic shtiebel, a man who, like Reb Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev, would start his prayers on one side of the room and end up on the other, entirely oblivious to his surroundings. These fervid types, I realized, exist in every group, and something about that thought was comforting, realizing the degree to which societies are often as similar as they are different.
Other bands followed—Cavo, Halestrom, Chevelle—and at some point crowd surfers started pouring over the barricades. Each successive band sounded better than the preceding one and eventually I stood up and moved closer to the stage, tapping my feet to the music, occasionally making eye contact with people around me. To my surprise, I received open and inviting looks. Even the metalheads seemed willing to rub shoulders with the clean-cut types. No one was looking for a yeshiva bochur to beat up.
Evanescence soon came on, and I found I had wandered right up to the pit. It no longer looked so intimidating. I wanted to be close to the band, to see Amy Lee’s face as I took in her electrifying vocals. The people around me seemed to be there for the same reason.
For the next hour I sang along at the top of my lungs, waved my hands like a crazy person, stamped my feet to the beat, moved out of the way when crowd surfers were launched into the crowd, cheered louder than I’ve ever cheered before.
It was an unforgettable experience.
During the drive home I felt euphoric about the change that had come over me in the space of six hours. Later that night, as I lay in bed, my ears still ringing from the music and my left leg with the bad vein all but forgotten, I knew I could do it again. Maybe next time I might even bring myself to speak to a few people. Maybe even to someone with a tattoo.
Printable Version
Come on, it doesn’t come close to that “special” euphoria we all feel during the hakufes
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The truth is I thought about the hakafos while I was at the concert and although you’re joking, you’re also right; the kind of excitement we feel on Simchas Torah or Purim is self induced, as are the feelings at a concert.
The difference is; I went there willingly
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“This was a man truly living in the moment, lost in the music. I was reminded of a man who davened at my childhood Chasidic shtiebel, a man who, like Reb Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev, would start his prayers on one side of the room and end up on the other, entirely oblivious to his surroundings. These fervid types, I realized, exist in every group, and something about that thought was comforting, realizing the degree to which societies are often as similar as they are different.”
This was the soul of the piece and really hit home. What a wonderful account. Thank you for sharing.
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That’s right, I was joking, but I also tried to point out exactly that. It’s human nature to get swept up, and it has nothing to do with “hechere” zochen
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- if it wasn’t for heavy metal I wouldn’t have met my chasidish husband. Don’t waste time with those bands – they are watered down commercial bs., those bands suck, no offense. You should check out Teihu. And Dark Tranquillity. And Iron Maiden. Also check out gevolt.com and Yidcore.
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Aviva,
Although I don’t consider any time spent listening to Evanescence a waste of time, I am happy to discover new bands.
I don’t claim to be any kind of expert in the genre, I used to like country music, then pop, then rap, then classic rock and finally hard rock.
Currently my favorite band is Disturbed.
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i remember my first as well. i still had long curly peyos at the time. half expecting (and half hoping) to get into a fight, as i had been warned by all my friends that “all these people who go to metal concerts are neo-nazis”. what i discovered instead was a mob of the craziest, friendliest people ever. it was a korn concert and it was the most diverse crowd my boro park raised eyes had ever seen. i was blown away by the brotherhood and camaraderie that i saw there. everyone looking out for each other, and instant friendships ensued. even in the big scary moshpit, if anyone fell everyone stopped to help him get up… it was a day i will never forget…
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> And Iron Maiden.
Yeah, so underground. Who ever heard of Iron Maiden?
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Re skinheads, when I was wee lad I had debates with my friends about whether the crowd at an Agnostic Front concert was going to be a bunch of skinheads that ate yeshiva boys alive. Turns out . . . not so much.
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Thanks S. The trouble with me was; I went to the concert alone and so I had to take both sides in the debate
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LOL I’ve been to plenty alone. Most of my co-concert-friends wanted to see mainstream stuff, e.g., Nirvana, Soundgarden, but I also enjoyed going to smaller clubs and the like and many times I went all by myself.
I think the more you realize that anarchic riots don’t actually happen regularly at high energy aggressive rock and roll shows, the more you get past the anxieties that every fiber of your education and cultural immersion instilled in you/I. Of course I haven’t actually been to a concert in years. I think the last one was Piamenta in Brooklyn College in 2006. Maybe they do kill each other at shows now, who knows?
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I’ve heard plenty of underground stories of people killing each other at Piamenta concerts! In fact I suspect that’s why rabbonim have been banning concerts left and right. On the other hand Piamenta may be an exception because they are a rock band, at least according to the New York Times, and if that’s the case, the rabbonim should be made aware of this distinction so that they don’t ban Lipa who shouldn’t be faulted for what goes on at rock concerts.
http://www.nytimes.com/1998/08/10/nyregion/rocking-all-night-in-hebrew.html
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What an accomplishment. I am awe struck
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I hate to nitpick, but Evanescence is definitely not a metal band. Kinda goth-pop. The author’s head would probably explode if he went to a real metal show.
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[...] From Hasid to Headbanger (Unpious) [...]
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[...] The first could hardly be called a guest post since the site is not a blog, it’s an online magazine, the stories on there aren’t blog posts they are essays and they are edited and polished by the able Shulem Deen; I am of course talking about Unpious. The story I wrote there, like everything I write when I write with a serious face is a truthful account of my first attendance at a rock concert. Since this story takes place post-kollelI didn’t publish it here. So without further ado I link to you the story From Hasid to Headbanger. [...]
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As a veteran of 400+ concerts let me recommend you check out the music of the Grateful Dead. While not a metal band or “hard” rock band, though their name would imply otherwise, their lyrics and music has had a way of eliciting extremely spiritual musical moments. Grateful Dead concerts had traditionally attracted a large Jewish following, probably more than any other rock band. In my 250 + Grateful Dead shows, the presence of even Orthodox Jews with Kippot was not unusual. While no longer touring due to the death of lead guitarist Jerry Garcia in 1995 the surviving “core four” continue to tour in numerous incarnations, the best right now being the band Further, consisting of bassist Phil Lesh and rhythm guitarist Bob Weir. They’re touring each spring, summer and fall. I encourage you to check them out. You might find yourself feeling comfortably more “at home”. In the meantime שנה טובה.
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Well I fucking love metal! All genres from power metal to death metal. Huge props for you braving the mosh pit! I know that feeling of collective power and camaraderie unparrelled in other music genres (sorry mr.grateful dead fan) even though evanescence isn’t really my definition of raw energy but nonetheless for the mainstream music enthusiast metal is metal. (not that I have a problem with people who like pop)
Rock on brother !!
P.s. Hakafos with drunk chabadniks is probably the closest you’ll get to metal show lol
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Hey I would love to join you on your next trip no man should ever be alone I have never done it before but hell there is always a first the first time I went to a movie I felt so dirty what would my family think (true grit ) since then I’ve learned to live for my self
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Hana,
Good for you for learning to live with and for yourself, True Grit wasn’t any kind of dirty movie (which I’m sure you know) and worrying about your family’s opinion doesn’t make you any cleaner.
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I didn’t say true grit was dirty but going to the movies where untill then I only watched at home and yes it is good to live for myself its a little scary climming a moutin with out ropes but I guess I have to trust myself and not go to high untill I feel ready to take the next step
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The sense of transcendence that one feels at rock concert is the most telling thing about this article. There is a soul in all of us. It is ready to fly. Its stuck in the body and wants to break free. However many of us do not know how to turn on its engines, how to fly, how to feel. To truly sense it, to truly feel it.
Beyond the writers teenage-like cultural comments of the “scene” at the concert, the essence here is that the concert experience for many people is a profound spiritual experience. Perhaps this writer has been feeling spiritually dead and is not able to feel his neshama through davening, learning and mitzvos. Therefore a concert like this is like quick engine rev up for him. A way to ignite the sleeping soul.
If this experience can go beyond the simple cultural musings and OTD dorkiness he offers and be a vehicle to ponder the soul connection he feels when he hears this powerful music, then the experience can be a great way to awaken and ignite his neshama and connect him to even deeper spiritual delights.
It is a well known fact that for many now observant, G-d loving Torah Jews, music was the beginning of the journey into Torah life. It allows us to recognize that we have a soul.
The question now is will he connect with the soul aspects of this experience or just stay in the parking lot with all the guf aspects.
Will he stay in the lobby or enter the banquet hall?
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Emes Rocker:
New policy as of this moment, created especially for you: No kiruv.
Unpious is a place for stories, personal reflections, and meaningful discussion. It is not a place for mean-spirited judgment and obnoxious proselytizing disguised as an attempt to save souls.
I’m leaving your last comment up (and your scores of other ramblings spread across this site), since they were posted before this notice, but in the future, please either engage with other readers/writers, or refrain from commenting. If you need additional assistance with this, please refer to your kindergarten teacher’s instructions on playing nicely with others.
Thank you for understanding.
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No problem. I did not realize this would be seen kiruv. I don’t even know what the word kiruv means. Is it hebrew? It is just a reflection on music and the soul. Sorry to offend you. I certainly was not trying to be mean and don’t really understand what you meant by mean-spirited. I hope that you have a nice day.
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“I don’t even know what the word kiruv means. Is it hebrew?”
Cute.
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Really…seriously. Kiruv?!?!
Who knows who is close and who knows who is far? It’s the silliest word ever…That’s what I meant.
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Is that really what you meant Rocker? Is that why you asked whether “kiruv” is Hebrew?
“… and don’t really understand what you meant by mean-spirited.” The first part of your second and third paragraphs were mean-spirited, the second half of each, as well as your entire fourth and fifth paragraphs were straight up kiruv. That’s probably why it was “seen [as] kiruv”
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Yes who is close and who is far , how can we know. So it oculd be the “dorky OTDer” Shragi is close and you are far. But then maybe Shulem is really the close one , so let’s listen to him , but what if really i’m close and Shragi is far , and Shulem is in the middle , and your in between Shragi and Shulem. #adabsurdum .
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I’ve got no use for heavy metal, but I found this strangely moving. Thanks.
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Which kind of demographic go? The kind of people who play golf?
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