Dead On Stage: A Eulogy for Hostage Calm
by Adrienne Fisher, edited by Erik van Rheenen
My 50th Hostage Calm show was supposed to be yesterday, Wednesday, October 8 2014.
In 2009, when I was 22 years old, I began to fall back in love with punk. I’d spent most of my college years on the outskirts of the scene I’d once loved, paying little attention to the neon craze and moderate attention to the legacy acts. But when newer bands began to bubble up and buzz through the comment boxes on AbsolutePunk, I dove straight back into the scene, hungry to find something that I wasn’t even sure I had been missing. I began to re-contextualize music and the community in which I’d always found comfort in the greater perspective of my life - and what I slowly started to realize, in those first fleeting moments where the idea of “Defend Pop Punk” was an actual mantra and not a goddamn joke, was that the people making the same kind of music that shaped and informed my formative years were now my peers. We’d come up through the same generational roadblocks, loved the same records as teenagers, and now were coping with the stagnation of contemporary life in the same ways - and the levels on which I found myself connecting to this new generation were more profound than even the emotional tumult of adolescence that colored my connection to music when I was a kid.
On December 23, 2010, I tweeted:
so @HostageCalm is saving my life today. prob because they are 1 band to which i have not yet attached devastating emotional associations.
Well, that sure jinxed it.