Back in 2009, I went to my first concert: Senses Fail

It was October 1st. I remember I had a black hoodie on, and it was a bit chilly out (as it often is in Buffalo, NY).

My Dad drove my older brother and me to an indoor skate park, Xtreme Wheels. It's closed now. No one really knows exactly why; I've heard quite a few rumors, but nothing was said. No major announcements.

I remember being kind of nervous, being my first show and all. I was 15 and I was devoured by Metallica and Blink 182 at the time.

At that point, I had listened to a few songs by Senses Fail (they now have a heavy rotation on my iPhone), but I wasn't at all a hardcore fan.

I don't really remember how it came to be that my brother asked me; maybe he couldn't find anyone else to go with, maybe he knew I needed to experience a concert. Either way, I'm glad I went.

Walking in I was instantly struck by how many people had tattoos. At the time, I attended a private Catholic High School and lived in a very Irish Catholic neighborhood. The only people I really saw with tattoos were on tv, in music videos, older gentlemen who served in the army, and the occasional "odd person" I saw while out and about.

I don't remember much about what surrounded me. There was a strong smell of cigarettes, a lot of dyed hair and a very nice merch guy my brother bought a shirt from.

The stage was against the opposite wall when you walk in, with a small area for a crowd. It was blocked off on the left by a fence. The other side of the fence was the skate park, ramps and all. I watched more of the skateboarding and biking tricks than I did of the opening bands.

The first band, FACT, was from Japan. I barely remember their set, all I remember was how loud it was. Blaringly loud. Louder than anything I had experienced up to that point. I was almost in pain. It might have been an imagined pain, experiencing something so new and so reliant on attacking one sense all at once.

I looked up a YouTube video of their single at the time:

Their set flew by, it had to be 25 minutes. At most.

While they finished, my ears rang. I worried if I had permanent ear damage my mom had warned me about so often. Looking back, it's kind of funny to remember first hearing loudness. Guitars on 11 (to me), the punch in my chest of the bass drum. I was hesitant to get excited about the next band.

Closure in Moscow came up next. They were louder. I must've been on sensory overload from the loudness, it absolutely stunned me. I don't remember their set, if it was long or short, what guitars they played or even if they talked to the crowd at all.

The crowd got more packed when they finished, and up came A Skylit Drive.

This was different. Yes, they were loud. But, the crowd was responding to them. I saw my first mosh pit (not going to lie, it scared me at first), my first sing-alongs, cheers, screams, clapping.

I may not have liked their style, but I loved the feel of the crowd. The emotion, the love, and energy that encapsulated every note and word that came out of the stacked speakers.

Senses Fail set up. When the drum kit was set up, people cheered for the bass drum. It had SENSES FAIL in big bold letters across the center, on top of their current release at the time: Life Is Not A Waiting Room.

The crowd gathered close to the stage. Maybe 2-300 people there, my brother and I took our place amongst them slightly to the left of the stage, but further back, just to the left of the pit.

They came out to a roar of screams from adoring fans.

People moshed, sang, screamed, jumped, clapped, smiled. All of a sudden the loudness stopped attacking me and it embraced me. It wrapped me tightly, massaged my back and assisted my heart in beating to the tempo of each song.

That loud punching kick drum felt good. It didn't hurt, didn't scare me, it welcomed me.

They tore through their set, maybe an hour long before they reached the 1 song that I knew the words to. Calling all cars.

I sang those few words like they would be the last words I would ever say. That was the concert for me, that one song right there. The one song I knew the words to, began the addiction. It pumped me full of energy I had never felt before.

My brother and I walked into the cold night where one of our parents (I have no recollection of who) waited in the car to drive us back home. My ears were buzzing, my mind and heart were still racing. It might have even been sprinkling snow that night, I don't recall if I'm imagining that or not. I felt as peace; as if I was cleansed.

I couldn't hear, and my voice was sore from just one song, but it began the spiraling addiction that will last until I die.