“Everything’s horrible anyway, so let’s go to a squat and listen to powerviolence!”

A week ago, a handful of us Enslainers had a planning session [otherwise known as “we drank beer”] at Enslain Headquarters, and we noticed that a curious and relevant musical affair was being held early that Wednesday evening; curious because it was apparently occurring at a “squat” somewhere nearby, and relevant because several friends (crust punk pummellers Pelkotila from Helsinki, and powerviolence à la Tallinn-based Sociasylum) would be performing at the event.  We collectively decided that it sounded just peculiar enough to warrant our interests… and it was BYOB, so it wasn’t much different than what we were doing prior!



Upon arrival, it was immediately apparent to the four of us that we were just a tad bit out of our element in that scene, and I’m quite sure we looked like squares to the couple of dozen other attendees scattered about the floors of the dilapidated building.  Yet, that was part of the mindfuck of the night, and we had a blast!  Rather than write a report about it, here are some random impressions from the Enslain FlaskForce:

“…walking in and looking around, I felt uncomfortably urbane and remarkably clean.  After leaving, I felt like I needed a flea bath!”

“flickering lights, writings on the wall and people passing out on the floor made me think that there’s a squatter deep inside of me wanting to break free”

“the door to enter the graffiti-painted squat was locked, and after some hooting, a sketchy guy opened the door asking for a password, and us not having one, the door was closed again.  For a good ten seconds we had a huge “WTF” sign above us until he finally opened the door doubtfully and let us in laughing.  Thanks for that, jerkface!”

“it says “Scab Eater” on the wall, this can’t be bad!”

these were some anarchistic anti-life crustcovered punks”

“despite the deficit of a PA in the confined space of that squalid squat, Pelkotila managed at times to manifest a massive sonic resonance that consumed the room”

“holy shit it’s a poltergeist!”

“I couldn’t help but question whether I had just awoken in a made-for-TV movie about the origins of hardcore punk, with all the expected caricatures populating the space, studded and gyrating with reckless abandon.”

“mesmerized by the brutally brilliant playing technique of Sociasylum’s drummer, I was unable to hear or see anything else during the entire show… That’s what I call a true musician-crush!”

“the strong and aggressive performance by Sociasylum really made me feel alive, and I couldn’t care less about the possible upcoming hearing loss in that tiny but extremely loud room.”

“after the show we needed beers so we went to ‘the bar where the crazy people always go’.”

…after hearing that there was a couple apparently engaging in intercourse on the floor at the back of the room:  And I put our beers on that floor during the show!  Whyyyy!!!” — “Luckily they were in a plastic bag…” — “It was like a condom for beers!”

And here’s some cats getting brainfreeze, which bears striking resemblance to our expressions as we entered the squat:

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