“Music has always been a matter of energy to me, a question of fuel. Sentimental people call it inspiration, but what they really mean is fuel. I have always needed fuel.” – Hunter S Thompson
Fuel was exactly the need that propelled 2,000 souls, on a dreary grey crisp cold evening, to wade in line outside of an antique former movie house in Detroit’s theatre district. Detroit is always gloomy, even the sun has given up on this city. Hell, so has most of the world. Some of us still feel her pulse. Some of us will travel to feel that pulse. A fight to the death, or possibly from it, wages all around here. We come because we know at the pinnacle of our evening our pulses will match, and that does more than refuel. It awakens you.
Its a moment worth traveling for, worth waiting for. And wait you must. In the wait there are moments that are the stepping stones to that great refuel you so crave. 4Arm warms the crowd up, and joins in on the “FUCKIN’ SLAYER” chants that seem to be perfectly timed with a lull in energy.
Gojira leave their print on your eardrums in their catchy precise and melodic way. Their energy flowing through the crowd setting the first sparks to be ignited. 18 songs into an old school onslaught, the stage goes dark. The crowd is heaving in unison, suddenly the stench of stale beer, pot smoke and b.o. hit the sense and reel it all back in. The spot one is in is as pinnacle as the moment itself. If you are 2 steps to the right or a tier back you may miss it. But not tonight. Body pressed against the steel barricade with all 2,000 fuel craving souls at your back, half a dozen bodyguards and a few marshall stacks are all that are between you and the thunderous roar of the first chords of “South Of Heaven”. It sounds like war, deafening and exhilarating. If you weren’t alive before this moment, you sure the fuck are alive now!
Batteries at full charge. GO!