Tampa Calling

It was ridiculously hot. It took me 15 minutes to realize that my white wife beater would become my face towel for the day. It was loud. It was colorful. It was my first time at Vinoy Park. And finally, at the age of 24, it was my first time experiencing Warped Tour.

It’s been three years since I attended a music festival and as I walked through the ticket line into a field filled with tents, stages, beer stands and even a slip n’ slide, I instantly recalled why I love outdoor fests; passing through the gates meant entering a world of the unpredictable and the unexpected. I didn’t know what kind of crazies I’d come across (there were bound to be some amidst the 10,000 attendees), what kind of new music I’d hear, or how pleased I’d be with the bands I was there to support.

The second thing I love about music festivals is people-watching. Scenesters were everywhere. I saw blue hair, purple hair, mohawks, rainbow socks, mesh shirts, ripped shirts, patched pants, asses hanging out of daisy dukes, bikini tops, all kinds of neon clothing, hundreds of tattoos as well as band shirts ranging from Minor Threat to Run-DMC to Hank Williams Jr. It was refreshing and entertaining.

I’m not going to lie, I was only interested in seven bands playing at Warped — Bad Religion, Less Than Jake, Streetlight Manifesto, Bouncing Souls, NOFX, Flogging Molly and Shooter Jennings (a surprising addition ) — but I was disappointed to find that the latter three acts fell off the line-up. However, Flogging Molly still had a merch tent set up, which Greg Graffin — lead singer of Bad Religion — made sure to knock at the end of Bad Religion’s set. Quite hilarious.

After arriving, my friend Zach and I checked out a couple of bands we’d never heard. I was able to tolerate the first, Chiodos, for about five minutes. Though the band seemed to have a solid fan base, the music just wasn’t for me; I’m not into the hardcore, scream-your-head-off fare with moments of melodic singing sprinkled in between.

When I asked a young girl the name of the next band I saw, she replied, “I set my friends on fire.” I stared at her with what must have been horror and contemplated whether or not she was on acid. “I’m sorry, what?” I asked. She replied, “The name of the band is I Set My Friends On Fire.” I laughed, thanked her and walked a safe distance to check out the two-man band from Miami. I only caught about five minutes of the show, and the music wasn’t memorable. Although, the one thing I did like about ISMFOF — and something I noticed at a few other stages — was the band’s intense energy and easy engagement with the crowd.

I found out the name of Cash Cash from a red-headed girl with cute freckles and braces, which should have been a warning sign. One of the musicians had a keytar so I had high hopes that the band would be better than the last two I’d seen. The members’ colorful attire and spunky attitudes perfectly correlated with their catchy, bubblegum, uber-pop sound. After listening to two songs, Zach summed it up perfectly: “They are the next stage of evolution for the boy bands.”

It was 3: 45 p.m.; time for Bouncing Souls.

I like Bouncing Souls, but it was my friend Zach who was eager to see them perform. I started out with him in the pit, but the second the push circles and moshing began, I backed away in fear of smashing my good camera and breaking my neck. Bouncing Souls delivered big for their fans, opening with “Kate Is Great” off 1997’s self-titled album. They also played cuts off Hopeless Romantic and How I Spent My Summer Vacation. I was happy to hear “Lean On Sheena” off their late, The Gold Record, because it’s the only Bouncing Soul song I know every word to thanks to its overplay on Sirius Radio. At the end of the set and in the middle of a song, vocalist Greg Attonito had fun with the crowd when he declared he was doing a first at Warped Tour — asking the audience to be as quiet as possible. “Everyone wants us to be loud, so we’re asking you to be quiet,” he said. It worked. The crowd was silent. He added, “Well done everybody, thank you, we appreciate it,” and then the crowd began devotedly clapping in sync and the song started back up for a strong finish. Zach’s description of the show: “Fucking brutal.”

Less Than Jake (LTJ) immediately followed Bouncing Souls. This was my third time seeing LTJ and the band was as good as ever. The musicians came out to the Star Wars theme and then picked up the tune with their own instruments. Trombonist Buddy Schaub never ceases to amaze me with his electrifying energy. He was all over the place, interacting with the crowd and loving the fans’ rowdiness. At one point he ran around, spraying the crowd with a water gun (pictured at left). I wondered how he had any breath left to play the trombone. As the band launched into “The Science of Selling Yourself Short,” I had a surprising revelation: I’ve always loved lead vocalist Chris Demakes, but for the first time I realized I’m more partial to bassist Roger Manganelli’s vocals. The Gainesville band had strong support from family members who’d turned out to see the show. Demakes’ mom (who appeared at the last LTJ show at Jannus) stood stage left and sang every word to every song — it was so endearing. Demakes’ mom wasn’t the only one singing along — of the two St. Pete policemen behind the barricades, one appeared to hate his job while the other sang along to LTJ’s tunes when he thought no one was looking.

LTJ’s setlist included: “Sugar in Your Gas Tank,” “Last One out of Liberty City,” “All My Best Friends Are Metal Heads,” “Help Save the Youth of America from Exploding” “Scott Farcus Takes It on the Chin” “Look What Happened,” “The Ghosts of Me and You” and “Conviction Notice.”

After LTJ we had an hour to kill before Bad Religion and Streetlight Manifesto. We took the opportunity to sit, cool down and take it all in. The Truth.com tent was having a contest to the sounds of Spice Girls and Aqua — it was bizarre and out of place. As I watched dirt that had turned into mud drip down my leg, I finally paid attention to the band that was playing in front of us, SET IT OFF from Clearwater. They were my favorite “new” band of the day, their songs catchy without being obnoxious. The musicians performed amazingly, breaking it down hard on stage.

At 6:55 p.m., we headed over to see Bad Religion.

I was psyched. I think it’s cool to see any band that’s been around for almost 30 years, and apparently so did a lot of other people. Bad Religion pulled one of the biggest, if not the biggest crowd at Warped Tour. After it started raining a couple minutes into the show, Graffin declared that whenever they play, it rains, because someone “up there” doesn’t like Bad Religion.” I got a good chuckle out of that one. The band was phenomenal. Graffin’s voice hadn’t changed; whether he screamed or sang melodiously, it was flawless. As much as the rain sucked, it was worth it to stick out the show. The set included “Infected,” “21st Century (Digital Boy),” “Requiem for Dissent” and “Sorrow.” On a side note, “Sorrow” was the last song I karaoked and let’s just say it was a real buzz kill for the crowd.

It was still raining when Bad Religion finished; a slight chill had replaced the unbearable heat. There was one band left I wanted to see — Streetlight Manifesto. I became a fan of the ska band over the past year and quickly fell in love with their first album, Everything Goes Numb. The band played a short set and there were some technical difficulties with the microphone. During a crowd favorite, “Here’s to Life,” the mic went completely dead, but the fans made sure to fill in the void with the appropriate lyrics. Even though lead singer Tomas Kalnoky’s vocals weren’t as strong live, the band was on point. There is something about Streetlight’s horn section that makes me want to dance … and I did.

My first Warped Tour experience was a blast. However it did somewhat defy my idea of the unexpected and unpredictable (at least when it came to the crowd): I had no exciting random conversations with strangers; I witnessed no fights or streaking; I came across no obliterated drunks; and I smelled weed less than five times. Maybe those are good things.

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