Stagedive

If I stage-dove normally instead of jumping into the void feet first we wouldn’t be having this discussion, at least not in this form. This is my fault, in a way. Always jump hands out, head first. Make it easier on the person catching you. Union Transfer, Nails, sometime in the early spring of 2017 — a whirlwind of limbs and sweat, ear-ringing sonic spasms choreographed to the obscene humanity of Philly’s finest collection of angsty hardcore kids (including yours truly) and beer-swilling metalhead headbangers. Union Transfer is a brilliant venue, acoustics rivaling concert halls twice its size, but its one terminal flaw is that there is a barrier separating performer and crowd. For 99% of bands playing that’s not really an issue or concern. But I was seeing Nails, not so much a band as a triumvirate of pure anger given human form and access to a Boss HM-2 guitar distortion pedal. This was less of a concert and more of a heavy metal pilgrimage, with a support bill full of bands with names like Full of Hell and Gatecreeper — what I’m saying is, the atmosphere wasn’t exactly watching opera. Under low, crimson lights, Philadelphia’s coalition of punks, moshers, and longhairs were taking the physical idea of a barrier and turning it into, at best, a suggestion. Kids flew. You had to get a good running start to clear the barrier from the stage, but once you crossed the gap, flying through the air felt like freedom.