I know a second superhero post was due sometime back…And I apologize. Things have been hectic and far, far too surrealistic lately. Stigmata performed for the Sun FM Birthday Bash on the 6th of July and it was PHENOMENAL. I am not talking about the fact that Stigmata played and slayed with a killer one hour set. It’s about something beyond the intricacies and obvious results of a stellar gig (See…How much faith I have in ourselves)…It’s about the beauty and reality of that day.

Sun FM invites Stigmata every year to perform at their events, and that’s all good. But let’s look at the mass mediocrity of mainstream electronic media. The station won’t touch or play our music with a bargepole…It’s a mainstream radio station that has a very large market share. This year proved to be different, with a new team and a new events/brand manager depicting a higher degree of professionalism than the ‘pop cultured’ institution has ever had on display. It was a well organized event, with a lot of attention gone in to detail and it was all cool.

Save for the integral fact that the rest of the artistes ranged from pop purists to hip hop/rap acts and in between were one or two talented bands, doing their thing. So we hit the venue at about 3 in the afternoon and finally had a sound check well after 5…That’s all fine. Sounds are great, the band sounds like venom and vitriol spat out of a speed train…Some good friends and family (891 brothers & sisters!) there to make sure everything goes as planned. Then we leave and prepare to arrive at the venue about 15-20 minutes before we are on.

All of us head out to change and we get a call or two (from some of our Saints who had reached there early) saying the place was dead. We get another call saying we have to be on in a bit, so we prepare and a great many of us journey to our dear destination. Now it is no hidden fact that as a group/set we are all pretty fucking tight. We swim together, drown together (sometimes fuck together – depending on how exquisitely inebriated we all are) and pretty much live our lives revolving around each other…And there’s beauty in such madness you see…The beauty of unforeseeable commitment, the beauty of passion integrated by a great many who bleed in black and rationalize with a touch of realism by our side…the beauty of knowledge.

Knowledge is a wonderful thing ;)

We all travel in different vehicles, finally get to the venue and while many of our own are still finding their way in, a handful of us walk in to see how things are. Yep…Place is pretty fucking dead alright, save for a handful of people in groups – some who nod at us in acknowledgement, some who smile – and a great many… Hope you’re ready for this…

Scattered packs of individuals adorning clothes at least 5 times their size, Big shoes, Big caps, Big ridiculous wrestling belts (yeah…like the WWE ones), Big fake gold chains draped around their upper bodies…Very Small brains :crazy:

Like a clothed set of hyenas spread out all over the place at the Sri Lanka Exhibition & Convention Center. They all poke each other with terrible smiles wreathing on their prosthetic faces that they look like a toothpaste commercial, and start making odd gestures (paroxysms or epileptic seizures) and they stare at us with such enmity and hatred in their eyes…We love every second of the attention and just walk past.

The opening band for the evening continues to dish out classic rock ‘n roll tunes and we all get ready. Slowly but surely, the venue starts to fill up bit by bit. And then the Sri Lanka Exhibition and Convention Center suddenly cradles individuals with long hair, piercings and tattoos. Outcasts from the norm…Individuals scattered all over just waiting for their own to take the stage and end this ridiculous circus tirade of posers and cross culture hypocrites.

As we are gearing to open the lungs of Hades to some very unsuspecting people, tidings reach our ears that some of our own were being bothered by some hip hop clowns. You know THEY break dance all over the place and they’ve (rather ignorantly) blocked the path or way of some of our guys and girls minding their own business and just walking into the venue. That’s adding insult to the proverbial truths of injury… The insulting notion that we are surrounded by a majority of circus clowns.

How absurd they look. Dressed from head to toe like a stereotypic ‘rap star’ just minus the real gold and fortune. We also got wind of one or two ‘clowns’ continuously annoying some of our ‘891 Ladies’; a fatal, fatal error on their part. The clowns are lucky to still depend on their circus pension. Anyone who is worth their salt knows rather clearly that no one fucks around with 891…Rock ‘n Roll…or its hard edged – don’t even think of fucking annoying us you ignorant little shits – Women…No joke. These women could rip the k-nutz of Godzilla if need be.

Stigmata takes the stage and things take a turn. The majority on the floor just up the front of the stage start to literally shrink… Before the clowns can figure out what in Hell is going on, packs of Wolves and She-Wolves (a fitting tag to battle the ‘dawg’ and ‘bithez’ mentality) flocking from all over the place. Very soon 3 ridiculous jackasses remain upfront while the rest of the floor, now turned into a PIT for outrage, chaos and fun continues to stare at the losers – who out of sheer ignorance haven’t noticed that their peers have faded into the background, just ornaments and numbers in the name of en event. These 3 morons continue to make obscene gestures and utter remarks (that were obviously lost in the flood of sound & thunder) slowly began to realize that their peers had vanished and they were surrounded by an ARMY of Metalheads, Rock Fans and Music Enthusiasts that looked hungry for some crushing fun. To cut a long story short, the 3 buggers were caught dead center in the PIT and were utilized as pin balls for some time.

RIP: no one knows what happened to them after that :>

THEY were still the vast majority. But with the exception that all of THEM – those impressed, those filled with even more hate – just stopped everything they were doing and just watched…THEY watched as the Rock ‘n Roll Community ripped THEIR bubblegum world asunder. Everyone beat as one, everyone that mattered at least. We bled our faith and conviction of our alma mater on stage. Our family – the fans, friends and others integral to our survival proved that REAL families stay together…Through thick, thin and hurricanes. We were all a hurricane that day…The great unveiling of an anti-trend of skill, dedication, passion and purpose…

Stigmata was a voice for the entire Rock ‘n Roll Nation that day. But the people there to support Stigmata were what amplified the statement, the fact, the knowledge that Metal of today is something that is loved and embraced by freaks with imagination, intelligence, innovativeness and uncompromising persona.

We closed our set with ‘March of the Saints’ and everyone marched to the intro, building the anticipation and adrenaline…Hair standing for the electrifying atmosphere… The FREAKS saved the day. One pulse, one united spirit, one soul with no boundaries. Caste, creed, race, ethnicity, color…None of these mattered. What mattered was that we were there for each other.

Guess that makes me a FREAK.

I ain’t got no leash… But I am proud to know that all of us bleed and beat as one ‘cos we are all so different, with compassion for realism… Everyone else was just the same.

Let’s pick…Be a joke or be a Freak? Hmmmm… Wow, that’s a tough one. Why pledge your entire life to imitation and being something you’re clearly not? We know that Rock ‘n Roll isn’t for everyone. And that’s one of the reasons it’s so darned special.

Oh it was a historical gig. The day Rock silenced all its critics. The day WE all showed that Metal ain’t a pastime for many of us. We carry its flag to our graves.

We left ashes in our wake. No, sorry…In their wake rather.

Where’s my MOTHERFUCKIN’ leash ya’ll?

Rock ‘n Roll will never die. It just chooses to rule the world whenever it feels like >:-[

\m/