I spent most of my teen years at the Grogshop, Beachland Ballroom and my friend's basements slamdancing to a plethora of punk bands, most of whom knew at least two chords. Since going to Oberlin, a college and town whose population has an affinity more for a critique of pathos rather than a passion for punk rock, I've really missed the sheer mass of bodies, and the energy that partners the critical mass. Tonight, in the hallway outside the theater, I experienced a body memory in the truest sense. The hallway was so packed that I started waiting for some distorted, crackling guitar to come out of the loudspeakers. Instead, in an arguably similar fashion, I hear our lovely volunteers with bullhorns taking stand-by folks to their various films of choice. While this may not sound so pleasant to all who are reading, I have to tell to you the energy is incredible. You should really get down here today and see/feel what it's like. It's also rather fitting that I'm about to go see a film about Muslim punk rock.
Josh Davidson is a sophomore at Oberlin College. This is his second year blogging for the CIFF.
Posted by Josh Davidson