Wednesday, 28 November 2012

The K-Tizzle Sizzle - Judge Judy? Judge Katie More Like...

Court is in session.

Judge Judy? Judge Katie More Like...
by Katie Langley

I love live music. I love the swell of anticipation from the crowd in the moments before the show begins. I love letting the music wash over me. I love the shows which absolutely blow my expectations. A twisted part of me also loves the shows where it’s like watching a train crash (Ben Lee, anyone?). But my absolute favourite thing to do is people watch (read: judge).

Having an eclectic taste in music, and a somewhat “open heart open mind” policy means that I’ve been to all sorts of concerts from Job for a Cowboy, to Crystal Castles, to Prince, to Static-X, to Aqua. The latter is much to the embarrassment of some of my friends. I don’t want to name names, but one of these people actually owns the single “Freestyler” by the Bomfunk MC’s. Enough said.

I have never felt like I belong to any particular group. I’m not a hippie. I’m not a punk. I’m not an emo. I’m not a hipster. I’m not tan-o-rexic. Yes, I wear a lot of black, but goth I am not! I feel like I sit somewhere outside of all of these groups, which means I’ll quite happily pass judgement. Hey, don’t pretend like you don’t either.

Hed PE
@ The Hi-Fi  (2012)

It wouldn’t be too much of an exaggeration to say that I was one of 10 women at this concert. At first, this excited me. The expression sausage-fest sprang to mind. But it wasn’t long before I realised that this explosion of testosterone was not a good thing.

Looking around me it became apparent that I was rubbing shoulders with all of the white boy wannabe gangstas of Brisbane. There was a common theme of baggy Dickies, trucker caps, and a whole lot of aggression.

I started feeling really uneasy, and with good reason. Some idiot came charging through the crowd, walked right up to a man standing near me, and punched him in the face. How this didn’t descend into an all-out brawl I’ll never know. What I do know is that I was very grateful of the company of my tall beardy bud Brendan.

Hed PE fans.

Hed PE crowd judgement: Angry white boys. Steroid takers.

@ The Arena (2003)


I jumped on the AFI bandwagon following the release of “Sing the Sorrow”, and was ecstatic to get a ticket to this concert. Oooo, Davey, I looooove you. Or something.

I muscled my way to the second or third row, and had a prime viewing position. To this day, it remains one of my favourite concerts. There was electricity in the crowd that is hard to put into words. So much so, that a grown man in front of me literally started weeping. Actual water. Actual tears.

AFI crowd judgement: Emotional. Onion cutters.

@ BEC (Last week)

Now, I’d like to make it clear that I didn’t actually attend this concert. I happen to get off at the same train stop as the Brisbane Entertainment Centre. I didn’t realise until later in the evening that Nickelback were playing, but on the train ride home I did notice an increase in the number of white jogger wearing people.

As I got off the train and started walking to my car I stumbled across a “gentlemen” pissing near my vehicle. Charming. Just. Charming.

Just your average Nickelback fan.

Nickelback crowd judgement: Bogans. Animals.

@ RNA Showgrounds (2011)


It’s true, I have a love of cheesey r’n’b and hip hop. They don’t call me K-Tizzle for nothin’!
I can honestly say that I have never felt so out of my depth in a crowd. Apparently I missed the memo on booty shorts and midriff revealing tops. Needless to say, the comfort and sun safe option (jeans and long sleeved shirt) had me standing out like a sore thumb.

There was a lot of grinding. A lot of skin. And I even saw some nipples.

Look, don’t get me wrong, Snoop Dogg might get me to drop it like it’s hot (badoom-tish), but there’s no way I’m showing him my nips.

Supafest crowd judgement: Skank ass ho’s. Ho’s from different area codes.

@ The Arena (2007)


The Hellyeah crowd are a drinking crowd. They get knocked down, and they get up again. Repeat.
I knew I was in for a big night when I met a man named “Hellvis”. Yes, he was a heavy metal Elvis complete with mutton chops and a cape.

I know I had a good time and was flung around like a fool with the rest of the crowd, but the specifics are somewhat blurry. Needless to say, the night ended with me vomiting on myself. Always the sign of a good time, right?

Hellyeah crowd judgement: Drunks. Blank.

@ The Tivoli (2006)

Mid-way through Devildriver’s set I felt my arse being squeezed. Initially I thought it was an accident. But then, the squeezing continued. This was no accident. Now, if you’ve ever been to a Devildriver show you’ll know that there are a lot of burly dudes with long hair. This may not excite you, but it sure does make me happy. So imagine my surprise when I spin around in anticipation, only to find a goth lady decked out in her finest PVC giving me a sly grin as she says “well hello, sweetheart”.

Devildriver crowd judgement: Perverts. Lesbians.

Skrillex. Just your average Lesbian.

And what does this say for me? After all, I’ve been to all of these shows! Pervert? Sure. I’ve been known to leer and make inappropriate comments. Skank ass ho? Yep, sometimes. But bogan? No. Remember, I wasn’t actually at that concert.

You have entered the courtroom of Judge Katie. The concerts are real. The crowds are real. The judgements are final.

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