SHOW ME THE BODY TURN THE FONDA THEATRE INTO A HARDCORE MELTING POT
I had a plan. Even before I arrived at the venue, I was plotting how this piece might come together. I thought I would start with a couple of broad, generic statements, something like:
Despite making music for almost two decades, Show Me the Body lurks at the periphery of mainstream music. Over four full-length albums, the three-piece outfit from New York City has cultivated dedicated legions of fans worldwide. Their sound defies traditional labels, blending punk, hardcore, metal, and hip-hop.
But after tonight, I decided to start over. Instead, I was left with many more questions than answers: Is hardcore the most diverse genre of music? Why don’t more shows have a DJ between sets? Why are hardcore and metal fans the friendliest people? Side note: have you heard SMTB’s cover of Charli xcx’s “Rock Music?” Do yourself a favor and check it out; it’s incredible.
I arrived at the Fonda Theatre in Hollywood half an hour after doors opened and found a surprising number of concertgoers already gathering in front of the stage. Four bands were on the schedule, so these folks were in for a long night. While waiting for the first set, I chatted with a few people and discovered I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of any of the openers.
Truck Violence, from Montréal, Québec, opened the show and set the stage for an explosive, eye-opening evening. Vocalist Karsyn Henderson could be solemn and restrained during his spoken-word passages, then erupt moments later, writhing around the stage with emotional intensity as the band blended folk, hardcore, and sludge metal into a sound that resisted easy definition.
In a night of many firsts, I also discovered that the Fonda has an upstairs patio when I met up with a friend for a brief respite between performances. (How many years have I been coming to this venue?) When I heard the PA rumble, I rushed back downstairs to find a lively circle pit already forming on the main floor.
Brooklyn electropunk band Lip Critic took the stage, bringing a frenetic, manic energy you have to experience to fully appreciate. With two drummers, a bank of samplers, and no guitars in sight, their sound is hard to describe. Vocalist Bret Kaser’s rapid-fire, staccato delivery matches the music's pulsing rhythm. Bonus: their website is modeled after the infamous Pirate Bay. IYKYK.
Another trip up to the patio, then another run downstairs to catch Whispers, who came all the way from Thailand to grace Los Angeles with their particular brand of “Bangkok Evilcore.” They could probably be described as the most “traditional” hardcore band of the evening, but they were still brutal and hard-hitting, with menacing guitar riffs and in-your-face vocals. Though I committed to shooting photos from the pit all night, I stayed along the outermost edges during their set, lest I catch an errant roundhouse kick to the head or torso. I’m not a small guy by any measure, but I’m not as sturdy as I used to be.
Between sets, Peruvian-American artist and DJ TECH GRL blasted neoperreo and reggaeton tunes through the house speakers, keeping everyone amped up and entertained. It was totally unexpected but much appreciated, and it brings me to my next point: hardcore and metal fans are some of the warmest, most caring, and most diverse people in all of music. Whether it’s striking up a friendly conversation with a stranger, picking someone up when they get knocked down, or protecting an idiot cameraman standing in the middle of a mosh pit, I will die on this hill.
After Whispers, I lingered near the front of the stage to get a good spot for Show Me the Body. I was not ready for what lay ahead.
The house lights dimmed, and three brass players quietly walked onto the stage. They began playing the opening notes of “Overture,” the first track from the band’s latest album, Alone Together. This was the calm before the storm.
As the band transitioned into the ruckus of “Eat For Peace,” the entire floor erupted. Sweaty bodies rained down from above while a mass of flailing arms and legs churned behind me, everyone screaming, “Radical love! It compels me to fight!” in unison. From that point on, the rest of the night blurred.
After working through a handful of new material, the band dug into a wealth of cuts from their previous three albums, with frontman Julian Cashwan Pratt delivering a fire sermon to the willing fans, complete with his guttural barks and grunts. The slower tempo of “Arcanum” gave everyone a brief chance to catch their breath before the band ratcheted the intensity right back up. Although they are known for their raw, aggressive sound, they show flashes of tenderness in their music. On stage, Julian took a moment to lament the loved ones he and the band have lost over the years. For the final song, drummer Nijol Benjamin stepped out from behind his kit to take over vocals. Then, almost as quickly as the chaos began, it was all over.
Walking back to my car, I had a lot to process. Folk and sludge metal gave way to samplers and dual drummers, then Bangkok hardcore, reggaeton, and finally the magnificent chaos of the headliner. The audience was as diverse as the music on the stage; all ages, backgrounds, and scenes converged in the same place. But once the house lights dimmed and the music started, all those distinctions disappeared. We danced, screamed, and crashed into one another. The older I get, the easier it is to think I’ve seen it all. Hardcore reminds me that there’s always more to discover, as long as I’m willing to look.
