Atari Teenage Riot

Nottingham Rock City - The Rig

October 19 1999


Revolution.

No, it's not the end of a mighty fine Queensryche album, ha, that'll screw some people up, but it's time for the REVOLUTION. Atari Teenage Riot style.

The Revolution will be accomplished by sober people.

Well it will with Rock City charging 3 quid for a bottle of the old Newkie Brown and 2.50 a pint. Just thought, if they're charging that much for a gig, what's it going to be like for the millenium. Best get your life savings ready.

The Revolution will not be seen.

Because The Rig is such a low venue, the band are there, but can't be seen. But they can be heard, oh boy can they be heard.

The Revolution goes up to 11

As they arrive on stage, the low ceiling means that I can feel my hair moving due to the shock waves passing overhead because of the insane volume this is being played at. People are holding their ears. Me, I've got the old earplugs in. Hey, I know what tinnitus is like, and if you want a revolution, your better off without it. Even when they spit, they spit on 11.

The Revolution is thrash.

Wonder what the various people are here for. The music is intense, a constant barrage in your face, pummelling and punching. The rhythm is all techno or whatever, full on, 500bpm at it's minimum. But I'm here spotting the thrash riff in amongst everything. The Slayers and the Fear Factory donations. Destroy 2000 Years Of Culture, but remembers it's Not Your Business. Some may be here for the politics. "Anarchy". "Revolution."

The Revolution is temporarily halted.

"Fuck the barrier" comes the cry, and I get worried that we're about to witness people fucking the barrier in the name of revolution. Thankfully they didn't, but the barrier proves a hurdle (sorry!) in things. "You're the revolution" they cry. "Yeah" some cry back "but we need women in the revolution". "Yeah" is the higher pitched cry "that's not enough" we are told. The revolution is temporarily halted.

The Revolution will be instigated by people in all manner of shirts.

There's some NIN, a bit of Medulla Nocte, some Sick of it All, a Paradise Lost, me being Neurosis, there's even some people that wish to be Rachel Stamp and Brian Molko. The revolution is full of different people. But not that many dance afficianados.

The Revolution is machine driven.

The revolution is still loud, oh yeah, piercing and full on. Yet it's weird. Because the intensity is coming from machines, it doesn't feel real. Maybe it's just me, there's nothing wrong with machines, but this revolution doesn't feel human, and those bits that are, well, they're simply sloganeering, not revolutionary. I feel despair. I think. Depends if I'm programmed for it.

But like all things, it must end. The Future Is War, and a musical holocaust appears to have just drifted over my head again, the hair being raised by the sonic blasts competing with the limited space.

The Revolution is over by 10pm

Well, it's time for Rock City to become a club again, 'innit!