Theres a kid outside theDrug Churchshow who looks like a character from one of their songs.
Maybe his date ditched him.
Maybe his friends didnt show.
Patrick Kindlon (in orange) and Drug ChurchManuel Barajas
Or maybe he, like many folks in the New Yorkhardcorebands discography, is just down and out.
Inside, the mood isnt quite as dire.
Their latest single, Chow, drops today.
(There was even an eight-year-old in giant headphones sailing through the crowd at one point.)
In between all that, hes been recording music and dreading the press cycle.
Despite the fact that hes been in bands pretty much forever, Kindlon approaches the work extremely casually.
And thats not because Im a genius; I can only really work if I know were losing money.
I just have to have pressure.
Because as Kindlon himself will tell you, he is not the least bit musical.
Thats probably evident from how I sing, he says.
And what does that mean?
Ill be like, Its got to be a little more glide into the chunk.
So, no help for anyone, right?
Everybodys got their job.
Strong fences make good neighbors.
Im very sympathetic to things just going a little out of control for you.
I stare at those missing kid things, at the truck stops, at the grocery stores and everything.
I get very sad, he says.
There was no reason to doubt that my parents loved me completely.
Thats probably why Drug Churchs music is so appealing to its ardent fans: because Kindlon gets it.
I just mean to say that theres something inherently scary about being known.
I hope nobody talks about my music when I die, he says.
He loved us very much.
I bet the kid on the curb could relate.
