The Epic Punk Rock Show

The concert was epic. That is the only word to describe it. Absolutely EPIC. Filmstrip warmed the crowd with their nu-punk sound. In the crowd you had faces of the cast and crew of The Taqwacores. You had scenesters that had come to Park City from across the country, and you had new faces – people that had just seen the movie or happened to be at Sundance and wanted to see what the hype was about. It was a comforting feeling to look across the sea of faces and seeing so many people here to support the band.

But it was when Al Thawra got on stage that things really got wild. A crust punk band out of Chicago, as they played through the first few songs, people just kind of bobbed their heads. Then they played this one song. I don’t remember who started the pit, but the front of the stage exploded in a moshpit frenzy. Everyone was in it, from Mike to Eyad to Volkan to Daniella to Nav to Dom.

That circle pit energy carried through the rest of Al Thawra’s set and into The Kominas set. Everyone was bouncing as The Kominas jumped on stage. Everyone was having a good time. Shahjehan jumped into the crowd, Basim brought his mic down to the floor and eventually by the end of the set everyone was on stage singing along with The Kominas. From the people, to the music, to the general amazing vibe of the space – the show was simply epic.

The reporter Chris Maag came up to me super ecstatic and sweaty right after The Kominas set. We were both shouting each other, our ears still ringing from the amazing show. “Oh my god! Can I be a groupie? I totally want to be groupie!”

I laughed. Chris was in his mid-thirties and looked about as straight laced non-punk of a reporter as they come. But he had rolled up his sleeves and joined the pit with the rest of us. He had traveled with the band in their tour bus from Boston to Park City, looking for a story. “What happened to the whole being a reporter and keeping your distance from who you are writing about?” I asked.

“I know, I did say that. But I traveled with the band across the country, and these guys have become my friends. I learned to appreciate them. They aren’t just a punk band on stage. It’s deeper than that! We got into an accident together, we are brothers, man! I just had to jump in the pit and rock out, I had to support them!”

“I know, right?” I replied. I recognized the light in his eyes. It’s the same look I saw in Rakesh and Marvin, the documenters that had followed The Kominas on their summer tour, and in Omar Majeed, the director of the Taqwacore documentary. “It’s hard to explain to people what Taqwacore is unless you experience it. But once you experience, you just know. You know?”

“Totally!” he responded, his eyes flashing. I knew that look in his eyes.  He had just been taqwacored.