Me Thinks I'm a Little Scared

We stumbled into Saginaw early enough to dump our gear at Meinberg's and then high-tail it to Mt. Pleasant so we could make Black Flag's late afternoon all ages show at Tom Foolery, which, on a good night, couldn't (shouldn't) hold more than 75 attendees, tops.
We could not miss this. When would we ever be an hour and a half away from a Black Flag performance ever again.
I'm not sure we were properly prepared for this, at least I wasn't. I wouldn't call their show life changing but I definitely left thinking I'd just witnessed something very close to otherworldly. Never had I taken in anything so disturbing in terms of darkness, intensity, malice and rage... they were not of our farming community.
The band; Greg Ginn-guitar, Kira Roessler-bass, Anthony Martinez-drums and the skimpy black-sweat soaked running short and nothing else clad-maniacle Henry Rollins who, fully tatted (including the monolithic SEARCH AND DESTROY back piece), delivered a most ferocious performance.
Perhaps the lyrics from Black Flag's spoken word epic Family Man, will give you a sense for their subtle brand of melancholy.

Henry: Do you want the family man or do you want the swingin' man? You choose.
(family man)
You get the family man.

family man
FAMILY man
family MAN
with your glances my way, taken no chances on the new day
family man,
family man with your life all planned
your little sand castle built,
smilin' through your guilt
family...man
here I come.
here I come family man
I come to infect. I come to rape your woman.
I come to take your children into the street.
I come for YOU family man. family man,
with your Christmas lights already up,
your such a MAN when your puttin' up your Christmas lights, first on the block.
family man.
family man, I wanna crucify you to your front door, with nails
from your well stocked garage, family man, family man.
family man.
Saint dad. Father on fire. I've come to incinerate you
I've come home.

We arrived in Mt. Pleasant with the giddy anticipation of catching our first truelly Hard Core show and left thinking any smidgen of feaux cow-punk street cred we had was quickly relegated to poseurville.

An eyewitness account of LA Hard Core
Additional information taken from Get In The Van
Lyrics from sing365
Photo from MySpace.com/HenryRollins