Arian Murati STAFF WRITER
Check out Arian's current band Pushing Mongo and download their latest EP Nature vs. Nurture. Or read more posts by Arian.

I've decided to stop planning ahead. In typical college student fashion, I will write my posts hours before their due dates, hungover and too lazy to proofread. I think this will work well with my demographic: hungover college students.

Now, to keep it fresh, this story is from 24 hours ago. Seriously. My band played a festival in Nyack, New York. It's a very nice town, nice to the point where it's strange, but I'll get into that later. I parked and unloaded our equipment next to the venue, and then sat down for a bit. It was 10 in the morning, and I hadn't slept the night before. All of a sudden, one of the promoters comes outside and yells, " Who is driving a Honda Fit? It's about to get hit by a garbage truck!" Just my luck, right? I run over to my car, where I am stopped by an angry man in a wife beater.

In an incredibly thick Russian accent, he asks me, "Can you read sign? It is English. NO PARKING. This is unloading zone for garbage truck. I call police next time." Irony aside, I moved my car and looked for a parking spot. There was a cop running the meters as I was scoping out a spot, he called me over and pointed out a free parking spot for me, which is incredibly strange considering the police officers where I live are, well, dickheads seems to be an appropriate term. I thank him for his kindness, and walk back to the festival.

There was a little area outside that was set aside for the bands, with a barbeque going and enough grape drink (that's right) for everyone. This is a crucial moment for any festival where you don't know the other bands. This situation is no different than the African grasslands (Not the jungle. Fuck you Axl Rose). You look around and size up the competition. You can see another drummer (a weakened gazelle) unload his kit and think, "Pssh, what a bitch", or see the headliners (the lions) roll up in their fancy, record-label-having vans with a trailer full of delicious equipment. I tend to keep to myself in these kind of situations, you know, kind of like the fucking cheetah. Don't mess with cheetahs.

About an hour into the show, (they never start on time) the first band goes on, and they actually weren't that bad. Nah, I'm kidding, they were terrible. We were playing exactly an hour after they took the stage, so I went and organized our merch table. Again, I am back on the grasslands. The lions have the big table, and I get half a fold-out table. I'm not too concerned, however. The only thing we actually sell at our shows are t-shirts. CD's, pins, and stickers are all free, the way they should be.

Now it's go time. We take the stage in front of a roaring crowd. Not really, but I can dream. In all seriousness, it was a great crowd. People started coming in to listen, and there were a few photographers on hand. My brother (who is the bassist), jumped on one of the stage speakers and kicked it in, but no one noticed, which was great because we can't afford to replace them. When people come to see a show, you better put on a show. After the set, we were greeted with an unexpectedly loud applause, along with the standard "I LOVE YOU!" comment that comes from a close friend. Once again, don't mess with cheetahs, because when you don't expect it, they will shred a guitar in your face, and your face will melt.

After we packed up, I pulled my car back to the venue so we could load back up. As soon as I left my spot, someone snaked in and took it, so I had to drive around and look for another spot. I finally found one in a not so friendly area. There was a bunch of gentlemen, all coincidentally wearing the same color (isn't that neat?) congregating outside one of the apartment buildings. Me being the idiot that I am, chose to wear the most flamboyant shoes ever created (see picture). Yes, those. I practically asked to be heckled, so I was. "Look at whiteboy's shoes!"

When I got back to the show, I met a girl (Sha-wing!) who liked our set. I gave her some pins to hand out to her friends. I thought that this would start some sort of chain reaction, with everyone coming to me for free stuff, but of course it didn't happen. It never does. Don't let this stop you, though. Get out there are do work, son. I went out with our bag of pins and handed them out until I noticed that I inadvertently pissed off the band performing onstage by handing out my pins to their crowd. Whatever, this is musical Darwinism. You do what you have to do.

Overall, I'd say that the show was a success. We went out there and rocked some faces. Keep in mind, if you manage to get one person to like your stuff and get your CD, you've done something. They will go home, upload it to their computer, and send it to their friends, and so on. It will start a chain reaction, with everyone trying to get your music, and it always works!


Want to tell Arian what you think or ask a question? Leave a comment or email him at arian.staff@popsense.com