As I laid against the fig trees of Paddington Skatepark, I tried to come to terms with what led me to be here of all places.

I awkwardly looked around as I saw that everyone had came with their friend groups. All looked more "sceney" then whatever I was doing here. Before this, the only gigs I had been to were stadium gigs and a few chill gigs. I signed to myself. This was going to be a long and weird night.

Either way, I got up to the merch desk of this band called "Findaway". I didn't know who they were, but bought their shirt and CD anyways as it looked cool. The merch guy held this zine in his hand, which I recognised as being the Spew zine from Instagram. I asked him where he got it from, and he said from the author herself, who was also here.

I walked up to Nat, creator of the zine, and asked her a few questions. She was a pleasure to meet, and Nat, if you're reading this, thanks for serving as an inspiration for many other zine creators here. Not long thereafter, Findaway were at the merch desk, and signed CDs.

I bought a raffle ticket and headed for the stage. There was a big delay in the gig starting, as two of the bands dropped out mysteriously both due to "medical problems" although I overheard a conversation saying that one of the bands has a member that broke a bone, so I hope they're okay.

After waiting in the bushes next to the stage, the mystery replacement act was on. Klowde got the stage warmed up and moshing from the start, with them speeding through their punkish and pub rock setlist. Arran McKenzie from Piss Off, a band which I began listening to a long time ago, made a surprise guest vocal appearance, screaming into the mic so loud the speakers began clipping. By this point, me and the few photographers staying safe in the bushes weren't able to escape the moshing, and I decided to go moshing for the first time, entering the pit from the edges.

I was addicted.

It was utter gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh. As the attack of the guitars raged on, I realised that for the first time in months, I was alive. That band is playing, those people are jacking out their dance moves without a care about what people think, and I'm here finally living out what I wanted to do for years, but couldn't due to strict parents.

Klowde finished up their set with a nod to the Chats, a song called "I Like My Ciggies", where the singer used their guitar as a cigarette holder, and serving as a epic finale to a band that quite literally was a surprise mystery.

In the crowd I saw this person, who looked about dead clueless and looked like they just saw an atrocity happen. They were right beside me, and clearly didn't come knowing anyone. I asked them what they thought about the upcoming band, "Verminate", and he introduced himself as Deacon, who came just because one of his mates was in Verminate and told him to come.

This was his first ever gig, and so quite understandably a group of people slamming into each other and doing hardcore dancing looked like something from another planet.

Verminate was on,