As our wayward journeys on this erratic earth progress I think a time comes when we learn to accept that certain events are inescapable. We are going to be swathed into situations that are awkward and uncomfortable, and there's nothing much we can do about it other than just let it slide. I believe that we have adopted a certain tendency - whether this is culturally specific or not I don't know, but it does seem like a very 'British' habit - to sweep things under the rug to avoid said sticky predicaments. Sometimes it's just not worth making a mess over because scenarios are awkward and beef is seldom necessary, but there are rare occasions where I won't let shitty people get away with being shitty for my own peace of mind.
I went to see Circa Waves at Heaven on Wednesday night (19th November) to: a) see a band who play great music, b) spend time with a good friend, c) boogie a bit on a night out, and d) maybe write something nice on here after. I did not go to see Circa Waves at Heaven on Wednesday night to deal with infuriating circumstances.
The audience were riled up by Public Access TV - a NYC jangly rock outfit (think Drowners or a softer, boppier Skaters). They couldn't have been older than 19 yet they proved to be more than capable to deliver an overwhelmingly impressive catalogue of steamers. Bleeding charisma and a light dusting of cocky charm, songs like In The Mirror demonstrated a future so bright that it became understandable why the guitarist wore shades.
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| (photo creds: tmrw magazine) |
Circa Waves, propelled to attention by Zane Lowe, are one of Britain's fastest rising bands who've toured with The 1975 and The Libertines so it was only natural that we wanted to move into the crux of the crowd. Though the set opened with stellar power tracks like Young Chasers and Good For Me, it took a while for the crowd's spirits to go from mildly pathetic to "that's a bit more like it" considering the vigour of the band's garage rock. Still, it was kind of nothing compared to most of the crowds I'd been in lately - meaning I'm more than used to having zero personal space, being pushed around like a rag doll, and sweaty bodies at every turn. Although I'm highly familiar with this kind of atmosphere, it doesn't mean I'm used to or in any way should expect to get my butt grabbed by a massive, excessively perspiring man.
Besides this week I have been groped once at a gig: I had just turned sixteen and was waiting to see Two Door Cinema Club. Admittedly this was one of the first proper gigs I'd been to (in terms of general admission madness), but it's not like I was unaware of the basic mechanics of how these things work. Long before Two Door Cinema Club had even started their set I could feel this boy behind me rubbing his hands up and down my legs and bum with the occasional soft pinch. To say I was incredibly uncomfortable and extremely embarrassed would be a severe understatement. Being only sixteen and unlikely to be able to defend myself against a nineteen year old boy, I kept quiet and pretended it wasn't happening while my sister continued to talk my ear off, oblivious to the problem at hand (I later revealed to her the grotesque nature of the groping once we were back home). Luckily during the show itself I was able to """accidentally""" elbow him in his cratered face, but that was the extent of my self-defence.
Times have changed. It is 2014 and I am not afraid of anyone. Especially not gross perverted men.
Why should I be subjected to sexual assault because I am a young girl at an angsty rock concert? I may be categorised as a fangirl because I'm a female consumer, but does my gender automatically mean that I do not belong at this event? That I must only be there because I find the members of the band aesthetically pleasing and not have any interest whatsoever in the music they create? Therefore I deserve to be touched inappropriately because it's 'all part of the experience'? Trust me, I have been to many a gig in my time and I can assure anyone with a shadow of a doubt that this is not a price that typically comes with the territory.
At first I thought it was an accidental encounter that followed the tides of the crowd. I gave the guy a dirty look, but realised it could have been unintentional so brought my focus back to the music and my own personal enjoyment. It often bothers me how stupidly naive and optimistic I can be; always hoping for the best in others when I'm consistently proven wrong.
The second time around confirmed that his actions were entirely purposeful. This time I experienced a full throttle grope in the area of my bum. I yanked his beefy hand away from me as his shiny face grinned at me. "You're a fucking disgusting arsehole!!!" I attempted to shout at him over the lo-fi rock. He chuckled in reply and reached for my waist again before I balled my hands into fists and hit him somewhere on his face as hard as I could. My hand couldn't have made a very large impact as I have as much upper body strength of a small child, but it was probably more of a shock to him that a female in a vulnerable position actually had the ability within her to defend herself. He called me a "little fucking bitch" but need I respond? I mean, I'd already replied physically to his threats - I didn't need to prove anything else to him because he now knew I was unafraid. (This is not the first time I've gotten into beef at a gig, but maybe those stories are for another instalment.) Arguably this action lacked common sense because who knows how he could've reacted, but thankfully I was able to relish the rest of the short but sweet showcase of Circa Waves' upcoming debut album assault-free, including the boppy delights of one of the year's strongest singles Stuck In My Teeth.
The fact of the matter is that I did something that I was proud of - besides the act of physically assaulting a stranger, I stood up for and protected myself. I've always been the kind of person that a few of my friends have said that they "wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of", but what does that say about me? For some it means I probably have too much attitude, but maybe it also means that I have the courage to not be pushed around and treated like a second-class citizen. Regardless of the fact that my bum is more inclined to the Taylor Swift rather than the Kim Kardashian end of the juicy booty spectrum, consent is always required before you so intimately touch a person (not that me or anyone else is going to say "yes" if you ask anyway). Especially with cases such as the Sam Pepper scandal coming to light recently, shouldn't men realise by now that women do not want your meaty hands on our bodies without our explicit permission? Would you want some strange chunky hand grappling at your groin area? It's ridiculous that I'm having to explain this. Accept the fact that gig groping, or groping of any kind, is not and will never be okay.
@acciogeorgia not cool! We'll have none of that at our shows.
— Circa Waves (@CircaWaves) November 20, 2014
(what definitely IS cool is that bands care)
What vexed me most about the incident was not even the fact that I was groped, but the possibility of other young girls in the crowds being preyed on by this giant gross loser. As music fans collectively unifying to celebrate something we all enjoy, shouldn't we treat each other with comradery and respect? Thankfully I taught that wasteman a lesson and he was put in his place, but unfortunately girls in the future will continue to be taken advantage of when they're meant to be having the time of their lives, and that's a crying shame. Concerts are supposed to be experiences that grow to become a part of us, not something tainted with venomous memories. We need to protect girlies, not endanger them.
