It’s lucky that it’s an under 18s night tonight, or we wouldn’t be here, and Hadouken would be playing to a big black room, empty of florescent jumpers and pogo happy fans. My mate Michael couldn’t get in. Even after his mum phoned the ICA to say that she knew he was drinking and that it was ok; it wouldn’t wash with the bouncer. So what use are parents eh?
I like it that Hadouken always play under 18 gigs, I like it that they sound like nothing in my dad’s, or even my big brothers music collection. I like that it’s not all that emo metal crap, yet I can still mosh and jump about along with everyone else. Although the singer raps, my mum doesn’t mind, because it’s a white guy who’s rapping, and the less hassle I get from her the better. Hadouken may be around only as long as I want to wear bright purple but I like that. It’s about tonight. And there’s nowhere I’d rather be. It’s book that as long as I want to listen to simple music, played by pop stars my age, who instruct me when to jump up I down, then bands like this will be here for me. Isn’t it about how much I enjoy it rather than how good the music actually is? It’s my opinion that really counts. And isn’t it me that pop music is supposed to be all about?