NONPOINT EVEN MORE OUTTA CONTROL TOUR AT 24 OXFORD LAS VEGAS with SPINESHANK & (HƏD) P.E.

2 days ago
8 min read

I grew up on 90s and early 2000s country and Southern Baptist gospel music. Then teenage me found rap, R&B, hip-hop, and nu-metal, and apparently decided my parents had gotten it wrong.

KORN, LINKIN PARK, SLIPKNOT, EVANESCENCE, and a whole collection of other bands opened up an entirely different part of my musical brain. That part never really went away. (HƏD) P.E., SPINESHANK, and NONPOINT aren't necessarily the bands I listen to every day, but they have always had their place when I need something heavier, darker, or just a little more pissed off. I had listened to all three for years, but I had never seen any of them live. So, when I walked into 24 Oxford on Saturday night, I wasn't there because I had one particular band I absolutely had to see. I was there to enjoy the show and, for the first time, try to do all of that from behind a camera.

That last part was new.

I had never worked an actual photo pit before, so the first few songs involved a lot of figuring out where I was supposed to be, where everyone else was supposed to be and how not to become a problem for the people who clearly knew what they were doing. Other photographers were moving around with the confidence of people who had done this before. Meanwhile, I was trying to decide if I was a tuna or a salmon and whether I was supposed to be swimming upstream, downstream, or apparently both.

It got easier. And then the music started doing what music does.

(HƏD) P.E.

(HƏD) P.E. hit the stage around 7:35, but Jared Gomes technically started the set a little before that. The band came out to what sounded suspiciously like “Back That Azz Up.” It took me a second to realize what I was watching. Gomes was using the intro as a soundcheck, testing things, making adjustments, and getting everything where he wanted it before the band actually got started.

It was smart. It was also probably the most entertaining soundcheck I have ever watched.

Then they came out hard.

Heads started bouncing almost immediately, and the crowd response carried from one song into the next. The stage at 24 Oxford is narrow, and there was still a lot of gear packed onto it, but (HƏD) P.E. made the space work. Gomes stayed mostly around center stage without ever looking like he needed to bounce all over it to hold the room. He was dressed almost like he could have been headed to the gym instead of a metal show: black tank top, black shorts, white crew socks, and what looked like Converse. Somehow, it worked. He looked comfortable, like this wasn't something he had to turn on for the night. This was just what he does. The lighting stayed mostly red and orange with bursts of white, which fit the darker side of the performance while still giving the band enough visibility to work with.

The crowd was already participating, but Gomes found a way to turn that participation into a full-room moment. He had the women yell “(HƏD) P.E.” and then had the men answer back.

They did. Without hesitation.

For a few seconds, 24 Oxford was almost completely silent except for the women yelling one response and the men answering with the other. Everyone followed along, and for those few seconds, the entire room was in on it.

Then the next song dropped heavy and deep, and the middle of the crowd started moving together in a back-and-forth wave. It wasn't individual people anymore. It was the whole center of the floor moving as one. “Jesus (of Nazareth),” “Killing Time,” “Waiting to Die,” “Feel Good” and “I Got You” worked through the set before they got to “Bartender,” one of the songs I actually recognized going into the show.

Then the melodica came out.

It was beautiful.

The crowd reacted immediately, and hearing a song I already knew played live in a room full of people who knew it too made it feel different. That's one of the things I always forget about live music until I'm standing in front of it. A song you have heard a hundred times can suddenly become something else when the band is standing ten feet away, and the people around you are singing it back.

(HƏD) P.E. thanked everyone for coming out, thanked NONPOINT for bringing them to Las Vegas and plugged the merch table before closing out their set. By the time they walked off, the crowd was cheering for (HƏD) P.E. by name. Not bad for the first band I was actually there to photograph.

SPINESHANK

SPINESHANK followed, and the volume in the room went up another notch. Jonny Santos came out dressed in all black, with red feathered hair that gave me just enough of a grunge feeling to fit a very specific part of my musical soul.

I don't know about anybody else. It worked for me.

The stage was still narrow and still covered with equipment, but Santos seemed to figure out exactly how to use what he had. He spent a good amount of time on the box at the front and stayed along the edge of the stage, which made it feel like he was trying to stay connected to the crowd rather than standing safely behind everything else.

The room was loud in a way that makes you want to jump. Not because someone told you to. Because your body has apparently decided that jumping is now the correct response. “Smothered,” “Beginning of the End” and “New Disease” were all welcomed by a crowd that clearly knew what it had come to hear. There was singing, bouncing and even a baby mosh pit.

It was almost too small to mention. Except that there was a mosh pit. In a room this size. So, I am mentioning it.

Then the house lights went down. Phones came out, lights went up and Santos told the crowd to go old school with a lighter if they had to. The mood shifted immediately. The crowd matched the band, and for a few minutes the room became something much more emotional.

Then SPINESHANK turned the energy right back up. When they got to “Dead to Me,” the room got loud enough that the sound seemed to bounce off every wall. There is a different kind of crowd noise in a smaller venue. At 24 Oxford, there isn't much room for it to escape.

Before the final breakdown, Santos came toward the crowd and put a finger to his mouth.

Shhh. The room slowly came back up with him. Then he divided the crowd.

One side took “You're fucking dead to me.” Then the other side answered. The left side started out a little sad. The right side brought it. Then the middle slammed it to the ground.

The reverb carried the ending a little longer than I personally needed, but it made its point. The sound just kept hanging there, bouncing around the room after the crowd had already given everything it had back to the band.

NONPOINT

By the time NONPOINT took the stage around 9:15, the room was fuller and the stage finally looked like it belonged to one band. The extra speaker box was gone. There was more room. And NONPOINT used every inch of it.

Elias Soriano came out in all black with a black cloth headband, while the rest of the band worked black and yellow into their clothing. From the first song, the focus was on delivery, and Soriano looked completely locked into what he was doing.

Then they started moving. And I mean MOVING. These guys were bouncing around like fucking Tiggers.

I am 36 years old, and I would like to speak to the manager about where exactly they are getting this amount of energy because there is absolutely no way my body is cooperating with that plan.

The second song was especially wild. Rasheed Thomas was jumping and moving enough to make me question whether anyone had explained to these people that conserving energy is an option.

Apparently not.

Soriano spent a good portion of the set working from the front of the stage and the riser, using the height to stay visible above the crowd. As a photographer, I had a complicated relationship with that riser. At 5'2", I already have enough trouble seeing over people, and suddenly I was pointing a camera upward at a man standing on a platform. From the crowd, though? I probably would have appreciated it. Being 5'2" in a room full of bean stalks means I will take any assistance I can get.

Soriano also asked how much Vegas could move and started working toward building a pit. The crowd was ready for it. NONPOINT's set included “Breaking Skin,” “Mindtrip,” and “My Last Dying Breath” that all stood out to me, but I already knew which song I was waiting for. “Bullet With a Name.”

Yes, I know. Typical. Still my favorite.

The lighting during NONPOINT's set was darker and more dramatic than what came before them. From behind the camera, that made some moments more challenging, but it also fit the performance. The room was fairly full by then, and the band looked like they had the space and the audience to do exactly what they came there to do.

And then I got smacked in the hand with a dreadlock. Not a metaphor. A literal dreadlock. Rasheed Thomas' dread came flying through the air and hit my hand while I was shooting.

It was cool.

I really liked that.

ONE VERY LOUD NIGHT

I went into 24 Oxford knowing all three bands, but not knowing exactly what the night would feel like. Live music has a way of changing the relationship you have with a song. Sometimes you hear something live and suddenly understand why people love it. Sometimes it sounds completely different. Sometimes it drives you. Sometimes it moves you. Sometimes you just wait for it to be over. That wasn't the case Saturday night.

Every band gave the room something.

(HƏD) P.E. came out with a soundcheck that started with “Back That Azz Up” and somehow turned into one of the most genuine-feeling openings of the night.

SPINESHANK took a narrow stage and turned it into a room-wide experience, especially when they split the crowd and let the walls take care of the rest.

NONPOINT came out with the biggest physical presence of the night and enough energy to make me question several of my own life choices.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I realized I was doing something I hadn't expected. I was moving. My head, my shoulders, my body. Probably 90 percent of the night. Sometimes I didn't even realize I was doing it.

The first three songs, I was very aware of the camera. I was aware of the guard rail, the speaker box, the other photographers and where I needed to move. I was thinking about lenses, angles and whether I was actually getting the shots I was supposed to be getting.

Then I would swap a lens.

Squirrel.

Crowd.

Band.

Oh yeah. Camera.

Those little resets gave me a chance to look up. And sometimes when I looked up, I wasn't looking through the camera anymore. I was just watching. Somewhere between being a photographer and being a fan, I managed to be both.

Walking out of 24 Oxford, I was already thinking maybe I should go play a little more of these bands. Because apparently that teenage angsty part of my musical brain is still alive and well.

And honestly? I'm pretty okay with that.

-- Words and Photos TrulyRave (Trudy Kessenger)