Did Not Engage
subtitled: The Thing That Could Not Be
Early on Saturday morning, I got a text from Brother Wilf. He’s a huge fan of Killswitch Engage, and they were playing that night in London, with Battlecross and Trivium. In a tiny little venue, so it’d be like we were onstage with them. Did I wanna go?
Talk about last minute. Yet of course I wanted to go! Surely, that would be a great show.
However, my day was all planned out already, and the kids were already underfoot. Not to mention, I’d shot my wad in Taranna last weekend seeing Kvelertak/Gojira/Mastodon, and this coming weekend we’ll be in Stratford to see Colm Feore as King Lear. Plus, London is three hours from here (one-way), so add in gig-time and I’d basically have been ditching my lovely wife with the kids for the entire day (and I did that last weekend, for the Mastodon show).
Like I said, I wanted to go. But it wasn’t to be, for me. Brother Wilf waffled about going on his own (no one else could drop and go either), and by the time he’d decided fuck it he was going (this was around noon on gig day), tickets were sold out. And Brother Wilf won’t give a red cent to scalpers (he calls them “cocksuckers” and will rant for hours about them, if you let him).
So, alas, we did not see the gig. I don’t know anything about Battlecross, but I’m up for seeing new-to-me bands! Trivium would have been awesome, and we know Killswitch would have rocked the joint.
Dammit. It’s the one that got away.