I rolled in just as Trash Talk were going on. In my favorite turn of events, there was an unannounced lineup switch and they were in the midcard slot. Once I ascertained I hadn't missed OFF! in that switch, I settled in for the fracas. The party line on TT was that they 'fucked shit up'. I'm not particularly of a mind to act as such in my old age and don't mind that the young people choose to (most of the time) unless I unwillingly have to be in the thick of it. Santos is awesome for a lot of reasons, but its layout is not conducive to being out of the fray if the kids start to get frisky. While kids of all ages went apeshit from the jump for Trash Talk, the band was as active as the crowd. At not one, but two occasions at this show I took my eye off the singer (on stage) for maybe a second and he was literally on my head. Were I to have been up front, that wouldn't be so shocking, but I am 6'3" and was probably 20 feet from the stage for the duration. Trust me: Trash Talk give new meaning to working a room. And they fucking kill it, so buy all their records and go out of your way to see them if ever you get the chance.
OFF! rolled up right after, owing to the dance party that curfews a lot of Santos shows ala Europa. Their Brooklyn show was purported to be pretty bad-ass and the crowd was pretty antsy for being as old as it was in anticipation. Morris and Co. didn't disappoint, romping through their entire canon in about a half hour, even with Keith shooting off his mouth. In a bad ass encore turn, they returned and announced that they were just going to start the set over and play until they got cut off, garnering all who stuck around a good part of the set a second time. Props are due to the loveliest slash best-smelling woman I've ever encountered at a punk show, who tarried in our little enclave for a good part of the set before disappearing. It seems like some slumming was in effect, and I'm as shocked as you are that I don't have anything negative about her attendance. Statistics say it could happen. Either way, the frosting on the beater from one hell of a great show. Go out of your way to see either, but if you enjoy your hardcore with a healthy dose of power violence, step lively here and get yourself some Trash Talk.