W.O.A. Metal Battle Romania, Sibiu

Joi seara. W.O.A. Metal Battle avea loc in Oldies Pub si nu mai aveam chef sa merg. Toata saptamana am asteptat ziua asta, sa beau o bere si sa merg la concertele respective, iar pe ultima suta de metri, din cauza unor probleme tipic femeiesti, nu mai aveam chef. Vroiam liniste; un ceai, nicidecum o bere; un film, nu trei trupe metal urlandu-mi in timpane. Dar am facut bine ca nu mi-am ascultat instinctele influentate de dureri si indispozitii serioase. Am luat un nurofen, am strans din dinti primele treizeci de minute pana cand si-a facut efectul si medicamentul si berea, si i-am ascultat pe cei de la Bucovina, God si Gothic. Concertele lor au fost incendiare. Atmosfera era la fel. Rockeri aliniati frumos in fata scenei hardand din greu, altii la mese si pe langa bar facand acelasi lucru cu un pahar de alcool in mana. Chestie tipica la concertele rock.  Maini in aer, lumini albastre si rosii, miros de fum, transpiratie si  vanilie. Pletosii fluturandu-si parul prin fata aparatelor foto. Urlete si volum dat la maxim. Toate astea mi se invarteau in minte si prin fata ochilor. Asa imi amintesc eu seara trecuta. Am plecat agitata, cu inima bubuind inca dupa ritmul chitarilor si cu un tiuit enervant in urechi. Am mai omorat cateva celule din urechi in seara asta. Dar a meritat.

Thursday night. W.O.A. Metal battle in Oldies Pub and I wasn’t in the mood to go anymore. All week I’ve been waiting for this day, to have a beer and go to these concerts, and just a couple of hours before they start, because of some typical female problems, I feel like I’m not in the mood anymore. I wanted some quiet time; a cup of tea, not beer; a movie, not three metal bands roaring in my ears. But I’m now glad that I didn’t give in to these instincts influenced by pains and serious indispositions. I took a strong pain killer, ground my teeth until the medicine and the beer started to take effect, and listened to Bucovina, God and Gothic. The concerts were incendiary. The mood as well. Neatly aligned rockers in front of the stage banging their heads, others at the tables and bar doing the same thing and holding an alcohol drink. Typical rock concert stuff. Hands thrown in the air, blue and red lights, smell of smoke, sweat and vanilla. Long-haired dudes, and girls, waving their hair in front of the cameras. Yelling and the music volume to the maximum. All these things floating through my mind and in front of my eyes. This is how I remember last night. I left still in agitation, with my heart still beating in the rhythm of the guitars and with a constant ringing in my ears. I killed some more hearing cells last night. But it was worth it.

Bucovina

 

 

God

Gothic