Elitist Club

It's an incredible feeling to know that the music genre you love is run by humble individuals. The band members casually walk by you at shows, the main medium of hardcore music, other than the internet. You can say hi to the members and run the risk of embarrassing yourself, or you can keep to yourself. When you first get into hardcore, and go to a couple of shows, it starts to consume every aspect of your life. Maybe you're not one for lyrics and ideologies, but the genre still has a significant impact on your life. You're part of an elitist club now. Maybe you're an extrovert and these shows are just a fun social activity of your week, no different from any other night of your people-orientated week. But if you're an introvert who has dealt with constant rejection in your life, you feel as if you're finally part of a social group. You feel accepted in your new community.
When you go home after a show, you listen to the bands' albums and sit in your room in awe. You feel so blessed you've had so many flawless albums come into your life in such a short period of time. The next morning, your real life hits you square in the face. You try to tell your coworkers or classmates how perfect your night was, but they simply just don't understand. They aren't part of your elitist club; they really aren't worthy of your time. You've tried countless times to show them your music. But unfortunately, you can only show them about 20% of your music. The rest is too abrasive to even suggest.
Your "unworthy" friends ask you to hang out. Ideally, you'd want to hang out with the friends in your elitist club, but you haven't realized that you don't have any friends in your club. You had a few small conversations, but these people probably live an hour away. Heck, you don't even know where they live. You agree to hang out with your other friends. You wan't to sit in your room and listen to hardcore albums on repeat, but you decide that it probably isn't that great for your mental health. You go out with your friends while they'll play the radio. You now the radio shouldn't aggravate you this much but the annoying electronic beats are just really pissing you off. Your friends pass around a bowl and after a few grams you realize, "This isn't me. I don't enjoy this. I want better friends." In your alternate state of mind, you imagine yourself in a small cottage covered in grass. While sitting in this cottage, you are surrounded by the "scene". Everyone is sitting around a fire chanting whatever song they're chanting. Time doesn't exist in that moment. Everyone in the room is connected infinitely and is screaming in rejoice.
But this meditation doesn't really exist. Sure you're supporting an underground endeavor when your purchase concert tickets and band merchandise. Sure there's a lot of other people who feel the exact same way as you do, but they are spread across this very large planet. You won't ever meet a fraction of these people in your life.
These are usually the first two stages of your involvement in this scene. I'm not sure how many stages there are, because I've only made it to the third and fourth.
The third is the most tragic stage you'll go through. You finally to decide to drop all of your social anxieties and branch out. Starting conversation is a pretty easy strategy. You seek out the most extrovert person and start some small talk. Actually that's a lie. You go outside and wait for someone to bum a cigarette off you. It's not hard to find someone who needs a cigarette. Everyone at that show smokes. Maybe they aren't addicted like you, but they smoke socially at shows for sure. No one is "straight-edge" anymore. There isn't much awkward silence. You just talk about that last record that came out. How did it compare to the bands prior release? How much did the band progress? Did they sell out? What other bands do you think they drew influence from? When was the last time you saw that band? Dude, I was at the show too? What did you think of the opening band? etc. etc. Chances are you're both annoying the shit out of each other. But you keep talking because you're both desperate for friends. It's similar to those awkward encounters with other college freshman in your dorm. But this is totally different. You don't want to make shallow friends with this person bumming cigarettes off of you because you're afraid of being alone for your four years at college. You're scared of being "weeded" out of the hardcore scene. You're scared of being weeded out because you failed to make any lasting friendships and won't be able to go on a road trip when you're 40 years old listening to every hardcore album ever made. The scene will die at some point. It's legacy will live on for sure, but you won't have a connection to the next generation of bands. You can't go in a mosh pit with other 19 year olds when you're 40. It's so hard to find people that like this music and this re-entry section of the music venue is your only chance. You've worn a band t-shirt every day for two years and no one has ever said, "I like your shirt". This is your only chance.
After a few awkward encounters with the same person, you decide to tell yourself that they are your friend. You never hang out with them, but telling yourself that you've made a friend helps you sleep at night.
You get invited to a local show on facebook. You've heard of this small band with less than 1000 likes before, and you think they're a pretty solid band, but you haven't really gotten into them. It's a Tuesday night and you've got nothing else better to do, so you drag your friend along and pay 5 bucks. Suddenly the band starts and it hits you. Everyone else knows each other. You don't know the words and you're sticking out like a sore thumb. You aren't part of this club. You've been trying to be a part of something and you've just realized you've been wasting your energy. No one knows you. No one wants to know you.
So what are you gonna do? Get a real job, stop going to shows and be the hero that your father was. No not really. Just don't take music so seriously. Have some fun. Just take a look at what's beneath your feet and go ahead and part that sea between brightness and me because give suburbia your all until you're nothing. Don't try to hard to make friends. If you don't meet any just get in your car and blast your favorite records and scream them and make sure everyone on the road knows that you're a crazy psychopath.