So, last night I did something so henious, so unforgivable, so sadly-in-character that I fear I must let it out, for fear of containing it and the implosion that would occur shortly after.
Went up to Fuel 09 in Ballymena: good idea, though I was only interested in one thing on the bill: the David Crowder* Band. DCB hold the much-coveted second place (second only to DMB, equally awesome) in my last.fm stats, and for several very good reasons. There's a lot of Christian music out there. The vast majority has great meaning and is genuine, but musically can lack a little (in my humble yet mighty opinion.) DCB transcend just about every genre to bring music that is compelling, brimming with enthusiasm, painfully perfected and... and this is the important bit... kicks ass. It really is that good. But, having never managed to make the trek over to Frenzy in Scotland, I had never got the chance to see them live.
They were fantastic, as expected and more. Completely engaged in equal measures of praise and joy, encouragement and entertainment (and that's a debate for another blog, Seranus!) Fuel is relatively intimate, so no detail was missed and Crowder's energy and interaction is a lesson to any worship leader on How To Do It. I don't say that to idolise them, but rather in that if I had to point to a guy and say This Is The Attitude I Would Like To Have, then that would be it.
But, then the kicker: after Third Day had wrapped up the night, a surprise - DCB were doing a signing. Would I queue? Yes I would, and screw my dignity. Having engaged with a lot of Crowder and the DCB's work, most recently Crowder and Mike Hogan's excellent Everybody Wants To Go To Heaven... ("And So I Watch You From Afar", April 16th 2009), I had so much to draw on that I could ask the guys. And then there's B-Wack and Hogan and the obsession with musical experimentation. Or the band's return to recording a conceptual album with the upcoming Church Music. This was too good an opportunity to miss.
But then something horrible happened.
I was talking to my Dad on Tuesday night about job interviews. There's an occasional moment we all encounter, when it all goes horribly wrong. We see ourselves saying or doing something, almost as if Out-Of-Body, and we are powerless to stop. And it keeps happening. And we don't stop.
Please, please, my consciousness screams. Stop. Please. Now.
But we don't.
As you can tell from above, I know quite a bit about the David Crowder* Band. A lot of this has built up from regular/occasional web encounters mostly, be that their Twitter, YouTube or own outputs. They're a band that engage and play a lot with new media, and if you're bored you can find out a lot... so I did, when I was bored.
And now, all of a sudden, instead of saying something useful, or offering something of interest, I turned into public enemy number one: Barely Restrained Fanboy.
And so this is what happened...
Pete and Sensible Friend are queuing. B-Wack (drummer) sticks head around the corner of the tent.
B-Wack: Hey, guys, how's it going?
Pleasantries are exchanged and Stuff To Sign offered.
B-Wack: ....yeah, we were at the Giant's Causeway today... it's weird... did you do that?
Pete: Personally? No. I did kick it once, but, you know...
There is some banter around this and then a pause. That joke went down ok. This was probably a Bad Thing.
Pete: So where else did you guys get to see?
B-Wack: Oh man, I can't remember what any of the places were called.
Mark (guitar): Yeah...
Pete: Oh ok. I saw a TwitPic earlier of Jack sitting behind some big random table...
No! Stop talking! Please! Don't reveal anymore. You sound like a stalker already!
B-Wack: Hmmm... oh yeah, that must have been at the hotel.
Pete: Anywhere good?
B-Wack: Can't remember.
Mark: The Gul.. Galgorm? Is that right?
Sensible Friend says something sensible, and hands her stuff on to Mike D (bass) to sign. Hogan's (DJ, Violin and more) not paying attention, so Mike hands it to him first.
Hogan: Oh ok, sorry...
Mike D: You're not paying attention.
Pete: It's ok, got it sorted now, you're back on the wagon...
Hogan: Yeah, I guess..
On to Crowder... this is it brain, don't let me down. Say it! Tell him you liked the book! Tell him it really helped!
Crowder: *Takes stuff" Hey, here we go: going to get some top quality ink down here.
Crowder hands it on to Jack. Jack signs and returns. Thanks and turn to go, but then...
Pete: Hey Jack...
Pete: Saw the rockumentary, and I just have to say: no matter what the others say, you shred if you want to.
Jack: Oh yeah?
Pete: Yeah, you do it man.
Jack: Oh good; that's like I've got permission now.
Jack: Great, thanks.
I'm really, really sorry guys. I just glad I was probably instantly forgettable, because five minutes later I felt that creeping sense...
...but that's how it goes with hero worship. I need to lie down, put my earphones in and let Pastor Mark chastise me for a bit I think.