ARE Weapons : New York Spa

Vice magazine's Gavin McInnes goes looking for a fight at electro-punks ARE Weapons's show...

I have to admit I was a bit nervous about going to this show. After referring to ARE Weapons’ manager as “worse than AIDS” he had called me at home challenging me to a fight and, where I’m from, that is some heavy shit.

Paul Sevigny is probably the worst DJ in North America right now playing jams like Fugazi’s ‘Waiting Room’ and Jagger and Bowie’s ‘Dancin’ In The Streets’ so I had to trash him in our magazine’s live review section. It’s

my job. When NME said I had to go to his party and check out the show it was a blessing really. At least I had something to write about. You see, ARE Weapons are a fantastic band that look great and have a superb following but as far as their actual songs go, well, they’re a magazine band. You love to read about them and check out their outfits but you don’t exactly put on the CD while you clean your room. It’s hard to write about their music because that’s kind of the least interesting thing about them.

So yeah, I saw Sir-Fop-A-Lot at the show standing by a bunch of my friends and I decided it was time. I braced myself for the first punch (you know fighting is 100% about the first punch) and strolled over ready to either be a local hero or a laughing stock. After spending a childhood in Glasgow and Montreal I have an intimate knowledge of the street fight. They last 40 seconds, they don’t hurt until the next day, and they usually mean (even for the winner) waiting in ER for 12 hours to have something put back together.

Of course, nothing happened. I guess neither of us was into it. Sorry, but

unless someone slaps your mum it’s hard to be into a fight for more than a few minutes, you know what I mean? I know you’re disappointed but you’re not the only one. A few of my friends were there ready to throw down and they seemed kind of pissed at me for not slapping him. They had come looking for some action and were determined to brawl. Fortunately, one of them spilled another one’s drink and they got to spend the night shoving each other and saying things like “I’m serious. Buy me a drink or it’s on” and “Fuck you”.

The band was playing punk rock electro beats in Batman shirts, the bouncers were contemplating kicking my friends out, two go go girls with perfect asses were gyrating on the dance floor and I thought to myself “I heart New York”.

Gavin McInnes

Founder member of Vice magazine