Back in 1991, late at night, in the middle of a field at Cornerstone, my 17 year-old self and what seems like only a hundred or so other fortunates got to witness Mike Knott lead LSU through a frenzied set on a ramshackle stage that seemed like it would collapse at any minute. I was primarily a punk/thrash guy, but that show remains one of my favorites. It was so powerful and so intimate. The night air, the transfixed crowd hanging on ever syllable- sung or spoken, the pogo-ing, Mike smearing white paint on his face as he alternated from gentle whisper to banshee screams. I've never seen anything like it.
Back in 1991, late at night, in the middle of a field at Cornerstone, my 17 year-old self and what seems like only a hundred or so other fortunates got to witness Mike Knott lead LSU through a frenzied set on a ramshackle stage that seemed like it would collapse at any minute. I was primarily a punk/thrash guy, but that show remains one of my favorites. It was so powerful and so intimate. The night air, the transfixed crowd hanging on ever syllable- sung or spoken, the pogo-ing, Mike smearing white paint on his face as he alternated from gentle whisper to banshee screams. I've never seen anything like it.