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A.F.I at the Opera House
By Canice Leung
Photos by Canice Leung
Toronto
July 6, 2003
A.F.I has never been accepted by any musical genre; too pop for the punk scene, too punk for the goths, and too much of an oddity for the mainstream. And who can blame them? After abandoning their early 90's straight-up punk roots, lead singer Davey Havok found his sense of melancholic gloom, and grew a Misfits-esque devilock. Many of their original fans fell out of synch with them, but in the process of releasing several albums and EPs on indie punk label Nitro, they picked up a legion of goth-punk outsiders that are beyond devoted to them.
These are the fans that adorn their bodies with tattoos of the imagery in their CD artwork. These fans send Havok presents in mail, packages full of Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas paraphernalia, an obsession he admits to hold claim to. These fans emulate the same androgynous, macabre fashion that he employs and let me say, it was rather disconcerting to turn every corner and think you're seeing Davey himself mingling in the crowd.
And because of this, tonight AFI had their rapturous attention. Admittedly, it was disappointing to see how lavishly the crowd paid heed only to Havok, whereas the rest of the band was for the most part, merely a backing band. Most of the material played tonight was in support of their new album Sing The Sorrow. As with most bands, the new material is "never as good as their old stuff", but nevertheless, for the crowd sang along just as loudly to "Cruise Control", off a contrasting, former version of A.F.I as to their "mainstream" breakthrough single, "Girl's Not Grey".
After driving furiously through 15-something songs, Davey Havok was left under a glaring white spotlight at the end of 'The Leaving Song", as though seemingly crumbling under the weight of existence itself. He is not one to skimp on melodrama, but it definitely felt like a poetic moment to see fog rising up and engulfing his crouched figure, screaming out "as the stars come out, as I disintegrate." A bit discordant with the universe, but everyone there that night threw up their fists adorned with spiked bracelets and black nail polish in unity as the lights faded and the fog rose up engulfing him.
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