Aldan, PA
Hobo Camp
  Under Rage
The Destroyer Crew
Chainsaw To The Face

BOB: This show was really fun, besides banging my head on the low-ass ceiling a few times... Saw a bunch of friends, and it was like everyone knew each other, so everyone was cool and laid back. Syzslak were amazing as usual, I love them.
Then we went on and rocked the place, everyone seemed to really enjoy our set. At the beginning of our second-to-last song my spring on my bass pedal broke and I had to play the song with my left foot pedal, which was tricky, but turned out good, and then Syzslak let me use their pedal for the last song... great people.
All in all, it was a great night.

SKWERL: Chainsaw To The Face was running late, so Destroyer Crew (also known as DSC) went on first. They kicked ass. Tomorrow morning, Bob and I are going to head up to the art museum with Leah, one of the two DSC vocalists. Should be cool. Chainsaw To The Face ran into more technical problems than even the unluckiest of bands often encounter, but eventually managed to get through their set of what seemed like 20 15 to 20 second songs. Fun stuff, for what it was I suppose. They certainly delivered some energy. Syszlak came on after them, and that was a fun fucking set.
We did Mechanism, Journey Home, Extent Of The Law, Plague, Flames, Kingdom Come, I Used To Live Here, Breed, and then What's Left. Aside from a few minor sound issues and missed notes, we blasted through a nearly flawless set, and everyone seemed to love us. All of us really got into it and fed off the great crowd, which was mostly close friends and other bands. We went a little buck, flailing and jumping around and shit. Even April lost her shit a little. At the very end, during Breed, a spring snapped on Bob's bass drum pedal, but Syszlak jumped in and lent us theirs. So it barely stopped us, and then we ripped right into What's Left, which I think is my favorite of all of Shawn's songs.
Hobo Camp is fucking tiny, even compared to the other houses we play around Philadelphia. The ceiling is even lower than it looks in these photos. We packed the place though, and we left it stinking like Hell's locker room. Bob wrung his shirt out as we were tearing down, and the sweat came out as if he had been in a pool.

Photos by Lauren & Under Rage