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I looked at him. About my age. Earnest. Polite. He had on a pair of dress pants and a shirt, as opposed to everyone else in the symposium, the majority of whom were in black t-shirts with a Slayer logo of some sort. I made a note to myself. “Next time, at least come dressed in black.” Later, I studied a jean jacket carefully appliquéd with attractive metal logos, a massive number of studs on the left lapel, nothing on the right lapel, the sleeves cut out, the sleeve holes frayed. As a sewer I thought, I wonder if I could make myself one like that for the next time I come to a conference like this.
“No, I don’t mind telling you. My children used to listen to this music. I didn’t get a chance to really hear it. Now I am looking for what it was that was attractive to them.”
“What do you mean, they used to listen to it? Don’t they anymore.”
"They are older now. I don’t know what they listen to. I have a B.A. in Music History from the 1960’s, so I would also have some interest here that is purely academic," I continued. "Now why are you here?”
“Oh,” he said, “I am in the wrong place. I met some people at Congress and wanting to speak to them again, I came to see if they were here. But what is going on in there is past me. I am leaving.”
I didn’t leave.
I stayed for the six talks which were prefaced by broader questions for all to think about.
Paul Bramadet asked people to consider these three themes: How does metal use religion? How does religion respond to metal? Ethnologically, how is metal like religion?
I was in the right place, at the right time, dressed the wrong way.
Arta
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