I was alone in San Francisco on my way to see the US Bombs for the first time. Confused by the transit system, I walked through the sketchiest streets my triscuit feet have ever stepped upon. The neighbourhood was called the Tenderloin, a “high crime neighbourhood” according to wikipedia. I think Rancid wrote a song about it. I kept my head down and made it to the door.
The Bombs were on stage prepping their gear, a female cocksparrer cover band had already opened up for them. The band begun their set with some of their heavier numbers, and the typical ritual of drunken mohawked bros running in a circle in front of the stage had begun.