Messed!Up
I’ve been a few times to Don’t Panic since I moved to Essen. But tonight’s the first time that I’m about to experience a sold-out show in the living room for Essen’s punk and subculture scene. When I arrive, the room is not yet completely full, but already more packed than it was during my last visit. Not only the main floor, but also the upstairs gallery. It promises to be quite a sweaty affair tonight.
Ultra Sect kick off the night with their brand of US Oi punk. The venue is already nicely filled, but the crowd reacts a bit reservedly at first. Maybe it takes a couple more beers, maybe just a few songs to warm up.
The band themselves don’t seem fazed. They give everything right from the start. The singer in particular goes all in, playing so hard that one of his guitar strings snaps multiple times during the set. Short interruptions, quick restringing, and straight back into it. That “no excuses, just carry on” attitude fits their rough-edged Oi sound perfectly.
Towards the end of their set, the spark finally catches on. Fists go up, the front rows start moving, and the energy in the room noticeably rises. A slightly bumpy, but solid opening to the night.
Up next, the main reason I’m here tonight: The Chisel. And they absolutely deliver from the very first second. The crowd instantly erupts, and the people in the front rows shout along to every single line as if their lives depended on it.
The singer doesn’t stand still for a single moment, storming across the stage while the band plays tighter than tight. Them Chisel boys keep the audience moving with their blend of modern UK hardcore punk with an Oi edge and guaranteed singalong choruses.
The band sounds like a perfectly oiled machine, and the cozy Don’t Panic is on fire. In German,y we call this “Abriss”, and I think that’s beautiful. After this aforementioned Abriss, I could have gone home more than happy.
But Lion’s Law are still on the bill: Oi punk straight out of Paris. And what happens next actually tops everything that came before: the crowd shifts into an even higher gear and creates a nonstop mosh pit from the very first song. Catchy sing-along choruses beg for audience participation. Singer Wattie shares his mic with the front row,s and a few crowd surfers start riding across the packed room.
The Essen crowd proves to be completely lyric-safe, roaring along at full volume between sweat, flying beer, and the occasional elbow.
Shortly after 11 p.m., it’s over. Don’t Panic spits me back out into the cold Essen night – half deaf, soaked in sweat, and with a happy grin chiseled onto my face.
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Photographer and writer: Christian Berg
