As cliche as it sounds to open with where I am and what I am doing, I believe it fits the scene quite nicely; you will understand shortly.

Amos’ Southend, music venue in Charlotte, NC, listening to one angst-filled, misinformed group of teenagers destroying one aesthetic I thoroughly enjoy: music. I have visited this venue several times, and paid good money to hear some of my favorite bands pour their hearts out on that stage. Some of my bitterness at the present time most likely stems from seeing a disappointing reenactment of some of my most fondest memories, but secondly, on account of forgery.

I feel that these young gentlemen are just faking it. They thrust themselves into the scene, do the dance, learn the lingo, and there they are. I know it sounds harsh, and I know I can not possibly know their intent in it all, but sometimes you can just know right? You feel lied to, cheated. You get frustrated, not at them per se, but at the system of it all. You almost automatically blame the genus for their conduct, and it is wrong to do so.

It all seems too cliche: the teenager acts as he wants to be, that of a rebel, a musician of notoriety, etc. The trappings of it all are there, yet the cliche overpowers your willingness to believe them. You can not pinpoint what they are missing, you just know that they are not who they say they are or seemingly aspire to be.

I do not want to personify a cliche, especially the Christian cliche. As far as I know and have experienced from opposing perspectives, the Christian cliche is that of a hypocrite: one that proclaims with authority yet performs with insincerity. I want to be the real thing. I do not want to ride the coattails of the church-scene. I want to harbor the Holy Spirit, that spark, that flame, that gives it away and makes people say, “Yeah this kid is legit.” Whereas the true musicians carry the talent, true Christians carry the Holy Spirit, or more true, the Holy Spirit carries the Christian.

Trump the cliche; be real.