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“This is the New England Metal and Hardcore Festival, 25 bands on three stages, 10 unbroken hours of heavy music, and all day, I’ve been watching the pit—the mosh pit, the area close to the stage where inflamed dancers whirl and collide. I’ve been watching it, and skulking around it journalistically, because I am possessed by an idea: What if the pit, this ritualized maelstrom at the heart of the hardcore-metal crowd, could teach us something about how to live together in 2025—about how to be? Heavy metal, of all music, knows just how sick we are.” The Atlantic (Gift Article): The Savage Empathy of the Mosh Pit.

+ I feel like I was ahead of the curve when it comes to finding meaning in the mosh. McSweeney’s: An Open Letter to the Guy Who Puked Next to Me at the Heavy Metal Festival.