Before the VIP meet and greet yesterday, as said VIPs began shuffling in, I decided to sit at the front of the stage and chat with whomever felt like ambling up. It was nice - about a dozen people lined the barricade, and we shot the breeze about guitars, Iron Maiden, and impossible, made-up places like Nashville, Tennessee.

I tend not to go out after shows - after a couple hours of wall-of-sound dance party, a quiet place where nothing can harm me, aka the hotel room, is just the thing for a sensitive soul. But I miss hanging with fans, and one-on-one, before the club’s littered with plastic cups and post-show mania’s in full swing, I feel connected to the spirit of the thing I helped build.