BIRMINGHAM, Ala. (ABP) — Awhile back, 16-year-old Seth Landerfelt went to court for being caught out past the 11 p.m. curfew in Moody, Ala. “They told me to take out my piercings and cut my hair,” he recalled with a smile. His response: “I went then and got my first tattoo.”
After the addition of several more tattoos, a few more piercings and some crazy-colored dyes mixed into his long hair, Landerfelt fit right into “the scene,” the crew of teens and young adults who sport similar styles and follow punk-rock and hardcore bands. “They let me be myself,” Landerfelt said.
The scene was a good place for him, he said. And it was where he met Christ. Churches didn't accept him, he said. But the Birmingham-based band Fixed til Tuesday did. And Landerfelt is not alone.
Across the nation, a growing number of hardcore teens and young adults have gravitated to the neopunk-rock scene.
Recently, at a church in Pelham, Ala., more than 400 scene kids listened and cheered as Paddy Schefano, the lead singer of the group Fixed til Tuesday, said, “If you haven't met Jesus Christ, he loves you more than anyone on this planet ever will, I swear to you.”
Jeremy Folse, guitarist for the group, said the band opens a window to relate to marginalized kids through a type of music that is stereotyped as the music of the unsaved.
“It is a type of music that the younger generation is wanting to listen to,” he said. “So I believe if they or we want to listen to that type of music, it should be about God and our inspiration to live for him.” Many of the band's lyrics talk about victory over Satan, Folse told The Alabama Baptist.
Before falling in with the band, Landerfelt dabbled in drugs and was “just trying to please everyone else.” Now he freely says that “Christ is my Lord and Savior now. And it's a much greater life.”
“It was just about me before. It was bad,” he said. “Now it's about God — my friends, my band and God. These guys [in Fixed til Tuesday] grew me up, and Paddy taught me how to scream and sing, too.”
The “scene kids” who know the band's music scream along and mosh — dance while slamming against each other — in front of the stage, in the area known as the pit. And the lyrics would surprise anyone not in the scene, if they could understand them.
“We gather today, in the name of Jesus. We'll throw him [Satan] into the abyss and lock hell shut,” Schefano sang at a recent CD-release party.
Graham Kelly, a member of the Nashville band Muzzle Mouth, said evangelism among scene kids is all relational.
“They are strong-willed, stubborn kids just like me,” said Kelly, who attends College Heights Baptist Church in Gallatin, Tenn. “If, say, my parents hated my music, hated the way I live, hated it that I went to shows, when [they] tell me I need Christ, that's going to roll off my back and not even faze me.”
Scene kids have a distinctive look, Kelly said. “Black band T-shirts, camo shorts, tattooed sleeves [arms]. … Boys wear girls' pants and girls have shotgun-blast haircuts,” Kelly said. “A lot of them have tattoos and piercings.”
Kelly himself has 13 tattoos, including an eagle that covers the entire top of his head and the words “amazing” and “grace” inked on each of his hands. The phrase “straight edge” is emblazoned across his shoulders, which Kelly said is particularly meaningful.
Straight edge is a counter-cultural lifestyle closely associated with the scene. It has existed since the hardcore band Minor Threat spearheaded it in the early '80s. Scene kids who adhere to the straight edge abstain from alcohol, tobacco, drugs and, in many cases, promiscuity. Although not all straight-edgers are Christians, the idea meshes well with Christianity, Kelly said.
“In the sixth grade, when I had just started checking out the punk-rock scene, my friend Luke explained straight edge to me, and it sounded completely retarded,” Kelly said with a laugh. “But I thought about it, and it actually made a lot of sense. Those things were never going to be a part of my life anyway, so why not have a conviction and a commitment about it?”
Straight-edgers sometimes use “X” as their symbol, which comes from the “X” drawn on the hands of underage people at concerts to show that they can't have alcohol. Some, like Kelly, have “XXX” tattoos. Others, like Schefano, sign their name surrounded by Xs, like “xPaddyx.”
The neopunk tattoos and clothing didn't help Kelly win many friends at his local church, he said. These days, though, some churches have begun attracting a different crowd.
“Some of them support the heavier music scene, hold shows and build skate parks,” Kelly said. “This shows kids that not all Christians are the same. Some Christians send the wrong message, but we should want [scene kids] to realize that there are Christians who do care, and we're trying to save your soul here.”
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— Grace Thornton is a correspondent for The Alabama Baptist.