I was so excited to find a flier for this show while I was finishing up grad school at Stevens. 4th floor Howe Center, Bissinger room. Being an engineering school, I shouldn't have been too surprised that the majority of attendees weren't students, but it was amusing seeing all the punks lining the halls that usually were used for much less interesting events, like conferences or cafeteria overflow. Mischief Brew and Emilyn Brodsky opened; at the time I found both performances noteworthy in that half the people sat down, story-time style for Emlyn, and then folks started crowd surfing to Mischief Brew's acoustic guitar. It was my first inferno show, so there's no way I can remember what songs were played, but it got shut down early because some knob landed on their head and had to get medical help or something; the electricity was cut off, so they just finished off one last song playing in the crowd (think it was the waltz?). I had known about them for a few years prior, and still regret taking so long to get to my first show. - Doug K
I'm the knob who landed on my head but I did not get medical help. You can see me dancing on stage with a paper towel to my head 48 seconds into that video. The story is actually: I crowd surfed during “New Jersey” and when I got to the back of the crowd/end of the song, two large dudes side stepped instead of catching 115 lb me and I fell directly on my head (which bounced back up and hit one of their shoes). I blacked out for a couple seconds, stood up, felt the back of my head which was bleeding because I split/ very deeply cut it. The guys who dropped me asked if I was ok, for some reason despite choosing to let me fall on my head. I only knew a couple Infernites at the time. The first I saw was Bill Cashman (whom I had only met maybe two other times). I remember walking up to him with a bloody skull and saying “Bill, can you help me?” Smiling and polite as always, he said “Sure…… OhhH” and brought me to the mens room to clean my head with water and paper towels. When returning to the dance floor, the kids throwing the show stopped me to tell me I couldn't go back in because I might sue them. I alleviated them of this thought but they had already called an ambulance. A cop checked me out and told me I did not have a concussion (which I definitely did). I asked how old I had to be to deny an ambulance (no health insurance and I wanted to see the show). He said “18.” I said “Well I'm 19,” blew him a kiss and ran back in the room. The cop got a good chuckle out of that. The kid running the show got on stage and asked everyone to stop stage diving, which of course made EVERYONE stage dive. They pulled the plugs and Inferno played the Waltz. A couple more cops walked in the room, looked at everyone waltzing and said “What am I supposed to stop? It's just a bunch of kids ballroom dancing in here.” After the show, my Mom called to tell me my favorite great uncle died but I didn't process it till the next morning because of my head. Alex Tampon and Nick brought me to some party in Williamsburg with white walls which I proceeded to rub my head on. They did a good job keeping me out most of the night so I wouldn't fall asleep. The next day, my roommate Kara, who came to the show with me, washed my head with peroxide and put a bandana over the bloody dreads that had formed that we were too nervous to wash. Stumbling to work, two St. Mark's crusties came up to me to tell me they saw me at an Inferno show. They wouldn't stop talking at me so I palmed then shoved one of their faces and kept walking- in my defense I looked like a crackhead who was about to throw up. However bad your worst hangover ever was, multiply it by ten. That's the story of Steven's Institute. Despite my head, seriously fun fucking show. -Danielle