The image was taken by Malixe, a local photographer, and is available here.

Friday was a brisk night and under the eerie glow of a thousand pock less moons held up by quaint black light poles the Infernal Noise Brigade readied themselves for their final march just after 10:15 pm. This is the night before the Infernal Noise Brigade’s sleighted Wake, as the band decided to break up in April, but came back with some of their former members to put on one final show this July. On the Teletubby hill of Cal Anderson Park, two blocks off Broadway a few band members waited solemnly. The code of dress did not follow the norm for the Infernal Noise Brigade, who regularly dress in beige and black with stripes of construction worker orange and fluorescent safety tape. Their normal followers seem to follow the typical activist/anarchist dress code of bandana masks and sloganeering signs. Yet the absence of typical anti-authoritarian clothes served as a reminder that this was a funeral procession, not just a march. The Infernal Noise Brigade was sharply dressed in their Sunday best; somber hues were de rigueur. A coffin waited in the distance, a flag of fluorescent tape, orange, and black fabric draped over the top. As people gathered, the murmur of people reached a celebratory crescendo as the whistle blew and the Infernal Noise Brigade marched through the park, pallbearers towed the mighty coffin behind.
The Infernal Noise Brigade hit the center of the Capitol Hill Block Party just as the main stage was wrapping up. The crowds looked on in curious wonder and excitement as the Infernal Noise Brigade marched up and down Pike Street repeatedly, as if it were a spirit, humming mad. People clapped their hands in tune with the beat and then, as if it were a ghost with unfinished business, the INB settled in front of the Comet Tavern. Nestled close to the door, the marching band whipped the crowd up, almost mockingly, since the Comet had blacklisted the band at their previous show there. People danced in the street-lit fervor as a tumultuous uprising built while the brass and drum boomed.
Finishing their final haunting (the Infernal Noise Brigade not known for allowing grievances to pass un-avenged), the Infernal Noise Brigade took off the beaten path once again, only to be quickly herded off the street by a zealous man-in-blue on Pine Street. Marching past the Egyptian theatre, fans climbed over the hills and on top of the bus stops next to Seattle Central. Seemingly forced to stop, the Infernal Noise Brigade made their last stand in front of Kincora Pub as the ladies and gentlemen of the law looked on. The band scattered and the crowd is blown away like dust. There was little sadness in the crowd, knowing that the real sorrows lie ahead, on Saturday night, in the final wake for the Infernal Noise Brigade. This was an appropriate funeral march for an ephemeral force that represents a certain flavor of Northwest activism.

Make sure to read Christopher Frizzelle’s coverage of the demise of the Infernal Noise Brigade in next week’s paper.

Brandon Eng
Intern Whore