Trying to write about Tremont Music Hall is somewhat of a daunting task for me. The stories and memories are literally endless, and I could go on for hours. I believe that’s largely due to the fact I spent 20 years of my life in those hallowed halls, much of it during my adolescent, formative years. I paid my rock ’n’ roll dues in that building. I made a ton of mistakes. I discovered bands I’d never heard of—bands that would go on to become legends, many of whom quietly rewired my sense of what music could be.
With my daughters in tow, we stepped into Jay Tillard’s Black Box venue – and into a time warp I hadn’t visited in over a decade. What I expected to feel was anxiety—the kind that creeps in when you’re about to confront your younger self through other people’s memories. Instead, it dissolved almost instantly into something softer: recognition, warmth, a strange and immediate peace.
My youngest tugged at my sleeve and asked, “So Dad, is this like your high school reunion?” I laughed. I thought about it for a second. Then I told her the truth. “Yeah—but better.”
Because it was. I spent more time at Tremont than I ever did in any High School classroom, and the lessons stuck a lot harder. There were no yearbooks here—just ringing ears, inside jokes, and a shared understanding that whatever happened in those walls mattered in a way that was hard to explain to anyone who wasn’t there.
The room filled up quickly with long hugs and the kind of smiles that don’t need catching up. Time collapsed. Ten years became ten minutes.
And then there was Penny….
Miss Penny Carver—no, *Queen* Penny Carver—asked me to grab a few specific photos. I didn’t hesitate. “I will photograph anything and everything for you,” I told her. “I’ll follow you into hell and back. You are the matriarch that made all of this possible”
That wasn’t hyperbole. She gave my band a shot when we were too young to understand what that meant. She put us on bills we had no business being on yet. She taught me how to count money in the back office at the end of the night, and more importantly, how not to get taken advantage of in an industry that feeds on inexperience. She built something that extended far beyond shows—it was infrastructure for a scene, a safety net for misfits, a proving ground for kids like me.
After the group photos, she stood up and gave an impromptu speech. It wasn’t long, and it didn’t need to be. You could see it hit people in real time—seasoned musicians, road dogs, lifers—eyes watering, arms crossed a little tighter. Even the toughest people in the room didn’t bother pretending they weren’t moved.
That’s the thing about places like Tremont: you don’t realize what they’ve given you until you’re standing in a room full of people who carry the same invisible imprint.
There are too many names to list, too many stories to do justice in a single piece. But if you’re reading this, know that I found you. We talked. We laughed. I thanked you.
I showed my ass back then—I know that better than anyone. But family is family. Time sands the edges down, and what’s left is something you can laugh about together. Even the jabs shouted from the stage that afternoon—Werm, Howie, Northington—I heard you. Loud and clear… And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Epilogue (For My Own Purposes) **Why 1995–2015 mattered**
There are shows you remember, and then there are moments that tattoo themselves onto your brain.
- Deftones — Peak-’98 Chino AXL Rose rockstar antics. He had delayed the show like an hour. Penny lit into him like only she could, telling him to pull up those *Around the Fur*-era Dickies baggy pants and get onstage like a bigboy. He cowered like a reprimanded child and set out onstage.
- Henry Rollins — West Memphis Three benefit. Rollins Band playing Black Flag songs, with Keith Morris dropping in. Henry was lifting weights on the loading dock when my high-school girlfriend made a comment about his neck looking bigger on TV. His reply was…well, Henry. Explaining how her anatomy “would be a lot saggier in 10 years“. All of this while I sheepishly handed him my copy of My War for his john hancock.
- Vanilla Ice — The dreadlocks nü-metal era. We chanted “Go ninja, go Ninja Go!” and other TMNT references in between songs until he launched a trash can at my best friend and peeled out in a limo. Performance art, depending on your perspective.
- AFI — Opening for The Offspring. Blond-era Davey and a sense that style could be as sharp as sound. Dropping the mic from his trousers and mocking homophones.
- Hatebreed — Their bassist once ripped a pay phone out of the ground. Like, out of the concrete and metal posts. They had transportation issues and missed their allotted set time. Another night, the power died mid-show. Nobody left. It turned into this eerie, sweat-soaked lock-in where silence somehow bonded everyone tighter than sound. The show went on!
- Glassjaw — Infamously rough sound in the early days. I still have a bootleg from this show that’s basically a sonic disasterpiece. Someone on staff is yelling, “Find Penny! NOW! Where is F**K is Penny? Get her to the soundboard”
- Converge — The Jane Doe album release tour. I had no idea who they were – Just a skinny dude running side to side barking. My life changed forever that night.
- Snapcase, BoySetsFire, & H2O — sharing Fritos with Nathan Gray then studying in awe Jon and Frank throwing guitars and pinching notes. Daryl jump-spinning off the kick drum riser. They went on to be my favorite hXc band of all time.
- Agnostic Front — I was twelve‑ish. Vinnie saw me flattened against the barricade, alerted security, and had me pulled over to safety—then he put me on his shoulders and spun while shredding. Best seat in the house.
- Between the Buried and Me — Playing my first sold-out show, opening for them in the small room. I hid behind my long hair the entire time, terrified.
- Prayer for Cleansing — Final show, 2004. I dropped from the rafters during “Sonnet” And head-walked my way to stage.
- Molly Hatchet — Borrowed my JCM900 and Blew the transformer.
Mental Snapshots (Incomplete, but Eternal)
A blur of names, noise, and moments that I had the pleasure of witnessing. I can still somehow picture parts of these shows when I close my eyes
| Green Day | The Offspring | Deftones |
| AFI | Rancid | Social Distortion |
| Danzig | Killswitch Engage | Insane Clown Posse |
| Less Than Jake | Alkaline Trio | Lamb of God |
| Mastodon | The Gaslight Anthem | Against Me! |
| Thursday | Atreyu | As I Lay Dying |
| The Black Dahlia Murder | Between the Buried and Me | Ministry |
| Meshuggah | Fugazi | The Misfits |
| Descendents | Dinosaur Jr. | Clutch |
| Hatebreed | Helmet | Converge |
| The Dillinger Escape Plan | Glassjaw | Hot Water Music |
| Snapcase | Earth Crisis | Agnostic Front |
| Cro-Mags | Zao | Bane |
| Comeback Kid | Bleeding Through | Norma Jean |
| Poison the Well | Every Time I Die | 36 Crazyfists |
| DevilDriver | Soulfly | Animals as Leaders |
| Cave In | Cursive | letlive. |
| Sevendust | The Chariot | He Is Legend |
| Maylene and the Sons of Disaster | Beloved | Hopesfall |
| Candiria | Evergreen Terrace | Superjoint Ritual |
| Godsmack | Staind | Stuck Mojo |
| Murs | Avail | Terror |
| ASG | Guttermouth | ANTiSEEN |
| Blood for Blood | A Life Once Lost | Defeater |
| Reflux | Prayer for Cleansing | Glass Casket |
| Wretched | Simon Says |
Hello, my name is Justin Driscoll and I call the wonderful state of North Carolina home. I might have taken your photo at some point or met you at a Rock N Roll show? However, I also have many other facets of my life I am passionate about. I started this site to talk about some of those things.
Whether it be guitars, guitar gear, Harley’s, Jeep stuff, photography, vinyl or travels, I’ll be on here to chat about it.
Stay Weird, Stay Creative!