There was a passable crowd at the ’Sco on Monday night, but it seemed as though only a fraction of the turnout was truly excited to see punk band Homostupids, with opening act Aaron Dilloway.

Homostupids’s fan base appears to consist of two disparate groups: fanatics and people who are truly indifferent to its music. This polarity was evident by the large number of non-College students at the ’Sco that night — diehard fans who could easily be identified amongst largely nonplussed Oberlin students.

According to College sophomore Adrian Rew, a ’Sco employee who booked the band, the Homostupids “is a way-above-average band whose albums are packed with … unique and interesting music.“ Hailing from Cleveland, the members of Homostupids have amassed a substantial fan following, with Rew referring to their core audience as an “intense Clevo-fanbase.”

The Facebook page for the event echoed Rew’s enthusiasm, describing Homostupids as “the world’s premier purveyors of raw wasteoid way-above- average punk bliss.” Responses to the invite ranged from “holy shit, unreal,” to “whoa, best band in ohio/the world,” but such effusive responses were minimal compared to the 132 members who RSVP-ed as “attending.”

The ultimate turnout was nothing of what was indicated on the Facebook page. Instead, the majority of people who showed up to the show went to the ’Sco merely to hang out or to mosh to punk music. “I think the turnout was appropriate and as expected for a Monday night,” Rew said of the show’s audience, citing a snowstorm earlier that evening as the reason for the event’s low attendance.

The audience approached Homostupids’s first song calmly. The crowd’s lethargy was perhaps a reaction to opener Aaron Dilloway’s syrupy beats, which, College sophomore Alex Bloch joked, were reminiscent of what the sounds in her head would be like if she went crazy. Homostupids’s bassist/vocalist Steve Peffer combated the audience members’ sluggishness by urging them to crowd in closer together. “Don’t worry,” he yelled to the audience. “Everyone here is soft, like two hotdog buns … They stick together, but they don’t do anything.”

At Peffer’s urging, the energy of the show took off. Students began launching their bodies from the stage as the moshing in the audience tightened up. However, their execution was at times a bit sloppy, with one unlucky Oberlin student accidentally biting down on her tongue while twisting her ankle.

Despite the mayhem of the Homostupids’ set, however, the majority of the audience seemed to think that the show was just “OK.” Indeed, College sophomore Amanda Mummery said exactly this, commenting that the show was “OK.” As College junior Audrey Ojeda explained, “They weren’t very good, but they were good enough … there was no buildup [in the set].”

Indeed, Homostupids’ set was a bit short, with unfortunately few distinctive moments. After each song, either Peffer or vocalist/guitarist Josh Banaszak would say one of two things: “Fuck you” or “You suck.” While these acts of vulgarity appeared to satisfy some members of the crowd, others were left unconvinced, a disparity between audience reactions that mirrored the polarity of the band’s fan base. Although the show was brief, according to Rew, Homostupids “ended up playing a set more than twice as long as their usual 10 or 15 minutes of entertainment. And they only had to play one of their songs twice!”

Rew’s statement alone provided me with significantly more information about Homostupids than I could get out of them from an interview. Described by Rew as “the funniest band in America, both onstage and off,” Homostupids’ personal brand of “hilarity” obstructed my attempt at a sincere dialogue. Although my interview with Peffer got off to a promising start, with Peffer expressing how the show had exceeded his initial expectations, our conversation soon turned into a discussion about colors, depression, medications, his cat’s Hyperthyroidism and applewood-smoked cheddar cheese.

Ultimately, I cannot say whether the show was a success or not. It truly depends on one’s opinion of the band. However, enough people showed up that it appeared as though the ’Sco’s bar made a good profit — especially for a snowy Monday night.