Must be just like the Wire right? Well it was looking a little bit that way, until, from below an underpass we heard the roar of a Jackson guitar fed through a couple of distortion pedals into a Marshall stack and the cannon barrage of double bass pedal. What the hell? As we walked closer we saw crusties, and gutter punx, and nu-metal heads, and drifter looking kids, and some classic metal fans. Continuing to follow the noise of destruction, the rank smell of piss and body odor and general hygiene disavowal hung thick in the air like fog. What the fuck was this? It was Maryland Death Fest (said throatily and while holding up both hands in metal signs). It looked pretty awesome honestly, and oddly enough, wasn't the only hardcore festival we'd accidentally run into on this trip. Other than that we saw a row of strip clubs, and the touristy part of the wharf. That was Baltimore for me.