A fun, exhausting evening that almost turned deadly for me. Lack of food, water, and a throng of idiots crushing me against the barricade were slight obstacles that I suffered through but managed to get over. It was a chance to see a couple legends (Max and Iggor Cavalera) and some upstarts at work.
I arrived pretty early, about 3pm, because I knew from the Summer Slaughter tour that this show was going to be crazy! Well, when I got there, there were some people already in line, but not enough to snake around the corner like said Summer Slaughter tour. A few familiar faces from BB King showed up and were ready to tear it up, and of course the usual inane and very stupid conversations between metalhead: (in a buffoonish voice) "I saw Monstrosity play the other day at the Knitting Factory" or "Are you going to Metal Masters Tour" or "Slayer can't quit!" or "I hate Lamb of God!" or "Fuck the emos!" You get the idea. Are there any more intellligent metalheads left? Am I the only one?
Once the show started, it got better. I got from front row standing on and was pretty impressed with Incite, the first band's set, the first time an opening band ever made me move! Now, mind you, this is Max Cavalera's stepson Richie's band, so I didn't expect much. Well, the kid is a chip off the old step-block. Step-Daddy must be proud that his little step-child can put words together and actually pose as a real frontman. Zak, their drummer, played like a man on a mission, practically killing his cymbals like he must be the bastard child of Iggor but looks more like an LOTR hobbit. I managed to catch a drumstick (first band out and already a souvenir) and some water-spit as well.
Bury Your Dead were the next band up and problems abounded apparently due to a short setlist and a shitty sound tech not handling their music properly. Still, their energy and momentum was solid, but a lack of knowledge of their music made me a bit disinterested. A band name that sounds like it belongs to a death metal band, but instead to a band that is influenced by Motley Crue, according to their MySpace page. Oh, and what is the deal with their songs having to do with Tom Cruise? Sounds like someone in the band has a gay man-crush on Sir Psycho Tom.
Throwdown were the third band to kick it, and kick it they did finally with "Holy Roller" as the first song to send the crowd into a frenzied overdrive mode. At one point this fat, black nappy-headed dude actually had the balls to muscle his way to the front of the crowd. I'm almost tempted to call this guy a nigger because he acted like a low-class black person. For a guy who weighed a good 200 pounds less than this guy, I managed to hold my own throughout the show. I'll be damned if anyone pushes me out of the front row - black or white, man or woman, young or old, fat or skinny or muscular! Needless to say, throughout the next three sets, it became a battle against a black man-mountain to maintain my spot, which I succeeded. Oh, yeah, back to Throwdown! Well, Peters pulled off his best Anselmo circa-1992 persona and played some old shit and new shit off "Venom & Tears." Ben Dussault is definitely the drummer to watch, as he excels throughout and manages to keep going, despite losing his stick and playing with one hand. Total dedication!
Band 4 was Dillinger Escape Plan, who made a splashy intro with noise, screams, and idiosyncratic hijinks that included, and mostly performed by frontman Greg Puciato, hanging upside down from the balcony bars and jumping up on the rafters and destroying a china-hat cymbal. I'm all for hijinks and theatrics, but you have to ask yourself, is your music really that good if you have to resort to this type of shit? That explains Kiss and pretty much any glam band from the 80s. Oh, and did I also mention that Puciato dove into the crowd and onto me? Thankfully, there was no damage - no busted noses, lips, or blood shed at all - and I, and the band, were able to carry on. (Interesting side note, the nappy-headed black guy actually helped me up when I fell down.)
Finally, it was time for Cavalera Conspiracy! I was pumped! The crowd was pumped! And the Conspiracy was pumped! They opened up with "Inflikted" and "Sanctuary" off the new CC album before going into some classic Sepultura tunes, including "Refuse/Resist," "Beneath the Remains," "Orgasmatron," "Propaganda," and show-closer "Roots, Bloody Roots." At one point, Iggor stepped down from his kit during an interlude to allow Max's son, Igor Jr., play for a while. For a kid who is only 13, he knew what he was doing. I guess Dad taught him well. Max even wore a Death t-shirt, as did I, which only goes to show his good taste in metal bands. Marc Rizzo played that guitar of his the way a man fucks his chick; and Fireball Ministry's Johny Chow, who I mistakenly had thought was Gojira's Joe DuPlantier, who did bass duties on the album, ripped the bass line wide open. Despite having sweat, water, and soda all over me, it was a good time.
Outside, still recuperating from nearly getting asphyxiated in the crowd, I waited to see if I could get a quick picture with Max and Iggor. Surprisingly, the security said that Max had already left the show. Bummer! Well, there was still Iggor, but unfortunately he wasn't in the mood for pics as he continued forward and hailed a cab to take him to some DJ gig at Webster Hall. WHAT THE FUCK? He's a DJ now? That's so laughable it's almost sad! But I guess I can understand it if he was running late, but a quick photo won't hurt anyone. His loss, anyway, but maybe he'll be in better spirits tomorrow and there won't be any lame DJ gigs in town. (Mixhell? How fuckin' gay is that?)
Show Grade: 9 out of 10 (A-)
Until tomorrow....
TO BE CONTINUED
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