To where I left off.... disappointed about not meeting many of the bands this evening but still having a grand ole time in the front row watching Max Cavalera and Co. tear up the rather small venue that is the Fillmore in Irving Plaza. I had a goal this morning when I woke up to shower off all the sweat and sludge from the previous night - I WAS GOING TO MEET, CHAT AND HANG OUT WITH ROCK STARS.... and those who pretended to be rock stars.
So I arrived around 1:30pm, despite the fact that the doors didn't open until 7pm and the show to begin at 8pm. Still, I arrived hoping to see some people from bands arrive so I can swoop in, get my pics, and ask them random questions in order to beef up my great heavy metal screenplay from people who actually live it, rather than from those who wished they could live it. All that was there when I arrived was the van for Bury Your Dead. Eventually a couple of the BYD people returned and I got a chance to speak with their drummer Mark Castillo, a fill-in guitarist for Eric Ellis, and road manager Brian. I was mostly intrigued by my conversation with Mark involving his future in the band and in metal. He mentioned about the highs and lows of touring, not making any money (even telling me how much he had in his account - possibly exaggerated amount), seeing the world (like Russia), and eventually settling down with his current girlfriend. Despite it all, he says he will probably go at this for another five years and then... who knows!
Through the course of several hours, the bands arrived. Dillinger Escape Plan came in their luxury bus, while Throwdown came in their van, and the guys from Incite came via taxicab. But the biggies, Cavalera Conspiracy hadn't arrived yet. Well, sort of. Guitarist Marc Rizzo and touring bassist Johny Chow of Fireball Ministry came by and were still as cool as ever, posing for pics and just chatting with me and my buddies like long-time friends. Throwdown drummer Ben Dussault was also cool enough to hang about with us a bit before going inside for soundcheck.
I did have a rather funny moment with the Dillinger Escape Plan, specifically with frontman Greg Puciato and his obnoxious, loud-mouth girlfriend who we shall refer to as "The Cunt." First, Greg was a very nice guy who gave me a big friendly hug when he recognized me from the night before when he dove right into me and we were chatting and having a good time. Me being an honest and very blunt guy, I told Greg that:
1) I didn't think much of DEP's music and that I downloaded Ire Works for free (which he didn't mind at all).
2) That he should leave the crazy theatrics to Mike Patton.
3) Was his last name pronounced like "pussy-ato" or the correct way in Italian.
4) That he's short.
5) If he sees DEP lasting long in the metal world.
And of course, the Cunt, being a female, had to chime in and call me an "asshole" because I wasn't licking this dude's nuts and acting like a typical idiot metal fan and instead was blunt and honest. My only question and answer to Greg was, if that was his girlfriend, which he said "yes" and I told him to dump her! Well, that's when Greg got sour and said to me: "Hey, that's my girlfriend and I'm going to marry her." And with that, he turned around and went back into his bus. I guess Greg wanted to shoot up more steroids or lick his wounds, or something. Even DEP guitarist Jeff Tuttle looked pretty disgusted at me.
Dave Peters of Throwdown was a bit more humorous and good-spirited, despite the fact that I basically called him a second-rate Phil Anselmo. Well, I didn't say it like that, but I did point out that many people view the new album "Venom & Tears" as a slight rip-off of Pantera's 1992 classic "Vulgar Display of Power." But Dave was still cool about it, even welcoming the comparison. Though, it bugs me that so many guys try to capture something that will never be again. Spirit, maybe? Jamey Jasta from Hatebreed suffers from an Anselmo-esque complex, as does Peters and Randy Blythe of Lamb of God. Let's face it, Anselmo is the last of the great frontmen of metal. No more originality!
Okay, enough outside shit. Time to move this story back inside the Fillmore - where there was no fat, nappy-headed black guy to be crowding my space and snatching my trinkets. Instead, three buddies, one old and two new, took up space with me and we raged! Just like in the same order as the night before, Incite opened up the show and kicked it up a notch. The same schtick occurred, like Richie hitting himself in the head with his mic, and Zak pounding his crash cymbal like a drunken man beats his wife. I have to say it again, this is the first opening band to get me moving at this early a night. Other than that, the set was basically the same quick 20 minutes of showing Max's little stepson that he can rage too. A bit amateurish in some instances, like Richie trying to incite (no pun intended) a mosh-pit but to no avail. (Side note: Speaking of Phil Anselmo, Incite guitarist Dis - who dis? - looked almost exactly like him. Check my pics in my Metal Bros section to see.) Zak was still a beast on the kit, and bassist Marrufo and Dis were pretty damn good... at least for a newbie band. They have a long way to go, but they'll probably get there... maybe!
Second band up was Bury Your Dead. A much better showing than last night, and they got to play more songs, too. Their music won't set the world on fire, but they give it the ole college try. Slim B. was once again a bit too winded and oafish looking to be in this band. Judging from the way he sweat last night, he must have taken off a few pounds. And he was a bit of a dick outside when we took our photo together. Chris whats-his-name, who is filling in for Eric Ellis after his attack, was good but lacked the spontaneous energy as the other three. Mark, the drummer, looked pretty focused and at time pointed his stick at me, while Bubble played his bass like a dude who has his shit together. Frontman Myke Terry seems like a nice guy who at times looks like he lacks confidence in himself and at times the songs suffer for it.
Throwdown was the third band to throwdown and delivered the same goods as before, with exception of moving "Holy Roller" to the end rather than as the first song. It was actually move that worked against them. The energy didn't match up as the night before. It was only until the very end, that it truly picked up being "Holy Roller," much like Pantera's "Walk," is the sort of song that gets people pumped and ready for anything, up to and including violence and inflicting pain on others. Nice guy and slammin' drummer Ben Dussault pointed his sticks at me, much like Castillo before him, as an acknowledgement of my commitment to seeing these guys play. And Dave Peters was sporting a beauty of a black-eye, courtesy of guitarist Mark Choinere, who accidentally whacked him with his guitar. If I was Dave, I would've said some pussy sucker-punched me and I beat his fuckin' ass! At least, that's what Phil Anselmo would have done.
Fourth band up were my buddies from DEP. A somewhat safer and tranquil set from last night. No stage-diving into yours truly or slamming the china-hat cymbal up on the rafters. I'd say it was pretty PG-rated. Sadly, not much to say except guitarist Ben Weinman seemed desperate to get into the crowd and play his riffs for us, and Greg literally jumped into the moshpit... STILL SINGING! From what I saw, the moshers celebrated him by jumping on top of him as the song ended. Oh, and I caught drummer Gil Sharone's autographed Pro-Mark sticks. (Another stick in two fuckin' days! WOO-HOO!) By the way, who the fuck dresses Sharone? Nice guy that he seems to be, he dresses like a fuckin' tool. Same clothes in the last two days... must be his signature outfit!
Finally, it was time for Cavalera Conspiracy, and the wait was well worth it. Max came out and everybody was pumped. Marc came out, and so did Johny Chow. And Iggor (who I shall make an example of at the end of this blog - skip down and read) took his place at his kit. The set opened with "Inflikted" from the new album once again and the place erupted. Like last night, we were treated several Sepultura gems like "Arise," "Beneath the Remains," "Refuse/Resist," "Dead Embryonic Cells," "Inner Self" (not from last night), "Territory," "Biotech Is Godzilla" (another new addition from last night), "Propaganda," and show-closer "Roots, Bloody Roots." Igor Jr. got to play again, and was still pretty good, though still a bit shaky in some parts. At times, Max pointed me out and I to him, culminating in him personally handing me his green guitar pick. Other times, he was gracious enough to throw cold water and his can of Pepsi to myself and many in the front row. Needless to say, it was once again a blast! And then, it was over.
I parked myself in the same place as the night before hoping to find Max and Iggor and get a quick picture with them. Well, I succeeded with one of them, and he was more of the goal in mind - MAX FUCKIN' CAVALERA! Despite the asshole security trying to move him past the fans, Max was cool enough to do a quick photo with me, as you can see in my MySpace photo, and briefly hear my story of how my older brother and I had the same problems as Max and Iggor and eventually made up because of them. He seemed to genuinely want to hear my story but security were moving him away. But I was happy. And I expected Iggor to meet my expectations and stick around this time for a picture since there were no faggety DJ gigs tonight. Well, he came out alright, but this time with family in tow. And he moved right past us without stopping for a picture. Iggor Cavalera proved that he is in fact a DOUCHEBAG! A pathetic, sorry-excuse-for-a-human, piece of trash! Without us fans supporting him, he wouldn't getting luxury buses for his family, or have security-protection. Sorry, but Iggor, and even Max, are NOT important enough for that kind of treatment. I think Iggor is a scumbag prick and doesn't deserve his brother's success.
Max Cavalera and Andreas Kisser carried Sepultura, and Iggor didn't contribute a goddamn thing! Oh, he's still a helluva drummer, but he's still a fat, ugly, Cro-Magnon-looking douchebag dragging knuckles on the ground. FUCK YOU, IGGOR! The new target for my verbal assault is no longer Rob Douche, but Iggor "the Hunchback" Cavalera. Max is the man, Iggor is a bitch! Out of all the bands and people I took a picture with, the one person who didn't get, was Schmiggor. Fuck you!
Funny moment of the evening was when these two hot groupies tried to get on DEP's bus, but they wouldn't let them. The one girl, a redhead, ran her fingers in my hair and said she liked it, while the other, a blonde, was cooing to me about not getting on the bus. I told them that the buses were loaded with family and kids, and that right now wasn't a good time. But these two girls were smoking and I honestly think I could've banged the both of them. But being a gentleman and having to get to work in the morning, I just couldn't. I'm sure the three of us would have had some great fun, though. ]:)
But I did come away with some happy memories and a great time!
Show Grade: 9.5 out of 10 (A)
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