Much like the last show I went to, this was the first time I saw at least three of the four bands performing live this evening - Dirge Within, Chimaira, and Metallica Lite.... I mean, Trivium - at the always packed and always body-odor-smelling venue, the Fillmore. Jammed in the front row by the usual hundreds-plus sweaty, smelly, ugly and uneducated losers that I spend a good four-five hours fending off flying bodies, there really wasn't much anticipation for me in the beginning. I mean, Dirge Within? Who? And Whitechapel? Another lame, ragtag group coming from this piece-of-shit genre "deathcore"? Who cares! The real reason the pimply-faced youths are here is to see Chimaira, who played a very lackluster set surprisingly, and headliners Metallica Jr. - I mean, Trivium - who play their best impression of 13-year-old kids playing their favorite Machine Head tunes with their own brand of Disney Pop Thrash. But for a junior-league night like tonight, it wasn't a complete waste of time.
DIRGE WITHIN - Yet another band fronted by another Anselmo clone, though this night is populated by those, this Chicago group wasn't all that distasteful. They had enough groove-driven, thrashy riffs that would make the ghosts of Pantera proud. The frontman borrows much of the Anselmo confidence by placing a foot on the monitor and trying, in vain, to start early mosh pits. Still, the energy from the crowd seems rather positive and may prove to develop a following someday in the future. Set Grade: B-
WHITECHAPEL - This is the second time I had the misfortune of seeing these Metal Blade little leaguers, the first being at last year's "Summer Slaughter" borefest. This time around, nothing has changed except the continued growth of my disdain for "deathcore" and all these goddamn untalented kids who invest our small metal market with this shit! To paraphrase Marilyn Manson's "Great Big White World" in order to describe the two times I've seen Whitechapel, "nothing changes, nothing grows." I swear, I could take that first performance and compare it to tonight's show and it would be the same show. The same incoherent songs, the same clothes they wore, and the same faggoty bouncing that they do.... especially from their fat-ass bassist. Like Converge before, these assholes have no place on tonight's bill, or any bill for that matter. I think Slagel would be wise to drop these pricks so they can corrode another label who deserve it.... like Victory Records! Set Grade: C-
CHIMAIRA - So now we get to the big, bad, tough-guy six-man team from Ohio whose entire back catalogue is best suited for the brutal, uncivilized dwellings of MMA and UFC arenas. Playing off their new release "The Infection" which kicks off with "The Venom Inside", the band starts off with high energy, but gradually dissipates rather quickly. I really expected to have people landing on my head, dudes next to me punching me in the face, and just all-around insanity and mayhem. But of course, this is a Chimaira set, not Cannibal Corpse. Judging from bassist Jim LaMarca's constant "come on" and "wake up" from stage, I think other people in the crowd weren't very impressed, either. I realize that the band doesn't play to the audience but for themselves. Guitarists Rob Arnold and Matt DeVries play in their zone, their own headspace, rather than really play for those who come to see them. I think frontman Mark Hunter would be the first to admit that the band plays for themselves and fuck everyone else if they don't like it. And because of that, the crowd loses interest and gives a big fuck you right back at you, Mark. Set Grade: B
TRIVIUM - Personally, I can't understand how guys like "Baby Metallica" can earn the respect and eventual tour slots with the likes of Metallica, Megadeth (Gigantour), Slayer (Unholy Alliance), and Machine Head or develop an appeal from the metal masses. Sure, Matt Heafy is a nice kid and comes off like a capable frontman, especially when it comes to rapping with the crowd, a la Hetfield, but these guys barely muster anything truly their own except their own fanboy fantasies. Sure, the ugly pigs who come to their shows think they're cute and have to drag their pathetic boyfriends to come with them, and maybe there is some musical appeal there, but I can't get past the fact that they are "trying" to be like their heroes. The substitute for absent drummer Travis Smith seemed to be having a difficult time playing the drums and keeping the sweat out of his eyes, which was about the only thing remotely amusing. Set Grade: B-
AFTER THE SHOW - The fuckheads of Chimaira bailed out on meeting fans, much to their disappointment, but were rewarded with the members of Trivium instead, which isn't that great a trade-off really. Bassist Paolo Gregoletto confided in me that he was sick and needed to go to sleep, but was decent enough to take a pic with me, the only one to do so, and Matt Heafy, looking like ever so effeminate and delicate like a Japanese Geisha girl in his satin scarf and coat, braved the cold to take pics and sign autographs. But my biggest gripe and eventual target for my venom of the evening went to Corey "FatFuck" Beaulieu. The portly, absent-minded kid seemed more content to schmooze with Roadrunne Records bigwig assholes than chat with fans. Sure, he signed autographs and took pics, but when it came to gift-giving by yours truly, he simply took it and without so much as a "thank-you" (until i reminded him) went back in the bus and stayed for several minutes. When he came back out alone, I asked him for my gift back. Shocked and confused, he handed me back the gift and apologized. Still, not willing to let it go, I proceed to tell him to be more appreciative to fans and not to be an ignorant douchebag. Just then, his phone rings and HE TAKES THE FUCKING CALL!!!!!! In doing so, he reinforces exactly what I am yelling at him about. So I wish him luck on the next album and tell him to go fuck himself before departing. It felt good doing so!
Show Grade: B-
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment