It was nearly ten months ago that I finally got to see my favorite metal band of all time, the one band that actually got me into the metal scene, performing live before yours truly. At Nassau Coliseum, Metallica played an amazing show filled with lasers, multi-colored flames, and of course, some killer 'Tallica classics and newer ones from their latest album. Here at MSG, it's pretty much the same thing here - the lasers, the flames, the killer tunes both old and new (some would say they played too many newer songs), the electricity in the air and anticipation from the sold-out crowd - but make no mistake, Metallica owned the Garden and proved that they are still the kings of metal and heavy (or hard) rock! My guess is that anyone who had a bad thing to say about Metallica before tonight were promptly silenced.
On this leg of the tour, Volbeat have replaced The Sword while Lamb of God have replaced Machine Head. As with the Nassau show back in January, the first two bands failed to really impress or excite me. Again, much like in the case of The Sword and Machine Head, the sheer size of the stage and the magnitude of the acoustics booming throughout arena, seemed to completely swallow up show-openers Volbeat and, surprisingly, second-tiers Lamb of God. It wasn't until the headliners Metallica took the stage and business began to pick up. Needless to say, Metallica delivered! Mosh pits took form almost immediately as the first riffs from "That Was Just Your Life" began to play throughout the Garden. What surprised me the most was that the pits kept moving even during a couple of the slower, less thrashy songs. Though, in all honesty, from my vantage point, the pits looked quite tame and pitiful by comparison to others I've seen. Either way, when they played "Sad But True", people were on their feet! When they played the familiar but still somewhat obscure, Diamond Head cover in "Helpless", they were on thir feet! Even during another cover, Bob Seger's "Turn the Page", people were on their feet AND singing along!
Of course, there were some rough parts. For example, frontman James Hetfield constantly rapping to the audience about being "part of the Metallica family" and "your love makes us feel really good" came off more like schmaltzy begging, like an employee pleading to his boss for a raise, rather than firm salutations and good wishes. Watching Lars Ulrich slinking and swaggering around the stage, teasing fans with cups of water and middle fingers really rubbed me the wrong way. I guess he's just keeping up the perceptions as how the media and former fans/haters view him as: a greedy, arrogant businessman pretending to be and posing as a drummer. And at times, the songs tend to drag along endlessly, as some newbie Metallica fans who aren't yet familiar with their music look quite bored and confused. In the end, when they drop their black Death Magnetic beach balls during "Seek & Destroy" again, both newbie and Metallica veterans are on their feet as the set ends after two hours of ear-splitting metal. Yes, the boys still got it!
VOLBEAT - Danish group playing (and sound like) Clutch-style rock. I wasn't impressed. These guys are mediocre at best and will remain as show-openers forever. Set Grade: C
LAMB OF GOD - Virginian thrashers who played all the right songs and made all the right moves, but an antipathic crowd of macho frat-boy, homophobic college jocks more interested in the heavy rock sounds of Godsmack or Disturbed, prove that LoG are not ready for the mainstream like Metallica, and may never will. Set Grade: B-
METALLICA - Another great show, but lacks the same dramatic and unexpected element that made the Nassau show so special. High energy performances from the band and an enthusiastic reaction from the sold-out crowd prove that Metallica are still masters of.... well, you know. Set Grade: B+
Overall Show Grade: B
Friday, November 20, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Trivium w/ Chimaira, Whitechapel and Dirge Within @ The Fillmore - 11/5/09
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-
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-
Monday, November 2, 2009
Dethklok & Mastodon w/ Converge and High on Fire @ Hammerstein Ballroom - 10/30/09
Tonight was an opportunity to finally get to see what all the fuss was about concerning Dethklok, who had a sold-out show last year at Nokia, and Mastodon, who also had a sold-out earlier this year at the Fillmore. As an admirer of the latter's latest Crack the Skye and great indifference to the former band altogether, as well as to the cartoon "Metalocalypse" itself, and in response to both bands' sold-out shows, when I heard that they were touring together I immediately got my tickets at the first local date to see them. Naturally and almost immediately this date was sold-out, which led to the 29th to open up for an extra date. Once I got in there, I expected a decent show and boy, did I get it! However, I will say that much of it had to do with the use of a screen in the background which led to some visual stimulation and thereby amping the sonic stimulation from the bands up to 11. Not to say that they cheated, but I would really like to compare tonight's show with another show involving Dethklok and Mastodon WITHOUT a screen in the background. I guarantee you the results would be vastly different!
HIGH ON FIRE - Riding the wave of their latest release Death Is This Communion, the stoner trio led by Matt Pike seem to get the night going. The crowd seems to dig the vibe and indeed Pike is enjoying himself, however not one joint is sparked! I can't you what songs were played because I'm not what you would call an HOF fan, but I can say that they warmed the crowd up nicely and were rewarded with ample cheers from the audience. Great energy and chaotic focus helps to sell HOF as possible stoner gods. Set Rating: B
CONVERGE - Off of their latest release Axe to Fall, this foursome seem to pick up the slack quite well, but they come off as the unlikely band on the bill - every tour has one of these - and they seem more comfortable on the Warped Tour than here. Frontman Jacob Bannon seems to enjoy bouncing around like a flea, which is what he reminded me of, swinging his arms around, waving, more bouncing and jumping, even more waving, and eventually screaming into the mic. At certain times, he reminded of Dillinger Escape Plan's singer Greg Puciato, almost as if they went to the same band camp and learned the same stage maneuvers from the same frontman handbook. The rest of the band played well, but the screeching noise that this band makes.... call it "Grindcore Jr.".... doesn't do anything for me except to start blogging on my iPhone. I don't anyone in the audience were that impressed either. Set Grade: C+
MASTODON - So finally it came down to the band I was most interested in seeing. A band whose entire back catalogue can go down the toilet or trash compactor and never see the light of day with the exception of their latest and quite possibly greatest release, the epic conceptual piece called Crack the Skye, which thankfully and expectedly was played in full from start to finish. From the opening riffs of "Oblivion" to the 13-minute closer of "The Last Baron", Mastodon played an incredible live set that featured, as mentioned above earlier, a widescreen of animation stills perhaps from the album booklet (I wouldn't know, I downloaded the album for free!) full of beautiful colors and what looked like silent films from 1900-1927, though I highly doubt these were actual films.... though I could be wrong, too. Brent Hinds even dressed the part, decked out in tight silver astro-pants and an Afro wig, adding to kooky, psychedelic vibe that Mastodon is known for. Once the band has finishing playing the entire seven-track album, they go right into playing one song from the last three albums, 2006's Blood Mountain, 2004's Leviathan, and 2002's Remission, before calling it a night. Again, I have to stress that they were helped greatly by the screen behind them, though not to take away from their abilities as a band. However, in the future, I would like to see if Mastodon can still hold up their own without the use of gimmicks and electronics and rely on the use of their instruments instead. But tonight, they get a pass. Set Grade: A
DETHKLOK - Promoting their latest release, Dethalbum II, the "band" led by Metalocalypse creator Brendon Small, more like a Mike Judge wannabe, makes use of the jumbo screen in the back just as Mastodon had used earlier to the full effect of engrossing and putting the already worn-out group of metalheads into a trance before they realize that four old men are really the brains and fingers behind Dethklok and not five animated men and decide to go home in tears. In reality, the screen actually makes great use of interludes when the band goes off to recoup, using episodic vignettes of past or maybe new episodes from the TV show. At the beginning, there's a moment where Jack Black is in character onscreen to promote the release of the heavy metal video game "Brutal Legend", which really isn't all that funny nor does it make me want to buy the game any faster, though believe me I shall! As a band, the old men on stage are actually pretty good! It helps to legendary thrash metal drummer Gene Hoglan to lend credibility, as well as Mike Keneally (who?) and Bryan Beller (no really, who?) to keep it going. Even Small, who does his best James Hetfield poses like some 40-year-old geek still living with his mother, looks like he knows what he is doing. But like I said about Mastodon, I would like to see Dethklok stripped (not MTV Unplugged style) of all its theatrics and background screen, and just be a band that plays. Guaranteed they would crumble and fail. But tonight, like Mastodon, they get a pass. Set Grade: A
AFTER THE SHOW - So after a rousing evening of satisfying my curiosity as to the appeal of the latter two bands, I decided to make my way out and introduce myself. I decided to skip meeting High on Fire and Converge and made my way to meet the members of Mastodon.
I spot guitarist and part-time vocalist Brent Hinds busy kissing his girlfriend (or wife) and catching up with friends. When we meet, he is friendly enough and we chat a bit before getting photos and going our separate ways. It begins to sour, however, when later I bring up the whole VMAs/William Hudson assault which left Hinds in bad shape. He bitterly tells me that he didn't have any money to pursue a lawsuit and thereby receiving justice for himself. Quite sad, actually. I try to get a picture with Troy Sanders, who behaves like a complete bitch and refuses to take pictures with yours truly, citing that "I don't do pics, man" and "I'm sick" as his excuse. Though as he is telling me this, I did manage to get a pic of him, which I'm not too satisfied with. I told him he should appreciate his fans more and I proceeded to call Sanders an "asshole" and a "douchebag" to his face, which he was not too thrilled about, but it made me feel much better. Next time will be different, and he'll be the one begging for a picture with me. Brann Dailor, who I had met earlier in the day at a Sam Ash signing, seems somewhat mellow and cautious about who he speaks to. I ask him random questions about this supposed film the band is trying to put together based on Crack the Skye which, in my opinion, will NEVER see the light of day. I ask him about his sister Skye, who at 14 committed suicide, on which the album is named for. Like the others, he seems somewhat taken aback and even annoyed by the questions, which isn't surprising or new to me. Bill Kelliher, who I had met the might before outside Hammerstein and was drunk off his mind, recognized me from an awful message I sent him on Facebook earlier in the day about his erratic behavior the night before, and playfully poked me in my belly. He seemed to also lose patience with me as I berated him with questions that were provocative and uncomfortable. His only defense was to ignore me, which didn't work until he retreated into the venue.
Meeting Dethklok was also fun! I got to see my old pal Gene Hoglan again and "kiss and make up" so to speak. Despite losing his mother and dear friend Michelle Meldrum, he comes across as humble, sweet and endearing to those around him, even those who went on record as to defame and insult his character to bloggers and readers online and ask awful questions in his time of mourning. Gene Hoglan proves that he is truly a man of class. The same cannot be said for arrogant jerkoffs and big-headed pricks like Brendon Small, who really does not have a humorous bone in his body. Still smarting from his rude comments last year at a bar, I brought it to his attention, and to his face, that I thought he is and will always be a rude prick and that I hate his cartoons. All he could muster was a five-second staredown, before continuing to sign autographs and take pictures with fans. When I jokingly asked for a picture with him and he refused, I called him an "asshole" in front of the fans, which drew lots of stares and hushed whispers.
FINAL THOUGHTS - Despite all the drama, I left the Hammerstein extremely happy! Happy to mix it up with Mastodon and that douchebag Small one more time, and making amends with Hoglan. I finally got to see and understand why Mastodon and Dethklok tend to sell out the venues and came away with a greater appreciation for the music, even if I download them for free! :-)
Show Grade: A-
HIGH ON FIRE - Riding the wave of their latest release Death Is This Communion, the stoner trio led by Matt Pike seem to get the night going. The crowd seems to dig the vibe and indeed Pike is enjoying himself, however not one joint is sparked! I can't you what songs were played because I'm not what you would call an HOF fan, but I can say that they warmed the crowd up nicely and were rewarded with ample cheers from the audience. Great energy and chaotic focus helps to sell HOF as possible stoner gods. Set Rating: B
CONVERGE - Off of their latest release Axe to Fall, this foursome seem to pick up the slack quite well, but they come off as the unlikely band on the bill - every tour has one of these - and they seem more comfortable on the Warped Tour than here. Frontman Jacob Bannon seems to enjoy bouncing around like a flea, which is what he reminded me of, swinging his arms around, waving, more bouncing and jumping, even more waving, and eventually screaming into the mic. At certain times, he reminded of Dillinger Escape Plan's singer Greg Puciato, almost as if they went to the same band camp and learned the same stage maneuvers from the same frontman handbook. The rest of the band played well, but the screeching noise that this band makes.... call it "Grindcore Jr.".... doesn't do anything for me except to start blogging on my iPhone. I don't anyone in the audience were that impressed either. Set Grade: C+
MASTODON - So finally it came down to the band I was most interested in seeing. A band whose entire back catalogue can go down the toilet or trash compactor and never see the light of day with the exception of their latest and quite possibly greatest release, the epic conceptual piece called Crack the Skye, which thankfully and expectedly was played in full from start to finish. From the opening riffs of "Oblivion" to the 13-minute closer of "The Last Baron", Mastodon played an incredible live set that featured, as mentioned above earlier, a widescreen of animation stills perhaps from the album booklet (I wouldn't know, I downloaded the album for free!) full of beautiful colors and what looked like silent films from 1900-1927, though I highly doubt these were actual films.... though I could be wrong, too. Brent Hinds even dressed the part, decked out in tight silver astro-pants and an Afro wig, adding to kooky, psychedelic vibe that Mastodon is known for. Once the band has finishing playing the entire seven-track album, they go right into playing one song from the last three albums, 2006's Blood Mountain, 2004's Leviathan, and 2002's Remission, before calling it a night. Again, I have to stress that they were helped greatly by the screen behind them, though not to take away from their abilities as a band. However, in the future, I would like to see if Mastodon can still hold up their own without the use of gimmicks and electronics and rely on the use of their instruments instead. But tonight, they get a pass. Set Grade: A
DETHKLOK - Promoting their latest release, Dethalbum II, the "band" led by Metalocalypse creator Brendon Small, more like a Mike Judge wannabe, makes use of the jumbo screen in the back just as Mastodon had used earlier to the full effect of engrossing and putting the already worn-out group of metalheads into a trance before they realize that four old men are really the brains and fingers behind Dethklok and not five animated men and decide to go home in tears. In reality, the screen actually makes great use of interludes when the band goes off to recoup, using episodic vignettes of past or maybe new episodes from the TV show. At the beginning, there's a moment where Jack Black is in character onscreen to promote the release of the heavy metal video game "Brutal Legend", which really isn't all that funny nor does it make me want to buy the game any faster, though believe me I shall! As a band, the old men on stage are actually pretty good! It helps to legendary thrash metal drummer Gene Hoglan to lend credibility, as well as Mike Keneally (who?) and Bryan Beller (no really, who?) to keep it going. Even Small, who does his best James Hetfield poses like some 40-year-old geek still living with his mother, looks like he knows what he is doing. But like I said about Mastodon, I would like to see Dethklok stripped (not MTV Unplugged style) of all its theatrics and background screen, and just be a band that plays. Guaranteed they would crumble and fail. But tonight, like Mastodon, they get a pass. Set Grade: A
AFTER THE SHOW - So after a rousing evening of satisfying my curiosity as to the appeal of the latter two bands, I decided to make my way out and introduce myself. I decided to skip meeting High on Fire and Converge and made my way to meet the members of Mastodon.
I spot guitarist and part-time vocalist Brent Hinds busy kissing his girlfriend (or wife) and catching up with friends. When we meet, he is friendly enough and we chat a bit before getting photos and going our separate ways. It begins to sour, however, when later I bring up the whole VMAs/William Hudson assault which left Hinds in bad shape. He bitterly tells me that he didn't have any money to pursue a lawsuit and thereby receiving justice for himself. Quite sad, actually. I try to get a picture with Troy Sanders, who behaves like a complete bitch and refuses to take pictures with yours truly, citing that "I don't do pics, man" and "I'm sick" as his excuse. Though as he is telling me this, I did manage to get a pic of him, which I'm not too satisfied with. I told him he should appreciate his fans more and I proceeded to call Sanders an "asshole" and a "douchebag" to his face, which he was not too thrilled about, but it made me feel much better. Next time will be different, and he'll be the one begging for a picture with me. Brann Dailor, who I had met earlier in the day at a Sam Ash signing, seems somewhat mellow and cautious about who he speaks to. I ask him random questions about this supposed film the band is trying to put together based on Crack the Skye which, in my opinion, will NEVER see the light of day. I ask him about his sister Skye, who at 14 committed suicide, on which the album is named for. Like the others, he seems somewhat taken aback and even annoyed by the questions, which isn't surprising or new to me. Bill Kelliher, who I had met the might before outside Hammerstein and was drunk off his mind, recognized me from an awful message I sent him on Facebook earlier in the day about his erratic behavior the night before, and playfully poked me in my belly. He seemed to also lose patience with me as I berated him with questions that were provocative and uncomfortable. His only defense was to ignore me, which didn't work until he retreated into the venue.
Meeting Dethklok was also fun! I got to see my old pal Gene Hoglan again and "kiss and make up" so to speak. Despite losing his mother and dear friend Michelle Meldrum, he comes across as humble, sweet and endearing to those around him, even those who went on record as to defame and insult his character to bloggers and readers online and ask awful questions in his time of mourning. Gene Hoglan proves that he is truly a man of class. The same cannot be said for arrogant jerkoffs and big-headed pricks like Brendon Small, who really does not have a humorous bone in his body. Still smarting from his rude comments last year at a bar, I brought it to his attention, and to his face, that I thought he is and will always be a rude prick and that I hate his cartoons. All he could muster was a five-second staredown, before continuing to sign autographs and take pictures with fans. When I jokingly asked for a picture with him and he refused, I called him an "asshole" in front of the fans, which drew lots of stares and hushed whispers.
FINAL THOUGHTS - Despite all the drama, I left the Hammerstein extremely happy! Happy to mix it up with Mastodon and that douchebag Small one more time, and making amends with Hoglan. I finally got to see and understand why Mastodon and Dethklok tend to sell out the venues and came away with a greater appreciation for the music, even if I download them for free! :-)
Show Grade: A-
Type O Negative w/ Seventh Void, Destrophy and Dead Men Dreaming @ Nokia Theatre - 10/22/09
A night dominated by the legendary Brooklyn doom/goth metal band Type O Negative that has its members venture off into party rock territory with Seventh Void and flocked with upstart bands (Dead Men Dreaming and Destrophy) who favor looks and flexing sweaty muscles over talent and creating mood.
DEAD MEN DREAMING - Pretty decent openers actually make the most of their extended time by singing randomly cheesy cover songs and actually making them work. They're onstage a bit too long, but the crowd doesn't seem to mind. A little more finesse and execution is needed for band and they may actually develop a following.... maybe! Set Grade: B-
SEVENTH VOID - the second-tier members of Type O Negative break away from the iron grip of frontman Pete Steele to produce a more rocking affair than the usual doom and gloom o the former band. Kenny Hickey does his best Chris Cornell impression at the mic while the rest of the band seem to follow along to a beat that is all their own. But there is no evidence to suggest that this venture is nothing more than just side project and will probably not be around once Type O eventually dissolves. They're typical for a rock band, but the change of pace away from Type O is a welcome one. Set Grade: B-
DESTROPHY - As good as these guys are, I can't help but wish for their set to end quickly so that Type O Negative can finally take the stage. From what I see, the band is pretty tight and the song aren't bad, but I just want to see the final act and go home already. No doubt the girls are digging the frontman, who plays like an amped-up James Hetfield but with sweaty muscled arms and none of the horrid tattoos. But in metal, looks don't matter much or make your band any better. Set Grade: B-
TYPE O NEGATIVE - Despite former Playgirl centerfold Pete Steele's shockingly overweight frame - complete with man-boobs! - members involved with other projects, and the absence of band keyboardist Josh Silver, the "Drab Four" (minus Silver) are still at the top of their game this evening. Even when the set tends to meander now and then, and quite often, they steer it back on course with some favorite cuts from albums past. The presentation is massive enough, decked out in green curtains and green lighting with the "circle around the minus" symbol that represents the band's moniker, and frontman/bassist Steele engages in some witty banter with the crowd and the briefly missing Kenny Hickey, who steps offstage to retrieve a new guitar but seems to be gone for minutes. Great moments come with show opener "Dead Again," the midway point of "Profits of Doom" and the epic encore of the 11-minute "Black No. 1". Set Grade: B+
AFTER THE SHOW
I personally got into some banter with Type O Negative/Seventh Void drummer Johnny Kelly about Facebook, and his reasoning behind it is simply retarded. He is not what you would call a bright guy. Hank Hell and Matt Brown of Seventh Void are gentlemen, and Pete Steele, aka Lurch, is.... quite a character! His sense of humor and wit is sharp and he seems to have answer for every question, no matter how ridiculous it may be. At one point, I ask him if there are plans for another Playgirl spread, to which he quickly replies: "Once is enough." And truthfully, at this point in his life, who would want to see an out-of-shape, fat and old Pete Steele naked?
Show Grade: B
DEAD MEN DREAMING - Pretty decent openers actually make the most of their extended time by singing randomly cheesy cover songs and actually making them work. They're onstage a bit too long, but the crowd doesn't seem to mind. A little more finesse and execution is needed for band and they may actually develop a following.... maybe! Set Grade: B-
SEVENTH VOID - the second-tier members of Type O Negative break away from the iron grip of frontman Pete Steele to produce a more rocking affair than the usual doom and gloom o the former band. Kenny Hickey does his best Chris Cornell impression at the mic while the rest of the band seem to follow along to a beat that is all their own. But there is no evidence to suggest that this venture is nothing more than just side project and will probably not be around once Type O eventually dissolves. They're typical for a rock band, but the change of pace away from Type O is a welcome one. Set Grade: B-
DESTROPHY - As good as these guys are, I can't help but wish for their set to end quickly so that Type O Negative can finally take the stage. From what I see, the band is pretty tight and the song aren't bad, but I just want to see the final act and go home already. No doubt the girls are digging the frontman, who plays like an amped-up James Hetfield but with sweaty muscled arms and none of the horrid tattoos. But in metal, looks don't matter much or make your band any better. Set Grade: B-
TYPE O NEGATIVE - Despite former Playgirl centerfold Pete Steele's shockingly overweight frame - complete with man-boobs! - members involved with other projects, and the absence of band keyboardist Josh Silver, the "Drab Four" (minus Silver) are still at the top of their game this evening. Even when the set tends to meander now and then, and quite often, they steer it back on course with some favorite cuts from albums past. The presentation is massive enough, decked out in green curtains and green lighting with the "circle around the minus" symbol that represents the band's moniker, and frontman/bassist Steele engages in some witty banter with the crowd and the briefly missing Kenny Hickey, who steps offstage to retrieve a new guitar but seems to be gone for minutes. Great moments come with show opener "Dead Again," the midway point of "Profits of Doom" and the epic encore of the 11-minute "Black No. 1". Set Grade: B+
AFTER THE SHOW
I personally got into some banter with Type O Negative/Seventh Void drummer Johnny Kelly about Facebook, and his reasoning behind it is simply retarded. He is not what you would call a bright guy. Hank Hell and Matt Brown of Seventh Void are gentlemen, and Pete Steele, aka Lurch, is.... quite a character! His sense of humor and wit is sharp and he seems to have answer for every question, no matter how ridiculous it may be. At one point, I ask him if there are plans for another Playgirl spread, to which he quickly replies: "Once is enough." And truthfully, at this point in his life, who would want to see an out-of-shape, fat and old Pete Steele naked?
Show Grade: B
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Soulfly w/ Prong, Cattle Decapitation, Mutiny Within @ Blender Theater - 10/19/09
If Soulfly is looking to sell tickets, then my advice would be for them to beef up its billing potential. No offense to the other bands like Cattle Decapitation, whose stage performance really betrays all the hype that they get in the metal media, but they really don't measure up to the kind of billpower that one would expect. Prong is an admirable find, and bode well with the thrash/groove style of Soulfly, or at least Max Cavalera-era Sepultura, but nothing on this bill suggests the average concertgoer got his $30 worth in tonight's performance.
MUTINY WITHIN - For a band signed to Roadrunner, they're pretty tepid and weak. Set Grade: C+
CATTLE DECAPITATION - The singer drools and slobbers his way through the set while the rest of the band members try to keep up with the speed that proves too exhausting for the listener in the crowd. For a band that has so much push from label Metal Blade, the band falls short of capturing any interest or respectability. Set Grade: C
PRONG - Tommy Victor rebounds admirably despite an extremely slow start. Prong has lost considerable steam in recent years, but the crowd seems to warm up nicely as Victor leads the crowd into groovy choruses and pushes those in the back to sing along. Still, the crowd is merely saving itself for the Soulfly onslaught, provided that some classic and familiar Sepultura tunes are played. Set Grade: B-
SOULFLY - They barely manage to salvage the lackluster show by pulling out favorite metal gems and classic Sepultura songs because, frankly, no one really cares about Soulfly's catalogue, save for a few songs. Still, not as exciting or original as shows past, and a somewhat dismal appearance by Richie Cavalera on "Unleash" doesn't really help much, but Max and company still move the crowd in fits and cause near riots in the front row. Set Grade: B-
Show Grade: B-
MUTINY WITHIN - For a band signed to Roadrunner, they're pretty tepid and weak. Set Grade: C+
CATTLE DECAPITATION - The singer drools and slobbers his way through the set while the rest of the band members try to keep up with the speed that proves too exhausting for the listener in the crowd. For a band that has so much push from label Metal Blade, the band falls short of capturing any interest or respectability. Set Grade: C
PRONG - Tommy Victor rebounds admirably despite an extremely slow start. Prong has lost considerable steam in recent years, but the crowd seems to warm up nicely as Victor leads the crowd into groovy choruses and pushes those in the back to sing along. Still, the crowd is merely saving itself for the Soulfly onslaught, provided that some classic and familiar Sepultura tunes are played. Set Grade: B-
SOULFLY - They barely manage to salvage the lackluster show by pulling out favorite metal gems and classic Sepultura songs because, frankly, no one really cares about Soulfly's catalogue, save for a few songs. Still, not as exciting or original as shows past, and a somewhat dismal appearance by Richie Cavalera on "Unleash" doesn't really help much, but Max and company still move the crowd in fits and cause near riots in the front row. Set Grade: B-
Show Grade: B-
Monday, September 28, 2009
Down w/ Melvins & Weedeater @ Nokia Theatre - 9/11/0Down w/ Melvins & Weedeater @ Nokia Theatre - 9/11/09
On a day of what should have been one of remembrance and sadness for the people who lost their lives during the terrorist attacks eight years ago, was a day of great celebration surrounded by a cloud of marijuana and metal. That is not to say that this tragic day and the heinous events that unfolded were overlooked... in fact, Seattle stoner legends the Melvins led an impromptu sing-along of "O Say Can You See" with members of Down and Weedeater joining them onstage. The bands are no doubt proud to be Americans and share this love of their country with those in attendance, even going so far as to order anybody wearing a hat to take it off and place their right hand over their heart and sing.
Upon meeting the members of Down, I found guitarist Kirk Windstein and drummer Jimmy Bower to be in good spirits despite the fact that bassist Rex Brown couldn't make the rest of the tour due to his chronic pancreatitis and being replaced by fellow NOLA player Danny Theriot, who did an admirable but otherwise ho-hum performance. Guitarist Pepper Keenan was, in a word, a douchebag. I'm not too surprised or bothered by this. Whatever his contributions are to the band, his surly attitude and inability to connect with fans, or at least put forth an effort to connect, rubs me the wrong way and needs to learn to respect people who pay money to watch his crusty, 40-something, over-the-hill, stoned-out self noodling and fiddling his instrument like he's someone important. Let's face it, when you say "Down" the first person you think about is Phil Anselmo, not Pepper Keenan. He is the last person to have any ego! So fuck you, Pepper! And what of Phil, you may ask? I have to say that he is one of coolest, sincerest person you could meet. And despite his previous doings with heroin and mud-slinging from Vinnie Paul and Dimebag Darrell's widow Rita Haney about his character, Philip Anselmo was a true gentleman and in his words, certainly did "take care of us," his fans.
WEEDEATER - To light up the evening's first joint, this band seemed to relish burying their "music" in feedback and distorted noise rather than actually sing. There was some initial growling that couldn't be heard and after a while the band just gave up and simply played "noise." Not a whole lot else, except that douchebag Pepper seemed to like them a lot and paid ample attention to their set. My guess is that the band is a possible discovery of his. I think he needs to do better than this. Set Grade: C
MELVINS - The legendary and mysterious band from Seattle who may, or may not, have been responsible for the start of Grunge in the 80s. Certainly they didn't popularize the genre, but they were one of the first. So when I expect to hear something akin to early Nirvana or Soundgarden, but get Weedeater Part II instead. At one point, notoriously nappy-headed frontman peers out into the crowd and notices the otherwise bored, tired looks on the faces of the people in the front row, including mine, and assures us that "Down is here tonight, don't worry!" which actually proves to be one of the most hilarious exclamations ever made at a concert that I've been to. There are moments when the Melvins get a good riff going, but then stop immediately in favor of sludgy 10-minute riffs which put the front row back to sleep. Despite a rousing double-drum intro from Dale Crover and a second drummer (!!!!) that lasts for what feels like almost five minutes of continuous cymbal bashing and the rousing, impromptu sing-along for America, the Melvins fall short and disappoint. Set Grade: C+
DOWN - When all is said and done, what we want to see is Phil! The man behind the mic for metal saviors, the late Pantera, is back after two years to spread the good message that "real metal" has returned to New York City. The crowd is all over this one and bodies immediately start flying. Down pummel through several favorites such as opener "Eyes of the South" and other favorites from the first two albums, such as "Stone the Crow," "Bury Me in Smoke," "Ghosts Along the Mississippi," and "New Orleans Is a Dying Whore," while playing only one song from the latest album, "Nothing in Return (Walk Away)." But the best, and most surprising, moment was when the band kicked into their faithful rendition to Van Halen's "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love." Immediately, the crowd and myself went wild with delight and anyone who knew the words, which was EVERYONE, sang along to Phil who had a similar quality to VH's latest frontman David Lee Roth! For my first Down show, this was an unexpectedly pleasant one... and definitely one of the Top 5 best shows this year! Set Grade: A-
Overall Show Grade: B
Upon meeting the members of Down, I found guitarist Kirk Windstein and drummer Jimmy Bower to be in good spirits despite the fact that bassist Rex Brown couldn't make the rest of the tour due to his chronic pancreatitis and being replaced by fellow NOLA player Danny Theriot, who did an admirable but otherwise ho-hum performance. Guitarist Pepper Keenan was, in a word, a douchebag. I'm not too surprised or bothered by this. Whatever his contributions are to the band, his surly attitude and inability to connect with fans, or at least put forth an effort to connect, rubs me the wrong way and needs to learn to respect people who pay money to watch his crusty, 40-something, over-the-hill, stoned-out self noodling and fiddling his instrument like he's someone important. Let's face it, when you say "Down" the first person you think about is Phil Anselmo, not Pepper Keenan. He is the last person to have any ego! So fuck you, Pepper! And what of Phil, you may ask? I have to say that he is one of coolest, sincerest person you could meet. And despite his previous doings with heroin and mud-slinging from Vinnie Paul and Dimebag Darrell's widow Rita Haney about his character, Philip Anselmo was a true gentleman and in his words, certainly did "take care of us," his fans.
WEEDEATER - To light up the evening's first joint, this band seemed to relish burying their "music" in feedback and distorted noise rather than actually sing. There was some initial growling that couldn't be heard and after a while the band just gave up and simply played "noise." Not a whole lot else, except that douchebag Pepper seemed to like them a lot and paid ample attention to their set. My guess is that the band is a possible discovery of his. I think he needs to do better than this. Set Grade: C
MELVINS - The legendary and mysterious band from Seattle who may, or may not, have been responsible for the start of Grunge in the 80s. Certainly they didn't popularize the genre, but they were one of the first. So when I expect to hear something akin to early Nirvana or Soundgarden, but get Weedeater Part II instead. At one point, notoriously nappy-headed frontman peers out into the crowd and notices the otherwise bored, tired looks on the faces of the people in the front row, including mine, and assures us that "Down is here tonight, don't worry!" which actually proves to be one of the most hilarious exclamations ever made at a concert that I've been to. There are moments when the Melvins get a good riff going, but then stop immediately in favor of sludgy 10-minute riffs which put the front row back to sleep. Despite a rousing double-drum intro from Dale Crover and a second drummer (!!!!) that lasts for what feels like almost five minutes of continuous cymbal bashing and the rousing, impromptu sing-along for America, the Melvins fall short and disappoint. Set Grade: C+
DOWN - When all is said and done, what we want to see is Phil! The man behind the mic for metal saviors, the late Pantera, is back after two years to spread the good message that "real metal" has returned to New York City. The crowd is all over this one and bodies immediately start flying. Down pummel through several favorites such as opener "Eyes of the South" and other favorites from the first two albums, such as "Stone the Crow," "Bury Me in Smoke," "Ghosts Along the Mississippi," and "New Orleans Is a Dying Whore," while playing only one song from the latest album, "Nothing in Return (Walk Away)." But the best, and most surprising, moment was when the band kicked into their faithful rendition to Van Halen's "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love." Immediately, the crowd and myself went wild with delight and anyone who knew the words, which was EVERYONE, sang along to Phil who had a similar quality to VH's latest frontman David Lee Roth! For my first Down show, this was an unexpectedly pleasant one... and definitely one of the Top 5 best shows this year! Set Grade: A-
Overall Show Grade: B
Motörhead w/ Reverend Horton Heat & Nashville Pussy @ Roseland Ballroom - 9/9/09
Almost one year ago, at the same venue, I saw Motörhead for the first time and was blown away. I missed a chance to meet frontman/bassist Lemmy, who escaped through the back exit, and instead had to settle with meeting drummer Mikkey Dee, who was polite enough but seemed otherwise uninterested in chatting with fans. This time was way different! Mikkey Dee, who opted to appear on the Swedish version of our American show "I'm a Celebrity... Get Me Out of Here!" instead, was replaced by Velvet Revolver skinsman Matt Sorum and I got to mee the legendary Lemmy Kilmister of Motörhead, who, after forming the band for almost 35 years, was standing before me. A gentleman in every respect and surprisingly quite upbeat and funny. My vision of him was the proverbial old warhorse, jaded and wiry of the road and all the whores, groupies, users, abusers and hanger-ons who latch themselves onto bands with no purpose but to bleed them dry. So it was a pleasant surprise to me that despite having a pathetic entourage following behind him, he seemed to gravitate more towards me than the silicone-injected females near him. It's one of those great thrills that you feel when you come near a legend or a hero from your childhood and he is still just a normal guy at heart and plays for the simple joy of seeing his fans happy. As he took my hand into his and we walked down the sidewalk for five seconds - yes, this really did happen! - he assured me that the fun wouldn't stop any time soon and that the best was yet to come. Oh, and yes, the facial warts are indeed real!
NASHVILLE PUSSY - Not to be confused with "Alabama Thunderpussy," these southern rockers boast a pretty down and dirty, but some good, clean fun that begins with Cheech Marin's "Pussy, Pussy" monologue in the 1995 film, "From Dusk 'til Dawn." From the word "go," the show shoots off like a wild rodeo ride, never letting up for inch until the songs ends. The band boasts two females, one is a big chested guitarist and the other the bassist, who rock just as hard as the men. No feminist bullshit on their part, and the men don't seem to impose any sexist views, except for the name of the band, although I'm sure you could hear them if you listen to the lyrics, which, unfortunately, I couldn't. Set Grade: B
THE REVEREND HORTON HEAT - And now for something completely different and totally unexpected, a psychobilly act at a predominently metalhead show. They get the top prize for being the most unlikely band on the bill, yet still manage to get some cordial applause from the crowd of mosh-hungry people who want to see Motörhead. Still, there are certainly fans of RHH in the crowd, many of whom are old, tall men who grew up in Dallas, Texas as the frontman onstage and eventually migrated to New York. The band boasts a 50s throwback style complete with a giant bass viola and a Les Paul stratocaster (I could be wrong, though) with some old-style etchings. They play music that reminds me of something I heard in "Pulp Fiction" or some David Lynch movie that uses psychobilly-esque/50s rockabilly/surf punk music. At times, the interludes get slow, but not without some clever moments that tends to toy with the crowds reaction. Still, the good Rev (who looks like a post-rehab James Hetfield) and company do an admirable job in keeping the Southern Comfort vibe going. Set Grade: B
MOTÖRHEAD - And off we go, exactly where we left off nearly a year ago, with a packed crowd of people waiting to see the Road Crew bring down the Roseland in true road-dog style. This time, however, things got a little bit louder, as I had read on some concert-goer's T-shirt that evening which read: "Motörhead... Everything Louder Than Anything Out There!" or something to that effect. It wasn't enough that I could hear the songs being played, but the band were in danger of killing every eardrum that wasn't protected or covered. Lemmy, like a great crumbling statue, remained in his position belting out the usual classics like.... oh, you know the ones.... do I really have to name them? The crowd seemed satisfied to throw themselves literally on top of each other and into the waiting arms of security more for themselves than for Lemmy. I mean, seriously, can anyone name one Motörhead song that they can mosh to? Matt Sorum covers Mikkey Dee's fat ass well on the drums and even goes so far as to mimic Dee's "tossing-of-the-sticks-everywhere" routine. And Phil just wears a damn cool-looking fedora hat. The night did belong to them naturally, but without really being able to hear the songs and singing along, it really made me lose focus. Maybe next year, in September at the Roseland again, will be a different story. Set Grade: B+
Overall Show Grade: B
NASHVILLE PUSSY - Not to be confused with "Alabama Thunderpussy," these southern rockers boast a pretty down and dirty, but some good, clean fun that begins with Cheech Marin's "Pussy, Pussy" monologue in the 1995 film, "From Dusk 'til Dawn." From the word "go," the show shoots off like a wild rodeo ride, never letting up for inch until the songs ends. The band boasts two females, one is a big chested guitarist and the other the bassist, who rock just as hard as the men. No feminist bullshit on their part, and the men don't seem to impose any sexist views, except for the name of the band, although I'm sure you could hear them if you listen to the lyrics, which, unfortunately, I couldn't. Set Grade: B
THE REVEREND HORTON HEAT - And now for something completely different and totally unexpected, a psychobilly act at a predominently metalhead show. They get the top prize for being the most unlikely band on the bill, yet still manage to get some cordial applause from the crowd of mosh-hungry people who want to see Motörhead. Still, there are certainly fans of RHH in the crowd, many of whom are old, tall men who grew up in Dallas, Texas as the frontman onstage and eventually migrated to New York. The band boasts a 50s throwback style complete with a giant bass viola and a Les Paul stratocaster (I could be wrong, though) with some old-style etchings. They play music that reminds me of something I heard in "Pulp Fiction" or some David Lynch movie that uses psychobilly-esque/50s rockabilly/surf punk music. At times, the interludes get slow, but not without some clever moments that tends to toy with the crowds reaction. Still, the good Rev (who looks like a post-rehab James Hetfield) and company do an admirable job in keeping the Southern Comfort vibe going. Set Grade: B
MOTÖRHEAD - And off we go, exactly where we left off nearly a year ago, with a packed crowd of people waiting to see the Road Crew bring down the Roseland in true road-dog style. This time, however, things got a little bit louder, as I had read on some concert-goer's T-shirt that evening which read: "Motörhead... Everything Louder Than Anything Out There!" or something to that effect. It wasn't enough that I could hear the songs being played, but the band were in danger of killing every eardrum that wasn't protected or covered. Lemmy, like a great crumbling statue, remained in his position belting out the usual classics like.... oh, you know the ones.... do I really have to name them? The crowd seemed satisfied to throw themselves literally on top of each other and into the waiting arms of security more for themselves than for Lemmy. I mean, seriously, can anyone name one Motörhead song that they can mosh to? Matt Sorum covers Mikkey Dee's fat ass well on the drums and even goes so far as to mimic Dee's "tossing-of-the-sticks-everywhere" routine. And Phil just wears a damn cool-looking fedora hat. The night did belong to them naturally, but without really being able to hear the songs and singing along, it really made me lose focus. Maybe next year, in September at the Roseland again, will be a different story. Set Grade: B+
Overall Show Grade: B
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