Forget Judas Priest. Seriously… some people must’ve forgot Judas Priest was playing, because people actually came to our show last night. I’ve bagged on the Bay Area lots of times for the over-21-crowd’s apparently lackluster interest in death metal, especially when I’ve set up show for bands I really dig. Scott Alcoholocaust had to go and prove me wrong. He apparently can book and properly promote a show, whereas I cannot. The two best Bay Area headlining shows for us ever have been with Scott Alcoholocaust, so I’ve got to give the man some major props. The show was at the El Rio, a nice bar that has a patio, ensuring people can smoke and still get loaded. Yay.
Some of the drunk metal regulars weren’t around, which is always a bummer, but I know they were rocking out at the Amphitheater to such great hits as “Turbo Lover.” That makes it all better. Then there was the other death / rock show at Studio Z with 100 Suns. Then there was the crust BBQ show at the Hazmart Warehouse. Then there was another crust BBQ at Nate and Kelly’s in Oakland. Then there was the 625 “Thrash” fest at Gilman with Iron Lung. Jeepers creepers, if you were bored in the Bay Area last night, you weren’t paying attention.
So, Scott not only got a crap load of heads out to our show in the El Rio, but he put together a kiler line-up. The Mass kicked off the evening, and they are one of my favorite locals. The best way I could describe them is avante-thrash… a lot of times I don’t take to bands with goofy time signatures, “gimmick” instruments, or jazz parts, but these guys just know how to put it all together and still rock. They just recently had a feature done on them in Metal Maniacs, if anyone wants to check it out. They started off with some new uber-heavy chunky metal, with their unique front-man / saxophonist wailing out death screams that must’ve made Paul Bailoff turn over in his grave. Their bassist has this insane stage presence, screaming into the air LOUDER than the music is playing and looking like he’s having an aneurysm. Then comes out the sax, which should suck, but goddamn if it doesn’t just rock. It doesn’t just play on quiet parts, but also hits some extremely classic metal harmonies with the guitar. Ack! It’s just too hard to descibe. Check ’em out on the web or something.
Then Fall of the Bastards played. This is a killer black metal band from Portland / Seattle, and this was the last show of their tour, so again, I wasn’t so glad that people showed up for Impaled, I was glad people came out to support a touring band. I hate trying to be the anchor for a touring band and having an utterly disappointing crowd. Fall of the Bastards got what they deserved as the blew the doors off with some blistering black metal and got the crowd chanting and got them to do an encore. A nice end for their tour.
So Impaled got onstage for our usual brand of nonsense, and lo and behold, people were singing along, bangin’ away, and generally having a good god damn time, which is great to see. Hey man, we’re entertainers, we want to entertain. Then, surprise of surprises, a mosh pit broke out, and kept breaking out. Normally, this is like two drunk dudes from the Central Valley who piss off everyone at a 21 and over show, but last night, I saw lots of people slam dancing and just having a good time together. Metal heads, some punks, and some guy who had earlobes stretched out so far I thought they were saucers from his mom’s plate collection.
Tangent: when are all these body mod freaks going to get serious and start putting in lip plates? What about those gold rings to stretch chicks necks out? I mean, I have a couple tats, a couple piercings… but I wanna see the people REALLY into it getting REALLY into it. Bring on the freaks!
So by the end of the night, Fall of the Bastards was looking for a place to stay, and I said they could crash at my house. I like to have an open house for bands on the road, because that’s what we’re ALWAYS looking for when Impaled is on the road. Well, apparently word got out that they were heading to my place, so what was supposed to be a crash pad turned into a party pad (not the first time this has happened). Lucky my roommates were outta town! I had to jam home because there were people sitting on my front porch. People brought beer, my only stipulation for their entrance, so all was good! Christy from Ludicra came and started the eighties dance party in my living room, while Donny from FotB was entranced with a radio-controlled robot my brother owns. Aaron, who does our shirts at Hangar 19, came over and got obliterated and was slaying everyone in sight with his razor-sharp wit. I made tots for everyone (Napoleon, gimme some of yer tots!). I ended up crashing out before anyone, and when I woke up, everyone who’d gotten too drunk or just spent the night was gone. Perfect!
Time for more coffee and cigarettes.
