Night of the Thrashing Dead 3!

Date: Friday, February 18, 2011
Venue: Zombies, San Antonio TX
Bill: Army of Drunks, Aggravator, Legion, The Ruined Few, Hexlust, Birth A.D.

Anybody who's ever been to any live music performance knows that things rarely start on time. The "why" is unknown to me as I've never worked at a venue and I'm too shy to ask, but it happens. Of course, if things begin late you have everything else being pushed back later, or you have bands playing shorter sets. When it was announced that Hexlust would be the second-to-last band to take the stage at Zombies on February 18, I reacted with elation and unease. Elation, because SECOND TO LAST BAND, BUDDY! Unease, however, because with as many bands as there were on this bill, we stood a very good chance of soundchecking at 12:30 with maybe half the audience left in attendance and rapidly depleting. Headliners at such gigs feel like opening bands, playing to five people who may or may not be giving their undivided attention. We've seen it happen, we've even experienced it.

Thankfully, the good people at Zombies really have their shit together, and had this show up and running right on time, if not a little ahead of schedule. We in Hexlust thought we were pretty hot shit arriving at the venue at 8:30, thinking we would get there just as the doors were opening so we could get a good parking spot, only to join that program already in progress! In fact, Army of Drunks were almost done with their set by the time we walked up to the front doors, so I have almost no impression of their music whatsoever. Thankfully, the San Antonio Heavy Metal Examiner was there in time, and as usual you can read about the things I missed in his report.

By the way, bringing the focus back to us, Jeff A.D. was kind in helping us secure a table right next to his where we could hawk our new T-shirts, allowing us to reach a new phase in our bandhood: merch sellers! Yes sir, feeling more and more like a real band with every gig! Gone are the days of shrugging and saying "Nope, no shirts... no CD either... not even a sticker. If you want, you can have this table napkin on which Dart sketched our logo while he was bored at work." Granted, we were peddling shirts at last week's show, but that was more just carrying a box around and telling whoever passed by that we had them. This time we had a permanent selling station, with a sample duct-taped to the wall with a "$10" sign up next to it! Bigger and better things, friends!

AGGRAVATOR
Aggravator have been getting better every time I've seen them. Whereas a year ago all I could really say about them was that they had great energy and a charismatic frontman, now I can honestly say that they are a tight, pulverizing outfit who have talent that matches their raw energy. In fact, after four or five times of seeing them live, I'm also starting to recognize songs, which just makes things even more enjoyable. The audience shared my sentiment, folks were headbanging and starting mosh pits, and this was just the second band of the evening! This coupled with the fact that the venue was already starting to fill up was the sign of a very special evening, these people were here to thrash and they were not going to wait until three or four bands in to start doing so!

One thing I especially enjoy about Aggravator is the chemistry between vocalist/guitarist Derek and guitarist Jesse, it really reminds me of early Megadeth. Derek is Dave Mustaine, not only in hair color and stage presence, but also in his raw, shredder style of soloing, while Jesse is undoubtedly the Chris Poland of the band, the more technical soloist. Unfortunately, there was only one song, maybe two in which the beauty of these contrasting styles was shown off, as Jesse soloed for the majority of the tunes. I think Derek should take some more leads as Aggravator write more songs, that's a dynamic you don't find often and even then doesn't often work. Usually the "raw" guitarist just plumb sucks and the "technician" is eye-goungingly boring.



LEGION (It's time for thrasharoo!)
Bastardwolf recently dissolved, leaving a vacant spot in this evening's roster. Aaron Goregrowler quickly found a replacement in the young Houston band, Legion. This isn't an oddity in the live music world, but for some reason, on this particular evening, this situation reminded me of Mr. Derp from South Park, prompting me to spend the rest of the night quoting him to my bandmates. Also, whenever someone said "Legion," I would mentally follow it up with Mr. Derp's two-note theme song and laugh to myself.

Anywho, this group played some hella thrashy stuff and even a cover of "Angel of Death." My only issue was the breakdowns present in quite a few of their songs, but I guess that's what happens when you mix old and new influences. Not that it sounded bad, it was just rather unexpected and certainly raised an eyebrow or two. Admittedly this band didn't have my undivided attention, as I was distracted by a conversation with Doug's cousin. He's in the Army and was stationed at Ft Hood, so we were sharing opinions on things we hate about the Killeen area.

THE RUINED FEW
As Legion were de-staging and The Ruined Few were getting their stuff set up, we in Hexlust started bringing our gear out and setting it up outside the back door (if there's one thing I've come to highly appreciate in Hexlust's short history of gigging, it's a venue with a separate door right by the stage). Listening to them as I was warming up on my kit, I found I didn't much care for The Ruined Few. I could hear a strong Obituary influence in their playing and song arrangements, but I felt it was overpowered by a Pantera feel that rendered them sounding too "Killeen" for my comfort, especially on a thrash-oriented bill. But hey, the people really seemed to dig em, so who am I, right?



HEXLUST
Loading in and soundchecking was a breeze. The stage itself was huge, with room for all my drums, the amps, and for the guys to move around during the songs. The sound guy was friendly and accomodating, and was relieved that I didn't throw a cymbal at him for not having enough mics for every one of my drums (apparently there are other skin-bashers out there who are total drama queens about this). The only thing I regret is that during our soundcheck we forgot to make monitor requests; we're used to not having them at all, so it completely slipped our minds. With the stage (and venue) being as large as it was, this would come back to haunt us.

It wasn't a problem during the intro song. That tune never gets fast or technical, so it was easy for us all to hear each other. "Fucked By Fire," though, turned out to be a slight problem. Going into the hella fast riff after my first big drum fill, I realized I couldn't actually hear the guitars at all, only a buzzing cacophony from which notes or chords were not discernible. I gritted my teeth, concentrated on my mental metronome, and prayed the guys could at least hear me so we could come together on all the right parts. We pulled it off, and the response was massive. People really seem to be digging FBF, which makes the two years it took to write that beast all the more worth it.

The rest of the set continued pretty much in that vein. Play fast, can't hear anybody, focus on time-keeping and cymbal crashing so everybody knows where they are, and no flashy fills so's to minimize the chances of stick-dropping. For anybody who thinks we may have been playing slower or more subdued than usual (I certainly felt a decrease in speed), this is why.

After making it through "Toxic High" and "Hellhammer," we premiered "They Conjure" to decent success. First-time jitters ensured that it was not going to be a particularly tight performance and I know we came close to derailing a few times, but we held it together and pulled it off without any major errors. After a particularly staggering (in a good way) "Baphomet Dawn," we got the notice that we had time for one more song, so we ripped right through "Tombs" and wasted little time with the stinger.



BIRTH A.D.
We're starting to get better at unpacking and re-packing our gear. We had almost everything stowed away when Birth A.D. started their set, so I had only missed a few songs by the time I made it back inside. Instead of packing up against the front of the stage where all the moshing and squishing was, I took up a position on the side, where I could not only see all the action without people running into me but also not have to rely as heavily on earplugs, since I was behind the PA speakers.

One glowing advantage to my position was a close-up view of everything Mark was doing on the drums, including the pedal work of both feet. That man is an absolute monster, with his blinding tom work, his on-a-dime flipping between thrash beats and blast beats, the fact that he plays, with one foot, patterns which require both of my feet to pull off at those speeds. He does this while singing on occasion, and makes it all look effortless. Oh and he plays with some pretty thick sticks too, but then he is a big guy. Have any of you readers ever seen the sticks Gene Hoglan, Fred Leblanc, or John Bonham played with? Tree trunks in their fingertips, being twirled as easily as twigs.

I also noticed Mark not having to take a swig of water between songs. In fact, I noticed every member of the band having full water bottles nearby which went pretty much completely unused! Here we are in Hexlust scrambling for nourishment during applause, sometimes holding up the start of songs in the process, and these guys are playing faster than us, virtually nonstop, with little or no water breaks. A true testament to how long and how hard they've been doing this thrash thing.

Oh and the TUNES. I just recently gave tracks off "Stillbirth of a Nation" a decent listen, and I thought they couldn't get any faster. This performance proved that the guys were actually holding out on the recordings, saving the real speed for the stage. I barely had time to put my fist down from shouting "Parasites DIE!!!" or "This scene SUCKS!!!" before it was time to put it back up again. A performance so slamtacular the audience wasn't about to let them off the stage without one last hurrah. Jeff said that if we wanted one more song it would have to be one they already played (I wanted to yell "YOU'RE NOT TRIPTYKON" but decided against it) and they satisfied us with a repeat offense of "Cause Problems."

WHITE PEOPLE AND THEIR LONG GOODBYES
The show was over and it was just a minute past one o'clock. Definitely one of the better shows I've ever attended or been a part of, not only for the bands but for the punctuality as well. Five bands, done in five hours. A rare occurrence indeed. We hoisted our box of shirts (down to only nine out of thirty-six in just two shows! Wooh!) collected our money, and said our goodbyes. Our long, multiple goodbyes. We said adieu to Legion twice, an encore convo getting started up again by Tarzan needing a reminder of their names.

And if Jeff A.D. thought he only had to do one encore this evening he was dead wrong. In a colloquial sense we treated him like Led Zeppelin, bringing him back for second, third, even fourth conversations long after the initial bid farewell. Sometimes he would think of something else to say; other times it was Tarzan or JT (once it was me, and boy did I kick myself), but at least it never stopped being fun. I just wish we could have been doing that at midnight instead of almost two a.m. I needed a shower, a bowl of Crispy Rice and slumber. All of which later took place at JT's epic bachelor pad.

In conclusion: Doug is "Drunk Jeff," Tarzan is "Little Sideburnless Jeff." I need to get a picture of those three together.

King Diamond Benefit Show

Date: Saturday, February 12, 2011
Venue: Mine Shaft Saloon, San Antonio TX
Bill: Plutonian Shore, Hexlust, Emperial Massacre, Exulcerate, The Oath

Back in November, everyone’s favorite falsetto King Diamond was hospitalized for what turned out to be some outrageously clogged arteries, prompting a triple-bypass open-heart surgery. Mr Diamond’s good friend Dave Martinez thought it would be a swell idea to raise some support money for King, so he teamed up with Hellbound Productions to set up a benefit show in San Antonio at Mine Shaft Saloon, located next to the Magic Time Machine restaurant.

“Magic Time Machine,” you enquire. “The hell’s that?” Well, imagine one of those goofy theme restaurants snuck out of Disney World and has been hiding out just off an expressway in San Antonio. Guests are served by waitstaff dressed and acting as kid-friendly TV/film characters and pop culture icons. While waiting on their food (horrifyingly overpriced, if reviews are to be believed), the hungry patrons can take in the sights of all sorts of novelty furniture and decorations, much of it pertaining to the “theme” of whatever area of the restaurant they’re in. Eye-popping fun for the whole family!

Unfortunately for any fun-having families still seated and eating around 10:30 pm, an infernal ruckus was being raised in the Mine Shaft Saloon, the “cocktail lounge” attached to the restaurant. And by “attached” I don’t mean there’s a big wall with a door; no sir, the restaurant just kind of segues into the bar without any hope of soundproofing whatsoever.

PLUTONIAN SHORE
When the first band of the evening, black metallers Plutonian Shore, took the stage, I was outside in the patio seating area, the only space in or out of the venue where I had room to set up my drum kit. Within minutes I saw families power-walking out of the restaurant, to-go boxes in hand and strained looks on the faces of the parents. I wondered how many children present that night would grow up to be metalheads based on that one time they got served a steak by Jack Sparrow and ended up being aurally assaulted by harsh music from people in scary facepaint.

The first things to jump out at me were the keyboard and the drums, the former giving the music an ethereal and even grandiose feel, the latter being fast, tight, and best of all powerful. It sounded like the guy was absolutely slamming his kit, a guess rendered truthful by a peek inside. I actually didn’t hear the guitar, bass, or even vocals much, and I was too busy warming up to spend any extended period inside, but according to those who watched the bassist was doing some spiffy fills and, being a southpaw, played a right-handed bass upside-down.

Due to Saturday evening closing hours for the Magic Time Machine, this five-band gig got started at 10:30 and was to be over by 2:00, so set lists were shortened and loading time took on a very rushed feel. We were the next band to play, second of the whole evening, and I had my entire drum kit with me tonight, including rotary toms. Thankfully I had the whole thing put together, so getting it onstage was simply a matter of taking the individual stands up there and then pulling the whole deal back together, like a huge puzzle. Stage space proved to be an issue, and the rest of the guys at first had a little trouble figuring out who would go where with their big amps. Tarzan was told he could plug directly into the PA, allowing him to stash his rig behind JT’s cab and have that problem done with. Judging by the number of songs that played through over the club stereo, setup and soundcheck time took about ten minutes. Not too shabby.

HEXLUST
We made it through the intro song feeling good. Normally this is where any inadequacies in warming up start to bear their bitter fruit, with cramping forearms for me or stiff fingers for Tarzan, but we went into FBF still feeling loose and limber. The audience response was very positive, a cause for smiles since we were nervous about starting the set off with a new tune, and we pulled it off with few or no mistakes. I even pulled off my Bonham-triplet drum vamp that leads into Tony’s guitar solo, and even in practices that’s very hit-or-miss.

“Toxic High” had problems before the count-off. Tarzan got confused and thought we were going to go into “Hellhammer,” so he switched his tone over to distortion; Tony announced Toxic and Tarzan had to take a few seconds (fucking eons in stage time) to scramble back across the stage to hit the switch again. Small potatoes, though, we launched into the song itself at top speed and were gearing up for a humdinger of a chorus. A sudden spout of crowd-pushing, however, send the mic into Tony’s face, knocking him into one of my cymbal stands and breaking a string on his guitar. I was cool, my stand had toppled but was supported by the floor tom, so the cymbals were still smashable. I was even able to continue playing without missing a beat.

Tony, however, was dazed and obviously unhappy with the sudden turn of events. I, Tarzan, and even a couple audience members admitted to being certain that he would throw his guitar down and walk offstage; not that we think him a wussbag, we just know that’s what we would have probably done. In a move that won him hellamuch cool points, Tony took a breath, got his wits about him, and set about replacing his guitar with a backup while we kept the song going. He picked back up just in time for his solo and we finished the tune strong.

“Hellhammer” held a few more problems. For me, it was simply dropping my stick before we were even a minute in. A minor setback, yes, but no matter how many times I do it I never feel any less clumsy doing empty kick-snare beats while reaching for another stick. I recovered and we soldiered on. In terms of how it affected the song, the next calamity was so slight I didn’t even notice it; JT bashed his forehead on Tony’s headstock while headbanging, resulting in a gnarly knot that was still there the next morning. He kept playing, God bless him, but I know he was fuming.

After we put a cork in that, Hexlust were not a happy group of campers. Each of us had experienced our own setbacks, big and small, and felt the sting of each other’s difficulties. Weirdest and most frustrating of all, the mic stand kept buckling or losing its grip on the mic, requiring constant audience vigilance to keep it straight and tall. When Hellbound Jeff told us that our next tune would have to be our last, we were more than happy to put this set to rest. The last song was, of course, “Tombs of the Blind Dead,” and we rocketed through that monster with such intensity that all the negativity melted and I felt like we were shining by the end stinger. I went through my finale drum solo, and we finished to huge applause.

In spite of the difficulties, this was actually one of our best performances in a good while. We all did an excellent job of warming up, maintained a high energy level, and screwed up rarely. Another significant factor was the audience, who cheered grandly after every song and kept our spirits high. Honestly, that helped more than all the warming up and headbanging could ever hope to; if we had started getting “polite claps” or even crickets after Tony’s tumble, I’m sure we would have quit before we even got offstage. I would have definitely cried. My mom would have taken a picture.

EMPERIAL MASSACRE and EXULCERATE
Unfortunately I spent both sets outside, breaking down my kit, getting it put away, and talking to folks about the performance. We also had shirts to sell, another distraction, and my parents, Tarzan and I helped a dude find his driver’s license. I promise, if we play with these guys again, I'll pay better attention, especially since I heard Exulerate were particularly awesome.

THE OATH
Something was wrong. It was 1:30, half hour til closing time, the whole crowd gathered inside in front of the stage, looking at half a band. The musicians looked impatient and the audience were no different; hell this is what we came to see, a King Diamond benefit show headlined by a King Diamond tribute band. What we had in front of us, however, were two guitarists, a drummer, no bassist, and worst of all, no King.

Hellbound Jeff found Tarzan and asked if his bass could be borrowed, which apparently was the root of The Oath’s problem. Two minutes later, The Oath’s singer, decked out in splendid Diamond fashion with awesome facepaint, strode through the door, bass in hand. I ran outside and made it to Tarzan just as he was walking back with his case; he kicked it over when I told him the news, though I think if he had made it back to the venue he would have bludgeoned someone to death with it. We all made it back inside and comfortably stageside just in time to watch… the band still soundchecking. It was 1:50.

Finally the singer said “Fuck it, let’s do this!” and they launched into “The Oath.” The long wait was well-rewarded, friends. The riffing was spot-on, the drum beats were very faithful, with little to no embellishments, and of course the King vocals were diamond quality (I know, HAR-DEE-HAR-FUCKING-HAR, I’m the kind of guy who can’t resist a juicy pun). Even the little whammy leads between lines of lyrics were just as I remembered them from Don’t Break the Oath. And of course, my favorite part and everyone else’s, the whole audience singing along with the “AH-ah, AH-ah, AH-AH-AH-AH-AH!” part, which felt almost as glorious as singing along to “Circle of the Tyrants” at Triptykon.

They followed that gem up with another Don’t Break… favorite, “Come to the Sabbath,” which kept us singing along and fist-pumping (NOT like champs) all the way through. Next up was “Halloween,” which I remember from Fatal Portrait but isn’t one of my favorites. Considering this set could be stopped cold at any moment, any song performed that I didn't absolutely love was a cause for worry. I was hoping against all hope that the venue manager was actually a King fan and would allow this to continue for at least another half hour so’s I could hear “Mansion in Darkness” or even “Desecration of Souls.”

Of course, after that song ended, it was announced that their next tune would be the last. I crossed my fingers and prayed for the widely-recognized “Welcome Home,” which, overplayed as it may be, would have been a fantastic way to end the evening. Instead, they went into some track off Abigail I don’t even remember. Not one for allowing myself to be disappointed, I spent the song hanging out by the very side of the stage, watching the drummer. They closed it out to wild applause, and promised that if we saw them again we would get to experience the full two-hour set. I for one am looking forward to that.

OUTRO
Overall, this was a fun gig. We all played fewer songs than expected, but this allowed us all to plow through our entire set lists at full power and come out of it still full o’ piss and vinegar. On the “benefit” side of the show, sources say that a whopping $900 was raised for King Diamond! Yep, we can definitely label this show a success, though a rickety, unstable one.

As for Hexlust, after all the goodbyes were said we retreated to JT’s apartment, where we munched on pizza rolls, took turns with his shower, and watched The Office until four a.m. We’ll be back in town later this week for the “Night of the Thrashing Dead” show at Zombie’s, here’s hoping we have the same performance proficiency, the same audience response, and fewer technical difficulties.