Book of the Worm

Date: Saturday, September 20, 2014
Location: The Limelight, San Antonio TX
Bands: Hexlust, Sardonic Witchery, Witchaven, Hod

Fuckin' Hod, man. Fuckin' Hod.

Some of the neck-snappingest tunes (and coolest tshirt designs) in all of Texas metal are released under their name, and some of the coolest people you'd ever hope to meet can be found in their ranks. Trans Am, their bass player, once regaled me with awesome stories of seeing Death live in Florida when they had just started introducing the Leprosy material; ol' TA was actually absent from this show, filling in for Goatwhore's bassist on tour, and his replacement in Hod this evening was none other than our good friend Zvs, of Plutonian Shore; the guys have said that Carl Necron and Danny Blackwolf, the guitarists, are always up for good conversation, although I think I've spoken five sentences to those guys; and Beer, vocalist, always makes sure to give us all a handshake and hearty hug while pointing out that he's happy to see us and that Hexlust are Hod's little brothers.

Considering all the esteem we have for them, we wasted zero time saying yes when we were offered the opening slot on this show, celebrating the release of their second album, Book of the Worm. Word had it that they would be playing the entire album this evening, so I spent the whole week in advance listening to it (HELL YEAH FOR PRE-ORDERS) to familiarize myself.

I was also going to sport the t-shirt I got in the album pre-order bundle, if I had received the right size. Due to a mixup, though, I wound up with a 4XL, and while I'm sure everyone (especially the ladies) would have considered my Hod muumuu to be quite hip, fetching even, I chose to send it back and wait to receive my proper size.

HEXLUST
"Was that there last time?"

First words out of my mouth upon approaching the stage, referring to the drum riser positioned upstage-center. I was positive it was not there when we last played here in April, considering I recall having an easy time getting my kit squared away. This, I could already tell, was too small for the set I normally rock. No problem at all; I would simply do without my rotary toms and the two small toms over my hi-hat. Easy peasy. I've already practiced enough with a condensed kit that I'm able to adjust my muscle memory on the fly in situations like this.

That, however, was only taking into account the width of the riser. What caught me off guard was the depth, just a few inches too small for me. See, I'm a tall, spindly dude with long arms and legs, so I sit further back from my kit than most other drummers I've seen. I felt too close to my drums even with my kick almost at the front edge and my throne right at the back of the riser, which ended with a few inches of space between it and the stage wall to presumably allow cords and wires to be looped around back. Still, my soundcheck wasn't that bad, and I was able to hit everything without knuckling the cymbals, so I was sure I'd be able to endure forty minutes of mild discomfort.

My body had other plans, though.

As soon as we came out of the intro to FBF, with Tony making his grand declaration and me doing my Bonham triplet fill and all four of us taking off at high speed, I started sliding back across my throne. The simple act of working my feet on the kick pedals was pushing the rest of me away, and my ass was too light to anchor myself, so back I went, damn near off my throne. Thankfully, there are a lot of "breather" moments in that song where I was able to pull myself forward, but I knew that not all of our songs would be as forgiving, especially since the guys wanted to play "Agent Orange" tonight.

I was in such a state of screaming red panic that when Tony came over and asked which song was next, my brain froze. I stared at him as if he had just inquired about my favorite flavor of oatmeal, stuttered a few times, and then gurbled out something like "Toxiconjure."

That was a mistake. Tony said okey doke and announced Toxic High, a song which, from the instant we all come in to right before JT's solo three minutes later, has zero pauses. No breathers at all. There were times it got to where I was literally leaning back against the wall with my arms and legs fully extended, before finding a "punchy" spot to tense up and launch myself forward like a coiled spring. Our tightness suffered, and those first two songs were the sloppiest we've played in a long while.

After that debacle, I called for a long pasue so I could see if I could adjust things any further. Tony said stuff to the audience while I pulled my kick forward just a smidgen, maybe half an inch, really skirting the edge of the riser, and did the same with my throne in the opposite direction, again right at the very edge of stable surface grip. The full inch extra didn't do much for my comfort level, but I was now just far enough away that I wasn't in danger of pushing myself off the throne and could play through a whole song.

Of course, everything else about our set was great. For being the opening act we had a fantastic crowd response, lots of moshing and headbanging and folks singing and screaming along. We played with ferocious energy and were mostly perfect; JT hit the wrong notes or started a progression on the wrong chord in a few places but that was it in terms of actual flubs. Agent Orange hit the spot for our audience. The response was so rabid and violent I thought folks were gonna start tearing each other apart, but thankfully the hard moshing in good spirits all the way through.

I think what I'll do if we play the Limelight again is set my kit up in front of the drum riser. It's a pretty big stage overall, so I think there should still be enough space that some fool won't easily be able to grab my front tom stand and pull it over into the audience. And hell, we can just split the guys up on either side of me like Sepultura in those 1986 live videos.

SET LIST:
Fucked By Fire
Toxic High
They Conjure
Baphomet Dawn
Meganecropolis
Tombs of the Blind Dead
Agent Orange

My family were once again in attendance tonight, so it was a more social evening for me. I spent Sardonic Witchery's and Witchaven's sets catching up with my brother over some de-damn-licious mini tacos at that awesome roach coach next door, and finally joining everyone else (my parents, their friends Gary & Chris, and Damiyan's girlfriend Valerie) back at the Limelight patio area for some good conversation. They left before Hod's set, bound for some generously-portioned chicken fried steak at a place called Lulu's, which apparently I gots to try. There was talk of ginormous cinnamon rolls.

HOD
Holy bejesus dude. I've seen Hod plenty of times, and they never fail to get an audience going, but this has to be the most vitriolic response they've ever received. They certainly had a bigger crowd at the Absu show a few weeks back, but it was nowhere near as rabid as this one. Every person was there for Hod, and were primed and rarin' to hear the songs from Book of the Worm played in sequence. I thought the pitting during our set was intense, but here it was right on the verge of out-and-out violent. I thought for sure that fights were going to break out on multiple occasions, particularly when one guy looped him arm around another dude's head and dragged him crashing and ping-ponging into the rest of the audience, but again, it was all in good fun and in the name of "fuckin' metal," as Hod put it.

Now, anyone who knows me knows I love me some guitar leads, the whammy-abusing-er the better, so it should come as no surprise that my only nitpick with the performance (and the album) is that there were not enough solos. "When The Ghouls Feed," for instance, is such a little tease of a song, where Necron pulls off a sweet divebomb at one point and then stops.

And the riff just keeps going.

And the riff just keeps going.

AND THE RIFF JUST KEEPS GOING YOU GUYS.

NO MORE SOLOS OR VOCALS OR ANYTHING.

WHY DO YOU HATE ME CARL.

All fuddyduddying aside, though, this was far and away the best Hod performance I've ever seen. They played through the whole Book of the Worm album, of course, and capped things off with "The Smoke Will Rise," my favorite Hod song, one I'm surprised didn't end up on the album. All that was done and the band walked off stage and into the "dressing room" off to the side, leaving their equipment set up, sure a sign of an encore as anything.

They came back out, to the surprise of nobody, and regaled a smaller, but no less appreciative audience with "Demoralizer," which I haven't seen them perform in forever. Those of us left had no energy for moshing, which made it safe for some nonstop headbanging as close to the stage as we wished to get.

CLOSING THOUGHTS
As of this writing, we are about to receive the final-final mix of the album, along with the final-final version of the album art. Possible release date may be around Halloween, or hell even Christmas. To save yourself a broken heart, expect it on Valentine's Day. Trust me, if it's not out by then, we will have killed ourselves.

CVMA Vets For Vets

Date: Saturday, September 6, 2014
Venue: Pit Stop Bar & Grill, Nolanville TX
Lineup: Back Creek Band, Hexlust, Lady Zion & The Babylon Boys

Being from a military town like Killeen, you'd think we'd have played veteran benefit shows like this more often. Or, you know, at all. Somehow, in our seven-plus years of playing live, we never got picked up for one.

Well, first time for everything and all that. Our initial foray into the world of military benefit concerts was hosted by the local chapter of the Combat Veterans Motorcycle Association, and held at the Pit Stop Bar & Grill in Nolanville, a few miles outside of Killeen. Proceeds went to veterans organizations in the Central Texas area including, but not limited to, the State Veterans Home in Temple and the Fort Hood USO.

As you may have seen from the list of bands I posted at the top, today's bill was... varied. Very "intersting." The Back Creek Band opened the festivities with a set of mostly if not all covers, culled from the classic/Southern rock spectrum, including that bar-band chestnut "Pride & Joy," mixed with more mainstream songs executed with a laid-back, twangy sort of approach, like Nirvana's "All Apologies." What really made them stick out for me is their use of three guitarists (four if you count the acoustic the singer pulled out of thin air halfway through), which was more fun to watch than you'd expect, especially since one of them took more of a "slide guitar" approach to his playing. My only disappointment is that they had three-plus guitarists and didn't pull out any early Radiohead. Even "High & Dry" would have hit the spot for me.

Closing out the fun was Lady Zion & The Babylon Boys, with some more bar rock, only this time with a keyboard player! The lineup also included one guitarist, an older gent (and the keyboardist's father) who could really shred; a drummer; Lady Zion herself on vocals; and a bassist who was kinda smooshed into the back corner of the stage, WHERE BASS PLAYERS BELONG. TARZAN. I'd say this band had more of a seventy-thirty ratio of covers to originals; I actually liked the originals and wished they played more, and dug the covers enough, they did the job, although I did want to tear my hair out when they launched into "Don't Stop goddamn Believing." Seriously, if you line up your television-watching, radio-listening, sport event-attending, and bar-hopping schedules just right, you could literally hear that song every single day for the rest of your life. I would have been their biggest fan if they'd played "Who's Crying Now."

I did get a kick out of them though, they had some real charisma. I've heard they can really get a crowd going, which, yes, every band puts in their insipid fucking presskit bios, but I could see it being true. I may try to catch them again at a show where theyre playing to an energetic boogie-ready audience, instead of providing background music to more of a social/networking event.

Sandwiched between those two bands, perfectly suited for a family-friendly charity event, you have... us. Yeah. Oh trust me, the disparity did not go unnoticed.

This was also a different show for us in that it was our first daytime gig ever. By that I don't mean we went on before sunset, I mean this shindig started at noon and we were scheduled for 2:30! Being so early in the day, I was a little worried about audience size. Granted, if nobody showed up for us, it was no skin off my ass, I know we rarely play around here and don't have much of an audience that doesn't consist of personal friends. However, my parents are members of the CVMA, and this was a thing they helped put together, to benefit a cause they care about, and I wanted more than anything for today to go well for them.

I had absolutely nothing to worry about. By the time we got there at about 11:45, the front parking lot was full and the place was well crowded. The audience of course consisted largely of bikers, not just CVMA but other associations here to show support, along with local veterans, families, and random folks we connived into showing up and paying to watch us make a spectacle of ourselves (and eat some awesome barbecue). A very different audience from what we're used to, but an audience nonetheless, and a sizeable one at that! Back Creek Band did a good job of keeping everyone entertained, and even had folks singing along in more than a few places; these people were primed and ready for musical amusement!

And what did we do with our sizeable, attentive audience? Why, we drove them the hell away, that's what!

HEXLUST
We still had 'em when we were soundchecking. Even with the obnoxiously copious drum kit, and the double-V axe attack, and Tarzan's super-awesome yet super devil-worshippy Hod shirt, everyone still seemed willing to stick this out with us. I think JT even increased our good will by warming up with "Simple Man." Then Tarzan dashed that all to hell when he checked his vocal mic, "Check, one two, check, CHEEEEEEEEEEECK," throwing on his growly kvlt vocals on that last check. According to Tony, folks immediately started nope-ing out the door. They didn't go home, but they sure didn't stay in there. By the time we started "They Conjure" three songs in, we had alienated about 3/4 of what was a pretty packed room.

Not that we didn't have our share of appreciative spectators. In addition to some fine folks who decided they were hip to our jive (or were perfectly capable of ignoring us despite our best efforts to be obnoxious), we also had a mix of personal friends, family friends, co-workers, my parents, JT's parents, and this gaggle of adorable little girls who were there the whole set and were also seen wailing away on my drums before we went on stage. I don't know their names because I didn't introduce myself because I suck at talking to children, but it was endearing to know that we left an impression on them.

We played great today, too! It's always fun playing for an atypical audience, it gives us an extra boost of obnoxiousness on top of our normal high energy levels to really unleash the hexcellence on some unsuspecting souls. I was worried about having an hour-long set, especially since we're used to playing a half hour, maybe forty-five minutes at the max, and after that, stick a fork in us because we are done. Thankfully, there was a drawing for raffle prizes after "Baphomet Dawn," giving us a much-appreciated breather to tune, change guitars, hydrate, stretch, etc. It allowed us to attack the second half of our set, which happens to contain our fastest songs, with a refreshened vigor. Well, maybe a little too much vigor; My right shoulder was screaming at me after "Tombs," and my lower back ached.

And of course, what would a show with Jake in attendance be without busting out Troops of Doom with him on guest vocals? We had actually rehearsed our cover of "Agent Orange" in preparation for this long-ass set, but when it came time to play it just seemed like an impossible task. I had forgotten that we used to play that tune to compensate for a lack of original songs. Now that we have a full album that we can play live, any covers that aren't idiot-simple or less than three and a half minutes are really pushing it for us.

SET LIST
Fucked By Fire
Toxic High
They Conjure
Baphomet Dawn
Imminent Retardation
Hellhammer
Meganecropolis
Troops of Doom
Tombs of the Blind Dead

CLOSING THOUGHTS
Did I feel bad for driving damn near the whole crowd away? A little. These people were here to eat some barbecue, socialize and network, and support a worthy cause, and here come Hexlust, emptying the room with our screeching whammy abuse solos, our thrash-til-death tempos, and our songs about shooting up with toxic waste and cities full of dead people and sodomy with a blowtorch (or is it a flamethrower? It's been a long time since Tony and I actually discussed FBF, I've long since forgotten what the implement was).

I can't deny that I enjoyed it, though.  I don't have anything against holding an audience, of course, but I do feel quite giddy knowing that we are the type of band that has to be acknowledged, positively or negatively. We can't be ignored. Granted, people were ignoring us, but they had to go out of their way to ignore us, they had to go to the other side of the venue (separated by a wall) or walk outside. Hexlust shall not just blend into the background and provide a soundtrack to your outing. You have to stand up and pay attention, or stand up and leave!

Also, more silver lining, my dad says that a lot of the vendors who were stationed outside reported a sudden, significant influx of business when we started playing. And who says you can't make money off death/thrash metal?

Yar.

THANKS
Hokay.

Thanks to Gary "No Name" and Christina "Devil Woman" for tossing our name in the hat when it came to choosing bands for this event. You guys have been really going out of your way support us over the past year or so, and that has not gone unnoticed or unappreciated.

Thanks to my parents, known by their "patch names" as MFD and Skunk, for their continuous love and support, and telling the other members that hey, you should really give Hexlust a listen and check them out before we decide to have them on this bill, they are a very different sort of band.

Don't let it be said that you didn't try to warn them.

Thanks to the Back Creek Band for letting us use their awesome PA, and to the people running the sound who were met with baffled expressions when they asked us simple questions like how many mikes I wanted on my drums. One of these days we'll be a real band who immediately know the answers to such things, but for now, patience.

Thanks to Jake, for driving all the way here and helping us out with the gear and the vocals, and to Ralph, Walter, Dylan, Chelsea, Tami, Casey Carson (who's been a family friend since before I was even born), and other friends who showed up and I forgot to mention and they'll be like "Screw you Dart where's my shoutout"

Big Special Thanks to Combat Vets Motorcycle Association Chapter 23-5 for putting on this event, and everybody who showed up in support of a cause we all care about.

Finally, thanks goes to all our veterans, past and present. Without your service I'm fairly certain I'd have to seriously watch my back when I walk around town with my long hair and my Strapping Young Lad "HELL YEAH YOU FUCKING SUCK" shirt. Thank you for fighting for my right to rock, so to speak.

Metal forever, cause problems, die by the sword, and don't forget to never blow out that Eastern Candle.

Into Everlasting Fire.

Thrash til Alzheimer's.

Shfuxlust 4: The Dream Master

Date: Saturday, June 21, 2014
Venue: Armstrong Center, Belton TX
Bands: Buoyancy, Moniker, Shfux, Marla Strange, Hexlust

It's been an oddly mild summer in Central Texas. It's the season for high temperatures and low precipitation 'round these parts, but this year, there has been hardly a day in the hundred's, and we've had some actual rainfall here and there. Though the skies were mostly overcast, with scattered showers around the Killeen/Belton area this past Saturday, nary a drop was reported to have fallen in nearby Holland, where residents and tourists alike took part in the third day of the city's 40th annual Corn Festival.

Yessir, from morn til night, festivalgoers ate some catered barbecue, watched some live music, and took part in contests testing their mettle in feats such as corn cob bobbing, seed-spitting, and chicken-hurtling (?) along with such standbys as a three-legged race and a 5k run. From what I hear, it was quite a hootenanny, and fun was had by all.

Not too far away from that setting of some Southern-fried Garrison Keillor monologue, a different set of fun-lovers were gathering for their own sort of festivity. The time had come for another Armstrong show, named after the community center and former schoolhouse on the outskirts of Belton that acts as the sole local venue for the bands and fans of the Bell County punk scene.

Although Tony and I have attended one of these shindigs every now and again, we in Hexlust haven't actually performed since that surreal evening in 2009 that ended with the presence of police, an ambulance, and even a damn helicopter. Over the years, we've had plenty of requests to come back and play again, and yeah we've wanted to; the BC punkers were our first real fans, after all. We could never get the scheduling right though. Finally, as I've explained before, our lives have leveled out somewhat, to where we were able to get things lined up just right, and come back to this place of dirt and bugs and not much else to play a whole album's worth of material for our hexcellence-starved friends.

BUOYANCY
First up was Buoyancy, a part musical, mostly spoken word act fronted by Gary Spragg, who I've encountered at these shows before but didn't know was a performer, as well as band manager and show organizer. The dude practically crackles with restless energy even if he's just sitting in a booth at Whataburger, a quality which combines with his distinctive voice to make for one helluva public speaker. I was loading my drums in at this time so I couldn't tell you what he was speaking about, and I'm not super familiar with the art of the spoken word performance, but I can tell you Gary was passionate without being obnoxious, greatly preferable to that Levi guy who screams about Jesus, and was very dynamic, only raising his voice at the "emotional highlight" of his monologues. I don't recall hearing anything from the musical side of the act, but again, my body and mind were elsewhere.

It was oddly fitting that his impassioned monologues served as the evening's opening act, since Gary also took on the role of a sort of de facto master of ceremonies. Between bands the audience would almost completely empty out, retiring to the outdoors where there was an awesome breeze that was much appreciated in the day's mugginess. At the end of these "intermissions," Gary would be the one to announce the band, even going so far as to march outside and yell, "MONIKER ARE NOW PLAYING, IF YOU WANT TO SEE THEM, GET THE FUCK INSIDE!"

MONIKER
Speaking of, how the hell have Moniker been around as long as they have (their first album was released in 2010) and I'm just now hearing about them? I know my finger isn't exactly on the pulse of this scene, but I've been working with Walter on a semi-regular basis since 2011 for recording our album and have heard about everyone from Marla Strange to Burnt Fuse, so I wonder how I missed out on them. These guys were definitely the surprise act of the evening, grabbing everyone's attention and sounding pretty damn fat for a three-piece.

They describe themselves on their Facebook profile as a "rock band that has mixed elements of punk, classic butt rock, and metal," but I would pin their sound as being grunge before grunge had a name, sing-songy and melodic but heavy and screaming and more than a little noisy, the way Nirvana sounded in their early days. Or, do any of you remember Tad? I got a huge Tad vibe off these guys and was transported through my memories to my CTC days, spinning the "Inhaler" album at 2am as I got started on a paper that was due in about eight hours.

As is my luck, the moment I discover Moniker is right around the time they decide to call it a day. According to their Facebook, they'll be laying the band to rest after this summer's set of shows, and I dunno if I'll be able to make it out to another gig. Thankfully, they have a wealth of material up on their BandCamp page, so I'll definitely be digging in.

SHFUX

"We're not dead yet! We're not dead yet! We're not dead yet! WE'RE NOT DEAD YET!!!"

Damn I love that song! Shfux ain't going nowheres no time soon, and fuck you if you think otherwise! They've been around since at least 2002, so not only are they the one band still around from back when we first started playing these Armstrong shows, but they actually have us beat by a few years. Their lineup is almost the same as it was back in '08, except Dylan moved to drums to replace the departing Cole, Walter shifted to bass, and they brought in Matt on guitar. Still a strong trio, still angry, still plugging away.

They played some of my favorites from their new album, Not Dead Yet, including (of course) the title track and the epic, shifting "Doomsday Forever," along with an old Hexlust favorite "I Come From The Desert" (WHIFFLE BALL, WHIFFLE BALL!) while I started warming up on my drums and greeting some old friends. By this point I realised I was actually getting nervous, I was experiencing some no-shit stage fright, so if I wasn't catching up with folks I haven't seen since I left my job at the mall last year, I was pacing back and forth or smacking away on my practice pad.

MARLA STRANGE
Now this band I've heard quite a bit of, as Walter would play songs from their album The Count | The Priest | The Gunfighter in the studio from time to time. I dig the tunes, and I especially like their live presence. Here are two dudes, guitarist/vocalist Logan and drummer/vocalist Jason,  playing the music they enjoy and having the time of their lives, as evidenced by their perpetual grins.

What I found most endearing is that whenever Logan would play a lead or just come to some instrumental section, he would actually turn his back to the audience and look at Jason, and they'd be locked in with each other. Warms the cockles, it does.

Just a quick aside from a drummer about a drummer, Jason is a damn powerhouse. It probably helps that he's a big dude, but he really packs a whallop, and his snare can be heard for miles. Tony mentioned a show he played way-back-when, a point where Jason had just started drumming and knew only the most rudimentary of beats. A year later, his technique had improved by leaps and bounds, apparently by listening to a lot of Rush.

Lesson for you kids: Listen to Neil Peart. He won't steer you wrong.

HEXLUST
So, true to the pattern I mentioned earlier, the audience emptied out after Marla Strange were done, leaving us to set up in an empty hall. I can't tell you how many times I've wished for an empty venue before we played so I could get my drums onstage without bumping into folks, so this was a dream come true. Even better, Walter put on Altars of Madness and blasted it over the P.A.

Holy hell, you guys.

I can't even begin to tell you what a rush it was for us, getting set up for this well-anticipated gig while an album that is near and dear to all of our hearts, an album each of us has admitted to listening to every day for at least a month at some point in our lives, an album currently celebrating its twenty-fifth year of existence and still holding strong, still a benchmark of blasphemy, booming and echoing through this empty hall, somehow sounding even grander and more evil with the reverb provided by the completely-tiled floor. It was an enormous adrenaline rush getting set up while making faces at my bandmates and growling along:

Suffocating evil smoke arise, cleansing the masses of iniquity! Cauldrons blaze in sanctifying ritual, VILE CREMATORY BURNS MY EYES!!!

Even if this turned out to be the worst show of our career, this would stand out as probably the best pre-show ever.

Of course, the set itself was fantastic.

Not only were there some Hexlust fans from back in the day, but there were also some kids who were seeing us for the first time, in fact hadn't even really heard of us before, and had no idea what to expect. According to the open-mouthed reactions we got, some minds were blown, which is always gratifying to see.

We were in fine form, as well; this is probably the most "animated" I've seen JT and Tarzan get in a good long while. Maybe the fact that we were playing right on the floor took away the possible danger of falling off an elevated stage, but they were all over the place. Tarzan was getting in the audience, even with his bass, and JT would come over and play in front of my kit while making faces at me, and even got over near once or twice. This is when I think we're at our best, when we're able to be fully mobile and engage not just the audience, but each other.

We played the entire album, every original song we've written, and had a mosh pit going pretty much the entire time. Thankfully, everyone was also really great about not running into the microphones, which has been a problem at Armstrong shows past, and I know Tony was grateful for it. Probably the best part was the Frisbee that started going around at some point, zipping from one side of the hall to the other, and occasionally making its way to the "stage" area. One time it bonked Tony right in the noggin, and ultimately came to rest next to my drumkit, where it remained for the rest of my set. I was too busy killing myself playing an hour's worth of songs in the humid summer evening air.

"But Dart," you say, "your tunes are pretty short and you only have a couple longer songs. For the whole album's material, plus between-song banter, I'm thinking maybe forty-five minutes, tops." Well, can you say, double encore?? That's right, all those songs and still it all felt too short, so by JT's suggestion we pulled out reliable ol' "Sodomy & Lust," probably the worst we've played it in a while. Tony was impressed he still knew all the lyrics, but by this point, is there any part of that song we could possibly forget?

After that, Tony mouthed to me, "One more?" I responded, "NO, I can't." Fuck you, Tony, I'm out of water and can't lift my arms very well. But then I saw that Old Man Tarzan wasn't packing it in yet, and the audience didn't look like they were ready to go anywhere, and I saw Tony mouthing "Troops?" to JT, so I decided, fuggit, we'll go with Troops.

PSHH, PSHH, went my china, and we launched into "Troops of Doom," which I don't even remember playing but I'm sure was just a big fuckerycloud of flubbed fills and slippery solos. Tarzan later reported feeling like he could play our whole set all over again and wanted to do "Evil Dead," but the rest of us were done. It was right around eleven by then, time to pack it in anyway.

We received an offer or two for afterparty festivities, which we politely declined. I seriously don't see how any musician can go out gallivanting after playing. I need food and quiet, a sentiment echoed by my bandmates. Maybe we're just old. We went to Whataburger, got some food to go, and retired to Tony's apartment to unwind in peace.

SETLIST
F.B.F.
Toxic High
They Conjure
Baphomet Dawn
Imminent Retardation
Hellhammer
Meganecropolis
Tombs of the Blind Dead
Sodomy & Lust
Troops of Doom

CLOSING THOUGHTS
When these Armstrong shows go well, as this one did this evening, they're a testament to the DIY method of setting up shows. Between bands, when the place was empty, somebody would be going around picking up assorted trash and tossing it into the bin. During the sets, nobody got too rowdy, and we had help dealing with the drunken idiot shithead who accosted my bandmates after we were done, along with having his keys taken from him. As we were packing in our gear, the floors were mopped up and chairs put away. No bouncers, doormen, or waitstaff necessary, nobody was hospitalized, and a good time was had by all.

Our album, Manifesto Hexcellente, is currently in the mixing stages. Slow going as Walter is letting each of us oversee the sound adjustments of our individual contributions, but it's getting done. Even though we've figured out my drum sound, I'm going to be going back here soon to oversee the panning of my toms (there are quite a few long fills on this thing). After that, we have the "whole band" session where we listen to it and decide if we're happy overall, then it'll be time to unleash this abomination!

A physical release is definite; vinyl a strong maybe since all the cool kids are hip to that jive now'days; new designs for shirts an absolute; other crap that real bands do, including patches and stickers and buttons and posters and windshield decals and trading cards and tin lunchboxes and pinball machines and inflatable pools and themed Putt-Putt courses, will be considered. No guarantees though.

In fact, you know what, you might just get a download code, because fuck all that work. We can only be so competent, don'tcha know.

Return of the Nazarene Zombie Fest

DATE: Saturday, April 19, 2014
VENUE: Limelight, San Antonio, TX
BANDS: Morgengrau, Las Cruces, Flesh Hoarder, VBT, Cheese Grater Masturbation, Reign of Tyrants, Hexlust, Womanthrower, Richard Simmonz, USO

OH HEY, IT'S YOU GUYS
A year (to the day) since we last played a show, we in Hexlust took to the stage once more to unleash our speedthrashing slap-and-tickle show on a paying audience. The venue hosting the evening's tomfooligans was The Limelight, a place I had never before heard of under its current name, but have heard mentioned in tales of glory-day gigs from back when it was named Wacky's.

I was actually really happy with the place, and am surprised we'd never played there before. The stage was decently-sized, the staff were competent and friendly, and there was even an outside patio area where folks could get some fresh air without discarding their drinks. The venue itself is more deep than it is wide, and the stage's location at the back end potentially makes the act of getting gear to the stage an obstacle course of sharp table corners and unaware patrons. There is, however, a side door just past the table section where bands can pull up their vehicles and load in their crap.

Of course, we did things the hard way, taking our stuff in through the front door, because we believe in building resilience in mind and body by taking the most inconvenient route in getting things done.

Truth: we didn't want to move our vehicles, since the parking situation was either whatever free curb space you could find, or a pay lot across the street. We got there early and planned on staying put.

So, what have we been doing for a year, you may ask? We've been finishing up an album, that's what! Yes, friends, we are finally in the mixing stages of our first full-length, Manifesto Hexcellente. Don't ask me what that title means, because I have no earthly clue. Like our band name itself, those two words just sounded cool together so that's what we went with.

The story behind the recording is a long sad tale for another day, full of frustration, meth heads, thievery, location changes, sub-par performances, tendonitis, the band almost completely drifting apart, and - by far the biggest setback to this process - deciding we weren't satisfied (understatement) with what we had so far (just vocals and JT's solos left) and starting all. Over. AGAIN.

Because we like Morbid Angel and Vader so much, we just had to follow their example, even the counterproductive aspects.

In the months leading up to this show, when not finishing up the recording sessions, we were purchasing new equipment, holding more frequent and much more productive practices at an actual rehearsal studio, tightening up old songs, and even got starting work on new material. Unfortunately, we had plenty of riffs, but no actual songs completed and ready for the show. We hoped our wham-bam setlist of shorter songs (including "Imminent Retardation, which we rarely play) would be enough to get us through this gig without feeling too samey.

Redudancy quickly fell a few notches on my list of worries, though, as something felt wrong halfway through the first song. Especially worrisome was the sureness that it was something wrong with me. Shifting into muscle memory, I took quick stock of my kit: all stands were upright, sticks were intact, double pedal was working fine, kick drum was anchored in place. Everything that has ever been wrong before was hunky-dory, so why was my mental "CHECK ENGINE" light still on? It wasn't until we were a couple more songs in that I checked the underside of my snare and saw that my resonant head had burst, resulting in a neutered "tonk" instead of the robust "CRACK" I go for. Precisely how the awaiting hell did I accomplish that? Granted, the head was pretty old, and it never takes any direct damage so I rarely replace it, but why now of all times?

Thankfully, although it did distract me and leave me off my game for the rest of the set, the busted reso head didn't affect our sound in any significant way and we were able to continue uninhibited.

The audience energy took a few songs to build up, but things really got going once Tony announced the album. A genuine excitement was charged up once folks heard about our little Manifesto Hexcellente, and when we launched into "Imminent Retardation," the room really started to move.

Of course, right after that very song, we were saying goodnight and getting ready to pack it in. This was a festival-type lineup with like 11 bands, and even though a few had dropped off the bill by this time, it was still prudent that we get off the stage ASAP and keep this train rolling. The audience, however, weren't having that nonsense. Jake from Morgengrau was kind enough to point out, "It's only 8:50!," and we were quickly hit with requests for one more song, one more song, uno mas, uno mas! They specifically wanted to hear Tombs of the Blind Dead, the tune we mindfully left out due to its length and drawn-out ending (Baphomet Dawn was given the same consideration).

Being that we still had some time, we decided to give 'em what they wanted. I counted off, Tony launched into the beginning riff, and once the whole band came in with the audience-participation falsetto, shit went nuts. A pit started up immediately, people off to the side were headbanging, everyone was singing along to the chorus, some dude even spun his can in the air, which caused beer foam to spiral out and get all over the place, it was pandelerium!

We put a short end to Tombs (as short as we could, anyway) and STILL they weren't letting us go! This was slightly awkward for us, as everyone hates that band who play halfway through the night and take even the slightest provocation as the chance to play an encore, and you can bet that even more ire is felt toward those who throw out one more song after that, but this was a genuine crowd request, and we estimated that we still had a couple minutes to do a really short number. We once again went with the crowd's whims and pulled out our tried and true cover of "Troops of Doom," another song we were sure we wouldn't play just because we wanted to play all originals during our short set.

 And what would a cover of "Troops of Doom"  be without Jake's participation?

Although I was feeling rather underconfident about our performance, I was assured (with raised voices through wide smiles) that this was a solid, even great outing for Hexlust, and a hell of a note to come back on after a year off the stage.

The rest of the evening was spent talking with friends, so I didn't get around to watching a lot of the other bands. We caught up with Ralph, former vocalist of JT and Tarzan's high school band Nautilus, who just got out of the Marine Corps and surprised us all by showing up unannounced; I got to spend time with my brother, who moved out here to San Antonio in January, and my parents, who never miss a Hexlust show if they can help it; and JT, Tarzan, and I were regaled by Jeff AD, at our urging, with stories of AVRS tours and opinions of current metal releases while grabbing some decent Mexican food from the taco truck next door.

I did, however, catch Morgengrau's headlining set, and they have yet to disappoint me. Tight as ever, with furious energy, they played four new tunes that were very well-received and show a lot of promise for their future release, along with a super sped-up version of Pestilence's "Chronic Infection." The crowd - what little of it remained at this hour - were really into them, with lots of headbanging and moshing, which is really saying something considering it was 1:30 in the morning.

It's a sad fact that a couple fights broke out, which a) scattered the crowd and took their attention away from the stage, b) threatened to spill over onto the stage more than once, and c) wound up involving my bass player when he tried to help pull a fight apart and was mistaken for a combatant.

Thankfully, that particular matter was cleared up peacefully when it was all revealed to be a misunderstanding, and if anything Tarzan made a new friend out of the ordeal. At the end of the night, I think he was more upset over the beer that was spilled on his pedals than the scuffle itself.

Overall, a wonderful evening. Everyone in the band was happy with the performance, we had a great time catching up with all our friends, and we're really looking forward to finally releasing this damn album. I'll do my best to keep everyone up-to-date on release dates and whatnot.