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.
