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.
