Man, was it crowded. I’m talking about “can’t breathe because if you do your gut’s gonna wind up pushing someone out of the way” crowded. “Can’t get a beer because of the swarm of humanity” crowded. “Too many fucking people in the room” crowded. The saving grace? Scumbags outnumbered hipsters at least four to one — a rarity in that borough these days. And, you know, good for the bands too, though I guess when you say “Members of Type O Negative” to a certain faction of Brooklyn headbangers, a crowded room is inevitable. No, they didn’t play “Black No. 1.”
Or maybe they did. To be honest, I had to leave before it was over. Staying was only going to lead to more drinking, and with more drinking, I wasn’t going to be able to go anywhere, so by the end of the night, it was get or be got. A question of DWI-less survival. Amazing how often these things come up.
Seventh Void. Yeah, it was fun to see Kenny Hickey and Johnny Kelly walking around the Trash Bar (as much as anyone could walk anywhere with so many people) like they weren’t two of the four dudes who put out October Rust, but really, I was there for The Resurrection Sorrow‘s CD release show for their first album, Hour of the Wolf. After the years I’ve seen frontman Alex Dementia (After Dark) and bassist Alex Coelho (Tides Within) put into the NYC underground, showing up seemed the least I could do.
Their set was what I’ve come to expect particularly from Dementia over time, and by that I mean insanely energetic. Guitarist Zak Gross and drummer Louie Gasparro filled out the lineup and fit in well with Coelho and the vocalist, who seemed to be doing laps between the front and rear of the stage for a goodly portion of their time, smiling wide and busting through tunes from the record. The crowd was into it, undulating and shifting in a way that might make a beery stomach seasick, but fortunately there were no incidents. At two intervals, I had to go into the front room for air. Have I mentioned it was crowded? Good. It was.
Ditto for Seventh Void. I remember reviewing their Heaven is Gone record a while back and digging it well enough, though I never actually bought the thing until the show, figuring I’d find it used somewhere along the way — that I didn’t is indicative of something, I suppose. They were loud, they rocked, everyone loved them. Not really much else to say about it than that, which is perhaps why I waited so long to pick up the album. They’re good, Brooklyn sure as hell likes them, and that’s that. I wasn’t blown away, but by then my mind was on the drive back to the valley anyway and thinking about how good the cool air would feel outside the venue. I’d give them another shot under different circumstances, to be sure.
And I hope to catch The Resurrection Sorrow again in the near future as well. Along with meeting the venerable Seldon Hunt and telling him how much I liked the artwork for the Ol’ Scratch record, their heavy riffs and thick chugging were an easy evening highlight. Better than the drive home through Manhattan, no contest.
Tags: Brooklyn, New York, Seventh Void, The Resurrection Sorrow, Unsigned bands