Before Show

I got to Starland Ballroom in time to stand on the line outside; a venue I’ve taken for granted but that works on a model I’m blessed to exist concurrent to, as those things go. This land, they call it Slayerville, runs old and deep with heavy metal. Long ago it was the Birch Hill in Old Bridge, the Metal Militia. WSOU nights, East Coast Rocker, and before that. It was here before the internet, may yet persist thereafter. Things are more scattered now than they were, but it’s still here and it’s a thing to respect.

Acid Bath, Baroness and The Skull was the call to show up early, with Blood Vulture opening. The line went even further back in the lot than where I parked, on the western shore of a puddle that turned out to be something of a lake. Doors were at 7, at which point I was plucked out of the line on account of my backpack and sent to be somebody else’s problem up front. I could not tell you how many times I’ve been to Starland Ballroom, and I still don’t know where to stand. Check-in was a breeze — I never think a thing is going to work out until it does; someday I’ll write a poem about pass-related anxiety in a photo caption — and I found a spot inside and sat to wait for the 7:30 start.

Here’s the night from there.

Blood Vulture

Thick tones, a couple genuinely elephantine riffs, some edge of goth in the keys, and a whole lot of melody typified Blood Vulture’s sound, and I’d imagine the hooks that came through the dual-vocal presentation wouldn’t take long to sink into the brain coming from a record. I never heard them before this show, which I guess means I have catching up to do with their debut album, Die Close, which came out last June. Fine. I never said I was any good at this. The singer/guitarist introduced every song by saying it was about sucking blood, and making a Misfits or Danzig reference, which I guess is a thing you do. They didn’t play long, which I mean was okay because hey let’s keep it moving we got a whole night ahead, but they did leave me curious to hear more. And maybe all their songs are about sucking blood, what do I know. I’m not sure I have a problem with somebody working on a theme, as long as the songs hold up, and these certainly seemed to. Positive first impression.

The Skull

Legions of Doom, which is most of The Skull at this point, just got back from a UK tour. Not a week ago, I think. Yet there they were, with Karl Agell holding down the difficult vocal role once filled by Eric Wagner. I’ve seen this incarnation of The Skull before, so I knew to look forward to it accordingly. They doomed, they rocked, they jammed on “Send Judas Down.” That was when the crowd surfing began. Merry shenanigans during “For Those Which Are Asleep” — the grammar on that still gets me; it’s been like a decade — and Agell (who’s also in Lie Heavy these days) was down to frontman it up a bit for a playful crowd. Saturday night in Jersey, showing up early. As the same four dudes made strangers touch their bodies over and over again crowdsurfing, the band played on and were masterful. Not in the least hindered by jetlag — at least they didn’t sound that way — and down to the drummer playing for a few bars, one stick balanced on the head or in the mouth or both. So shenanigans abounded. How do you do classic doom metal and make it such a darn good time? They had people clapping along when they closed with Trouble’s “Psychotic Reaction.” It was rad. A headliner set. Will hope to see them again at Cosmic Sonic Rendezvous in May.

Baroness

I’m pretty sure I’m on record at this point multiple times over that I’m not a huge Baroness fan and never really have been. I say the same thing every time I see them. But they’re great live. They just are. I could probably look up every time I’ve caught them on a stage I’m usually there to watch someone else play on, but I will tell you that in that however-much experience I’ve never seen them be less than 100 percent onstage, an excellent, professional, heavy melodic progressive rock act. I don’t really dig it, still, but even as a committed not-fan I understand they’re amazing. If you told me they were your favorite band, how would I argue?

Acid Bath

The place went off when they hoisted the Acid Bath banner, like it’d been going off for the iHop ad on the screen between bands. Come not between Central Jersey and its good time. I’m not OG with Acid Bath, like back to the ’90s, but they were always a band that stood out in terms of sound and obviously they still do, which I think accounts for some of the youth contingent in the crowd. Cool to see that for an outfit whose last record came out 30 years ago. But anyway, I’m not gonna tell you some story about the time I was there when, because I wasn’t, but I’m glad to have seen them now and I’m sure given what I saw that in many ways they’re a better band now than they were then, but one way or the other, what ended up being coolest about it — aside from the set itself, anyhow — was the fact that there were young people there, weirdo youth, some goths in makeup, alongside old punkers, sludgers, Nola heads, and again Jersey showed up. People were into it. And not just people, kids. High schoolers. They had a hit on TikTok or something (I refuse to say “go viral” or any variant from this moment on), so I was told. Whatever it was, it seems to have done the trick. At one point I stood next to a young dude in back dressed in full Gacy-clown regalia. The whole bit. So they — the young people — weren’t just there, they were feeling it. There wasn’t a song that wasn’t audibly sung along to, more crowdsurf/moshing, etc., and the band owned the moment. I didn’t know the words, but I feel grateful to have been there for the show and grateful they played in NJ at all. Dax Riggs’ “holy shit” in response to the crowd seemed genuine and reasonable.

—

We were informed in the photo pit that if you didn’t have the Acid Bath-specific sticker pass, you couldn’t take pictures. Okay. So I didn’t take pictures. It’s their tour. What am I gonna do, ask to see a manager? Argue? Fine, no pictures. I’ll go hang in back, and that’s what I did.

Oh and I met Karl Agell, briefly. I always meet briefly. I was painfully, painfully weird. Didn’t mention to him that if it wasn’t for C.O.C.’s Blind record, which he sang on, I wouldn’t have been there in the first place, because “yo dude I listened to you when I was 10 and it changed my life” isn’t really a conversation either, but it’s true anyhow.

Ride there was the new Gjenferd. Ride home was All Them Witches Sleeping Through the War. Thanks to Ron Holzner, The Patient Mrs. and you for reading.

More pics after the jump.
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Acid Bath, When the Kite String Pops (1994)

I’ve been riding some ’90s regression pretty hard the last few weeks (months) or so. Not claiming I was cool enough to be down with Acid Bath‘s When the Kite String Pops when it came out on Rotten Records in 1994 — and neither were 95% of the people who’ll tell you they were, or the band would’ve been huge — but the vibe suits me pretty well now, its pre-genre take on sludge feels less hedged in by aesthetic than a lot of what came later, as it inevitably would. Formed a couple years after Eyehategod in Louisiana, Acid Bath were sort of lumped in the same scene, but there’s more going on than slowed-down hardcore on When the Kite String Pops and its 1996 follow-up, Paegan Terrorism Tactics, a heavier-edged post-grunge head-down malaise coming through in the vocals of frontman Dax Riggs on “Tranquilized” and any number of other cuts throughout the record’s overwhelming peak-CD-era 69-minute span. I’d call it unmanageable, but the album’s actually worth paying attention to across that time. You figure out a way to manage.

Whether it’s their Nola compatriots in Eyehategod, Soilent Green or even Crowbar, Acid Bath tapped into a vibe that no one else of their ilk and era quite captured in the same way. Eyehategod, more drugs. Soilent Green, more grind. Crowbar, slower. But it’s the fact that they found their own niche — clean vocals, flourish of keys, etc. — that I think has sustained Acid Bath‘s cult following more than two decades after the fact. Of course, guitarist Sammy Duet can now be found in Goatwhore with Soilent Green‘s Ben Falgoust, and Dax Riggs has garnered some measure of a following as a solo singer-songwriter, but after the death of bassist/backing vocalist Audie Pitre in 1997, Acid Bath went on for a while but would never get to putting out a third record. As such, their two offerings retain an individual mark on the fertile heaviness of New Orleans in sound and overall vibe, even if they’re something of a footnote commercially compared to later acts.

Hope you enjoy.

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I’m in Maryland tonight and tomorrow for the Vultures of Volume fest, and it starts in less than an hour so I’ll keep it brief. It was a hell of a trip getting here between waiting three hours for AAA to come pick up The Patient Mrs.‘ car last night at a rest stop on the side of I-95 in Massachusetts that we found out later was named “Pickle Park” after all the dudes meeting there to have sex in the woods. It was not the Thursday evening I’d planned, to say the least, and well, if you’re meeting people at a rest stop to get it on and that’s your thing, okay, but it made for a weird three-hour feeling of intrusion on my part.

Got to Connecticut a little before midnight, crashed, and continued south this morning, stopping in Jersey to pick up a camera and lens I rented only to find out that I couldn’t afford the $2,000 hold they were apparently going to put on my credit card. I don’t have a $2,000 line of credit, and they couldn’t split up the sale over different cards, so I have my regular camera instead of a nice, fancy one for the fest. Felt great. Really. Really great. Really made that 80 minutes I drive each way to work every day — not today, obviously — feel worthwhile. Feels awesome to still be broke while I work to support someone else’s financial interests.

So needless to say I’m in the perfect headspace to go rock out for the next seven hours or so. Should be a blast. Gotta remember to hydrate. Gotta remember the ibuprofen in my bag. Sore feet I’m just gonna have to deal with — forgot to bring supportive footwear; sandals it is — but the rest I should be able to reasonably control, including the much-needed attitude adjustment.

Hold nose, dive in.

Reviews on Monday and Tuesday? Maybe Tuesday and Wednesday, depending on Labor Day celebration and how much I’m feeling like opening my laptop. We’ll see.

Wherever you’re at, please stay safe and have a great weekend, and please check out the forum and radio stream.

The Obelisk Forum

The Obelisk Radio

Well, it’s quarter to eight on Friday night, and I’m drunk at the office (The Patient Mrs. is here to handle eventual vehicular transit back to the valley), and god damn it, nothing less abrasive than Acid Bath will do. The above VHS port is of “Bleed Me an Ocean.” The record was Paegan Terrorism Tactics, and this is a prime example of a band that should be killing it at this point doing reunion tours. One can only assume they’ll get there. In the meantime, this is what they sounded like in Arkansas, 1996. Pretty right on, if you ask me. Clinton-era sludge. Fuckin’ a.

I don’t know if you check it out on the regular, but the forum has a bunch of new news up, from the fact that Karma to Burn has dropped off the upcoming tour with Truckfighters due to personal issues, to the Ides of Gemini release info, to new Clutch tour dates, new audio from Black Pyramid and the cover for the new Arc of Ascent record, it’s been quite a week on the news board, so hit it up if you get the chance. I can’t nearly keep up with all that stuff on the blog side of things, so hopefully that’ll serve as a decent supplement and you’ll be able to find it of some use.

Next week, a long-awaited Six Dumb Questions with Sleestak, as well as reviews of Temples, Les Discrets, Pale Divine and others. I’m waiting on Mario Lalli‘s column, but if it’s not that, I’ve got Woody High‘s first ’80s installment ready to go as a backup, so either way, it’ll be one or the other, and Sunday, I’ll be headed to Easton, PA, to see a music-show pilot taping that involves The Atomic Bitchwax, and I’ll hopefully have pics and words on that come Monday. Thursday, I’ll be hitting a screening for the Bobby Liebling documentary, Last Days Here, so I should have something on that come Friday. Looking forward to seeing it, either way. That one’s been a long time coming.

But anyway, enough of the drag that has been this week, existentially and work-wise. If you’ve got a beer, a goblet of fortified wine, or, say, a red party cup of gin on the rocks (just pulling possibilities out of the air), hoist it in the air in celebration of Acid Bath‘s underappreciated sludings, and have a great and safe weekend. I’ll see you on the forum and back here Monday for more zany fun.

It is hour three of a football game about which you couldn’t care less if they paid you. Your family is just approaching the line of intoxicated where the passive aggression is activated. Your little cousin has just asked you where he or she can score some pot. You were hopeful this year would be different. You need an escape.

Suddenly, you remember The Obelisk posted a buttload of videos for just such an occasion, called it a “Pre-Thanksgiving Media Blitz,” figuring that maybe on this most familial of holidays, heads might need a break from everything, if only for a couple minutes. And is there a better way to spend that break than watching high quality live videos from Kyuss, Dozer, Colour Haze, Alabama Thunderpussy, Dixie Witch, Black Pyramid and — for those whose day is even a little more stressful — Acid Bath? You’ve already hid out in the bathroom long enough to do all the crossword puzzles in that book. Relax and enjoy the entertainment. At least catch your breath.

Truth be told, this is as much for me as it is for any of you who might see the benefit of it. Being the pajama-clad social misfit I am, even the thought of bringing my family together with that of The Patient Mrs. is enough to make me want to crawl into a hole. I fully anticipate excusing myself from the before-dinner goings on to come upstairs and watch at least one of these clips. And to make it holiday-special, I tried to find the best quality stuff I could. The Colour Haze video from DunaJam alone gives me a sense of inner peace, which I anticipate needing on Thanksgiving as much as another glass of wine.

If you’re like me (and if not, congratulations on your well-adjustedness), please enjoy the videos after the jump and remember, no matter what the tv tells you, you don’t actually have to get up at five in the morning to go shopping at Target.

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Alright y’all, there’s about a ton more shit I wanted to get up this week (IOU one Buried Treasure about the finds from last weekend in Connecticut), but I’ll just have to take the next couple days to revel in my failure. I’m due in Memphis for a wedding on Friday, and that’s a hell of a drive from the valley, so I gotta hit the road. Before I go, I leave you with this Acid Bath video for “Toubabo Koomi” from 1994’s When the Kite String Pops. For anyone disgruntled at doing taxes and whatever other bullshit you’ve got to deal with till the weekend, this should help relieve the stress.