I knew when I saw the dude in the Trouble shirt that I was on the right bus. It wasn’t as hot today, some rain, but still humid enough to sweat on the way to Dürer Kert, which has tables enough outside for probably a couple hundred people, though there weren’t that many about a half-hour before the listed 7PM show time. A couple food trucks around. A bar playing music with a beat, including a lounge-techno version of “Imagine.” A small, now-empty, stage that would be perfect for a DJ. Dürer Kert (the ‘kert’ means ‘garden,’ I think as in beer garden) looked ready for a party. It got one.

I wouldn’t have fretted about arriving early — that’s a total lie; yes I would — but the prompt start the other night made me want to play it safe. That, despite two more bands on the bill as locals Red Swamp — whose metal-tinged soundcheck I heard walking up — and Shapat Terror were opening. On some levels, I guess that’s the difference between a Monday and a Friday night gig. I’m nervous either way. For everything. All the time. Won’t matter when the music starts.

This being my first time seeing Stoned Jesus made it something of an event in my mind. Nothing against Dopelord, just that I’ve watched them play before, though the advent of 2023’s Songs for Satan (review here) put them at another level in my mind. I’ll say I was looking forward to both and mean it for more than diplomacy’s sake, but I’ve enjoyed and written about both for over a decade, and this would be my first live experience with Stoned Jesus. I was nervous for that too, even with a fair amount of night to go before I got there.

Doors were at 7, so that’s when I went in. It was just me in the nagyterem (“big room”) for a while, but they were playing good music and it was cooler than outside and I’m a fucking misanthrope, so I sat on the floor and waited. Green Lung, Dozer, Kyuss, etc. Me and security. I didn’t know there was a photo pit or I’d have tried to get a pass. I messaged Igor from Stoned Jesus, whom I was looking forward to meeting, working under the kind-of-a-bummer assumption that dude had better things to do a couple hours before showtime than get me sorted. So it goes, in my mind. In real life, he came through in like five minutes, I met the promoter and got to take pictures no problem without having to stand in one spot all night and feel like a jerk. That turnaround, that kindness (thank you, Zsanett), kind of made my night.

But there was a show. Here’s how it went:

Red Swamp

Pretty discouraging to have studied the magyarul language for over a year now and barely be able to pick up a word of Red Swamp’s between-song banter apart from “thanks very much” (köszönöm szépen) and other syllables here and there. Long way to go if I actually want to speak it, I guess. Their lyrics were in English to follow suit from their moniker and their style of riff metal more broadly, in which influences from the likes of Lamb of God and Pantera could be heard in addition to the odd metalcore breakdown, vocals capably shifting between cleans and harsher screams/growls. Their opener, “Stoned,” made a hook of a line that was something approximate to “Cuz I’m already stoned,” and that was a bit of charm, and when they hit a slowdown, the Crowbarian nod was there for sure, but their baseline level of aggression would’ve been a surprise if I hadn’t cheated and checked out their newest single “Born to Bleed” this afternoon. They took a photo together on stage when they were done — the last song had the biggest (“a legnagyobb,” which I learned this week) groove of the bunch — and left to the start of “Sweet Leaf” over the P.A. Maybe not my kind of metal all the way, but they were good at what they were doing, having fun and nobody got hurt, so I’m not complaining. The room almost completely cleared when they were done as people went to sit outside with their drinks. I looked up from writing on my phone and there were like six dudes left. Suppose that’s how it’s done at Dürer Kert. I dig it.

Shapat Terror

While both their name and the animated logo on the screen behind them gave a nastier superficial impression, Shapat Terror won me over quickly with their not-emo-but-post-hardcore-rooted melody and noise-rock-but-grown-up sway. Big Soundgarden influence in the vocals, and that’s not a comparison I’m wont to break out unless it’s a compliment. I’d checked them out for a cursory listen before the show too, and I liked that enough to pick up the tape they had at the merch table, but the way the punch of bass from the stage set alongside the major-key reach and the summery groove, well, I wish I’d heard of them before this gig but they’re a band I’m glad to have seen. Nothing too fancy arrangement-wise, but no chestbeating either, and no pretense in a down-to-earth stage presence despite sounding as a group like they probably listen to seven different kinds of punk I’ve never heard of, including whichever kind has chug. Everybody who had gone outside and then some came back in, and by the time they were wrapping up, I legitimately wished they would do a longer set. A couple backing screams near the end were a surprise but not out of place. Good band. Sometimes you luck out.

Dopelord

Their Satanic majesties rolled from start to finish, opening with “The Chosen One” from Songs for Satan, which, yes, has absolutely been playing nonstop in my brain since I found out this show was happening while I was in Hungary. That, “Addicted to Black Magick,” and everything else was a highlight as the Polish four-piece found a consuming level of volume and used it to proliferate a stoner idolatry with a lumber all their own. Great pairing, their being out with Stoned Jesus. Two bands who can break out a massive groove when they need to but have much more to offer than just that, however much the sense of worship — volume, riff, devil, whathaveyou — is central to the character of Dopelord’s music. They played in front of grainy horror footage and the plod was thick until they thrashed out “Headless Decapitator,” which felt like a long way removed from the stage-intro “It Is So Nice to Get Stoned,” but was a hell of a way to spend a couple minutes just the same. Singularly stoned and pummelingly heavy, it was a celebration for the converted, and watching Dopelord, it’s rarely such a raw pleasure to be among that number. They closed with “Reptile Sun” and “Doom Bastards.” Beers were raised. Hoots were hollared. Ar last one couple I saw was making out. Not so much for the latter, though, you know, whatever, but I was really, really glad to have left the apartment to witness Dopelord’s absolutely uncompromising vision of Sabbathian stoner doom, which has only become more their own over time.

Stoned Jesus

I met Igor Sydorenko, Andrew Rodin and Yurii Kononov during Dopelord’s set. The latter two, also brothers, are newcomers in the rhythm section of the band celebrating their 15th — or XVth, as they put it on the poster — anniversary with this tour and their upcoming Fall run. But if you want to know anything about Stoned Jesus, know this: Igor’s no dummy. He’s got a new lineup, but if they weren’t full-baked, or ready, or something was off, they wouldn’t be out on a tour like this at all. Instead, as the band has relocated to Germany as wartime expats following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and are pivoting from the originally intended follow-up to 2023’s Father Light (review here) — that album was slated to be part of a duology with Mother Dark, now shelved as understand it with the band moving forward in the current incarnation and new new material — while also doing catalog reissues through Season of Mist, the band were airtight through material new and old. “Thoughts and Prayers” from the new album was a highlight, and the set brought into focus for me just how much Stoned Jesus like a blues lick, sure, but how they’re able to shift between a mellow boogie and outright crush without making either feel out of place in the song. Igor is a better singer than I’ve ever seen him get credit for, and the band’s emphasis is exactly where they want it to be, where Igor wants it to be. They auctioned off an original vinyl of Seven Thunders Roar to go to their Ukraine fund. It went for 33,000 HUF, which is about US $90. Worth every penny all the more since they went into “I’m the Mountain” after. The classic. It wasn’t the last song they played, but an inevitable crescendo anyhow, and the crowd was right there for it with he band. The nod of “Get What You Deserve” followed, then “Buried Alive by Love” and “Here Come the Robots” for a lively finish.

—

Not gonna lie, by the time Stoned Jesus were done rocking out, I was all rocked out. Out-rocked, even. I leaned on the wall in the back, sore, tired and ready to be done with a day that was going on 19 hours ahead of another early start in the morning. I hobbled my plantar fasciitis self through the parking lot and out to the road to meet up with the taxi I called for in the Bolt app (the last bus back had been at 11:36), my phone at 23 percent battery and my body no less in need of a charge.

The taxi driver, Tamás, was a hero with chill techno and no conversation. I saw him glance in the back seat a couple times, presumably to make sure I was still alive. It had been another night I felt lucky to be so — and here I acknowledge The Patient Mrs., through whom all thigs are possible — and the subsequent crash-out was proportional to the joy of the experience. Thank you, Budapest. I’ll always remember that the first time I saw Stoned Jesus — and I very much hope not the last — it was here.

Thanks for reading. More pics after the jump.

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