The metallic adventures of Manhero, a denim-clad freelance writer/drummer/dj/promoter/novice photographer/sweetheart living in Portland.
Seeing Lemmy Kilmister on any stage is like watching Jesus walk on water. That’s why nobody should ever open for Motorhead. You could file everyone in before the show, give them a beer, then explain the meaning of life and nobody would care. Valient Thorr is a fantastic live band, and Clutch…well their okay, but who fucking cares? Motorhead was there, somewhere waiting in the wings!
They played some standards and new ones. Maybe someday they won’t have to play “Ace of Spades” or “Overkill” to appease a crowd. A track off Another Perfect Day was thrown in the set, which was a treat. Lemmy barely shows his age. He moves a little slower, but that’s only because his body can’t keep up with the rock he’s putting out. For Mikkey Dee every show is a party. You can tell by the look on his face. He’s a five year old blowing out the candle on his birthday cupcake. Phil Campbell is a great guitar player, but as a friend of mine put it best, “he just goes through the motions.” It’s probably tough standing next to someone so sure of his rock essence as Lemmy. You can’t compete with that.
However, as a rule one cannot utter a single negative remark about a Motorhead show as a whole. It would be like calling Gandhi anorexic or Mother Theresa lazy.
This is one of my all-time favorite songs - “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” by Ronnie James Dio / Tony Iommi. Even if you’re not a fan of Christmas music, chances are you’ll love this song. It’s packed with crushing riffs and passionate vocals - RJD style. I just can’t get enough of it.
After writing a letter to the BBC requesting to jam with her favorite band, a 70 year old English granny named May Booker got her wish. Make sure you stay tuned long enough to see her bitchin’ organ solo!
After listening to metal for nearly half my life now, going to shows, and posting on online forums, I’ve encountered a slew of morons who I shall deem, “the metal police.” The metal police are kids whose parents never paid them any attention, so now they feel the need to pay attention to everyone else and to actually go out of their way to be rude to strangers. Despite their vehement opposition to fascist views, they have established a system of determining how “metal” someone is, based solely on physical appearance. For the past few years, I have been running into these idiots, who often mock me for having blonde hair and being relatively slim with big boobs. Apparently, you can’t possess these particular attributes and like metal.
I was asked to come up with my top five favorite records of 2010 by the good ‘ol Portland Mercury. While it may seem like a relativley simple task considering the amount of music that is released each year, for someone like me that primarily listens to metal, such a task is a bit daunting.
Time Warrior, one of my metal brethren, put it best when I asked him to jog my memory. He could only think of two or three and said, “It’s difficult because we live in the past.”
It’s so very true. For many metal fans, listening to and purchasing modern metal releases is a distant second to revisiting old gems and finding long lost records. Thats not to say that modern metal is not good. There are plenty of bands redefining genre lines and broadening metal’s spectrum, but there’s something about the birth of a genre. Those first sprouts of the metal family tree have the raw energy and life that the new branches could never have.
Born too late, I guess. Here is the list I was able to create:
MY TOP FIVE RECORDS OF 2010:
1. The Devil’s Blood “The Time Of No Time Evermore”
2. Wolvserpent “Blood Seed”
3. Scorpions “Sting In The Tail”
4. Watain “Lawless Darkness”
5. Excruciator “By The Gates Of Flesh” EP
Normally when I go to a show I expect to hear some loud tunes and see how a band creates said tunes, but I have never been to a show where a rotten stench was a part of the act.
About half way through Goatwhore’s set a rancid aroma started wafting into the place. I went over to a friend of mine that was working security to the left of the stage and said, “Is that smell what I think it is?” He replied, “Yeah. I think so.”
The music editor and assistant editor for The Portland Mercury showed up to see the spectacle I had been telling them about. One of them quipped, “It smells like a third-world butcher shop in here. It smells like parts.” All this transpired before Goatwhore had even finished their set.
Once all the banners were hung, the candles lit, the altar set, and the 12 animal heads with flesh still adorning them were placed on their spikes, Watain appeared out of the smoke.
From the beginning to end, Watain was a frightening presence. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them or my camera out of my hand. I didn’t even headbang to my favorite songs because I felt like I would miss something. I’ve seen a few corpse-painted black metal bands over the years, and they all just seemed like dudes wearing corpse paint trying to act scary. The frenzied and manical look in every member of Watain’s eyes showed me they were not just dudes in corpse paint, they were the real thing. They were dead.
I’ve been to a ton of shows in my day, but I have never experienced anything like Watain, nor will I ever again unless they come back through town.
Below is a link to my interview with Erik Danielsson and further proof of Watain’s seriousness.