Meet Kimberly, my first subject. It was a no brainer to kick this new installment off by interviewing this lovely gal. She’s got brains, beauty… a penchant for headbanging. I picked her because she’s at all the shows, knows a ton of people in the scene, and, well, has a number of vests that I have questions about.

Haad: What do they call you?

Kim: I suppose it just depends which circle of friends you ask. My birth certificate reads “Kimberly Amari Galdamez.” My teammates will sometimes refer to me as “KG,” one of my coaches will only call me “fireball,” some people in the LA metal scene know me as “Painkiller” etc. But a majority of people feel most comfortable calling me “Kim” sometimes “Kimmy” when they want to be extra endearing.

H: Where are you from?

K: Born and raised in Los Angeles!

H: When you’re not at shows contributing to your future hearing loss, what are you doing?

K: Where do I start? I’m currently a full-time Trojan at the University of Southern California completing my Junior year. I’m heavily involved on-campus through different organizations. Some of these organizations include: The Latina/o Student Assembly (secretary), USC Women’s club volleyball team (defensive specialist), Music Industry Connection (vice president), and USC Coaching Corps (coach). Off-campus I work for the non-profit organization Starving Musicians Program as Executive Assistant. When I’m not at meetings, catching up on emails, or trying to pass my classes I really enjoy dining at different restaurants in LA. I’m a sucker for Happy Hour specials and wine bars.

H: When’s the first time you saw someone rocking a vest that was patched up?

K: Let’s go back to the year 2005. I was merely 14 years old. By then I had been to a few metal gigs in the LA area and had made friends in the scene. Most of them embraced the 1980s style. I admired how much detail most people put into their look. It wasn’t just about bands shirts and jeans, but something more. Some took pride in their leather jackets, their vests, their patches, their sneakers, their boots, etc. From then on out I was hooked on spandex, denim and leather. Sometimes a person’s image can say a lot about how they feel about the scene. And before I turn people off, I don’t mean choosing fashion over music, I mean reinforcement.

H: What made you decide to get your first vest?

K: I made my first vest to showcase the bands I supported in the LA scene. It wasn’t about looking “cool” or “kvlt” but just about showing my support. With time I made more and eventually I made my main kutte that I wear to most shows and festivals.

H: When did you get it, and have you made another one since?

K: I’ve had many vests since I made my first one in 2005. I really just took an old jacket in my closet and decided to create a vest. When you’re young you have so much extra time to get creative.

H: Which band had the honor of gracing your first vest?

K: This question actually made me dig far and deep into my memory. The first band to grace my first vest was Fueled By Fire. I met them late in 2004 and became really good friends with them. They were one of the first few bands in the Los Angeles thrash scene that I was close with. Believe it or not, those guys are like brothers to me and we’re still very close. Fun fact: they went to my high school graduation in 2008, among other important events in my life. After I added them to my vest other local bands followed like: Execution, Witchaven, Merciless Death, and Malicious Assault.

H: Do you believe that there’s a certain “patch etiquette” or a set of written or unwritten rules to follow when it comes to vests/patches? Feel free to get into different topics here — the mixture of band patches from various genres, the placement of patches, if there’s a particular order in which spaces need to be covered etc.

K: I’m going to try to answer this question without sounding elite or like a “metal fashion” Nazi. It sounds ridiculous, but I have some rules I hold myself accountable to and I know a few people that do the same. It’s all based on personal preference. I’m very detail oriented with everything I do, so I’m no different with my vest(s). At this point I have a few vests. Each one has a “theme.” My pride and joy is my kutte with all embroidered patches. Other vests have printed patches, only studs and buttons, only a back patch, and so on. I’m not saying all people should go through similar processes. After all, a kutte is about who you are. Let your taste and personality show.

H: Which patch would you say is your own “holy grail” of patches? In other words, which one do you love and appreciate the most?

K: I have a few I’m crazy about, but one of my prized possessions is my embroidered MANOWAR Sign of the Hammer back patch. I mentioned earlier that my main kutte is all embroidered patches. For the longest time I couldn’t decide what to put on the back. For a while I had several patches covering the back, but once I came across the MANOWAR back patch it felt complete.

H: Finally, this interview series focuses on the vest/kutte/battle jacket culture within the metal scene positively, but do you believe there are instances where this subculture can be looked at negatively?

K: I absolutely think this subculture of vests/kuttes/battle jackets is sometimes looked upon with a poor connotation. While there are many that support and exalt it, others think it’s too superficial, which I can understand. Diehards use it as a means of showing off their rare of merch, what bands they worship, and sometimes their sewing skills (haha). There are instances where it even becomes a competition, more so in Europe I would say. I can’t even start to try to list the differences between the US and European heavy metal cultures, but we can leave that for a different time. In the end we can all agree there are excessive amounts of subcultures not just in the US, but in LA alone. It’s just a matter of finding your niche and enjoying it.

I missed opener Wretched due to showtime being at 5pm. Hell, I even missed most of Impending Doom, but our photographer managed to catch some pretty cool shots throughout their set which he described as “a waste of ear plugs cause the shit was so loud.”

Three Inches of Blood had the 3rd spot in the lineup. Too early if you ask me, but that didn’t change anything about their usually chaotic set. If anything, it was a good test to see if we’d be able to hang the rest of the night. That’s not to say the 3 Inches of Blood pit paled in comparison to the rest, because the 3IOB mosh pit is as frightening and uncomfortable as they come. Those in the pit area knew what they were in for as soon as “Leather Lord” started. A whirlwind of miscreants running in a counter-clockwise fashion, pumping fists and head banging almost simultaneously. It was almost as if there was a sense of choreography to it all, dictated by Cam Pipes and Co. After the excellent intro, we were led into “Deadly Sinners,” a staple of the 3IOB set. By then, the people that were outside shooting the shit decided to come inside, and make things worse. The somewhat organized pit turned into an all out brawl. Bodies hitting the floor (No Drowning Pool), beers being flung into the air, and even some weed being smoked casually in the middle of it all. I tried my best to grab at this community joint, but it wasn’t meant to be, as I fell countless times trying to “enlighten” myself. As we were tearing up the ground floor, 3 Inches of Blood were doing the same on stage. There aren’t too many bands that bring an energy like they do, and it’s mostly fun (as opposed to dark, or serious) energy that carries throughout whatever venue they’re playing. Three Inches of Blood might have reached their peak as performers. There was never a hiccup in the music, and Cam Pipes, astonishingly, is still able to hit those incredibly high notes after so many years of touring. As long as they’re still penning metal anthems like “Battles & Brotherhood,” and the usual set-closing “Goat Rider’s Horde,” I think we’ll be swilling beer, and knocking people in the mouth to 3 Inches of Blood material for a long time.

Job For a Cowboy came up next. I’ve seen them many times before, so I wasn’t too crazy about getting devoured by a swarm of people for 30 minutes. I grew to like this band a lot more as their career has progressed. They’ve separated themselves from the “core” scene, and they’ve stuck to a legit death metal sound a la Cannibal Corpse. I mostly recognized material from their album Ruination, but they also played some new material that sounded awesome. I was pretty relieved to be watching from afar because I was pretty beat up from… getting beat up in the 3 Inches of Blood pit. Plus, they’ve retained pretty much all their fans from their days as a deathcore band, and I saw lots of arm swinging, and karate kicking. I didn’t want to be a part of that.

Tech Death icons Dying Fetus came on after JFAC. I have to admit, I’m not really a fan of the Tech Death stuff, so I didn’t get too involved with watching Dying Fetus. They did have a legion of fans there willing to pummel each other in case pansies like me decided not to participate. The few times I did stop to pay attention, I was pretty impressed with the fact that only three guys are responsible for making so much noise. I’m proud that you only get that kind of musicianship from Metal.

The Faceless. Yeah, they played that night. I stood in confusion with my pals, and the majority of kids in the pit that didn’t know when to mosh, and went to pretend to air-bass. I don’t like the djenty sounding stuff that’s popular these days. These guys kinda fuse it with Death Metal, and I’m not into it. I don’t hate them for trying something new, though. I can appreciate that part. I would have to say that they were the least enjoyable of all the bands I watched.  The pit was weak, I’m not into the djent, and a friend pointed out that every few minutes someone was running over to a lap-top to cue up ambient noises between songs. I know these guys have tons of fans, but to play right before the headliner was kind of a shock to me. Still, I congratulate them on getting this far. I hope to understand what they’re all about some day.

Devildriver closed out the show. A friend who tagged along wanted to mosh during their set, so I obliged, not realizing that practically every misfit in Los Angeles County was on the floor area, waiting to intentionally hurt people. The mess started right as curtains raised, before a note of music was even played. I wish I knew more about these guys because they really brought it that night. Being in their mosh was painful, and a made me uneasy when I wasn’t breathing heavy in the middle of its harshest parts. I had a bit of claustrophobia when I was stuck in between people on the outer edges of the mosh pit. It only took two songs before I got my ass handed to me and retreated to the balcony area where it was safe. Despite not knowing any of their material, Devildriver did a perfect job to close out the Los Angeles stop of the show by pandering to the somewhat home-town crowd, and playing plenty of ear devastating jams for the misfits to kill each other to.

So, my time at Metal Alliance 2012 was well spent. I watched some awesome bands do their thing, moshed, had some beers, and didn’t once fold my arms in disapproval. I hope that the tour is doing well enough to continue into 2013, and beyond. I’m looking forward to see how dramatic of a change in lineup we have for next year. And now, pictures:

Impending Doom

3 Inches of Blood

Job For a Cowboy

Dying Fetus

The Faceless

Devildriver

 All photos by Internal Arts Photography.

“Fuck,” I said as I arrived to the venue. It was a sell out show, and the line may have literally been a quarter mile long. The wait made a majority of us miss Hour of Penance, unfortunately. I made my way inside The House of Blues as they were wrapping up, and people were leaving the pit area as I situated myself in the middle of it. A wave of nerves suddenly hit me. I was about to see my favorite band, and possibly get torn to shreds. I sized everyone up as best I could, making awkward eye contact with folks as I put on my best serial killer face. Before I knew it curtains rose, and Chance Garnette gave us the signature greeting where he introduces the band, the state they’re from, and encourages us to commit misdemeanors. From then on, Skeletonwitch was the soundtrack to me pummeling anyone within in 5 foot radius. Things got off to a quick start with “Erased and Forgotten,” and “Submit to the Suffering” being the first two songs of the entirely new set. I did my best to not get completely immersed in the mosh so I could observe what was happening on stage.

Skeletonwitch are a band whose energy is always reciprocated by the fans. I’ve never seen a lame ass crowd at one of their shows, due to them being excellent performers, and having a truly evil sound that I haven’t yet heard from another thrash band. There’s just an aura of pure bad ass that surrounds them. I think a lot of it has to do with vocalist Chance Garnette. He’s got the charisma of a young Charles Manson, and his growls are the voice of every imaginary monster I conjured up during my childhood. You can’t help but focus on him as he stalks the stage, and spits his hate at you ever so menacingly while the band is shredding your face off.

Skeletonwitch’s set was comprised of mostly new material, but dipped into the older records as they played songs such as “Beyond the Permafrost,” “Crushed Beyond Dust,” and the usual closer “Within My Blood.” I spent a majority of their set running over people, and getting knocked around but I was so goddamn happy to be a part of it. At the very end of their set, I took my Skeletonwitch bandana off and held it to the sky as I got props in the form of devil horns from Chance. Epic. Aren’t I glad to have spent 92 bucks on the Forever Abomination super collector’s bundle?

After Chance Garnette instructed us all to “eat some fucking pussy!!!,” I went outside to nurse my wounds for a bit. I came back into the pit to check out Nile for the very first time. The extent of my knowledge of these guys is that my best friend named her two cats after Metal bands, and one of them was Nile. That’s it. A shame, isn’t it? After I was forcefully thrown onto some unsuspecting concertgoers who were less than pleased by the antics of us miscreants, I left the pit area and spent a majority of their set observing from the bar with 11 dollar tall can in hand, and I was really pleased by what I heard. Every cliche that metal journalists (not calling myself a journalist, I swear!) use to describe a band’s sound are about to be used. Nile were:

Crushing.
Brutal.
Bone crunching.
Technical as fuck or TAF. (Hoping that catches on)
Sick.
Heavy.
KARL SANDERS IS GOD.
Literally so enjoyable your eyes explode, ears bleed, colon gets pulled through your belly button etc.

Basically, they’re everything I want a death metal band to sound like, and I’m upset that it took me this long to discover them. Nile played some tracks from their latest album, Those Whom the Gods Detest, as well as playing songs from past records, and their upcoming album At the Gates of Sethu. I ended up buying Those Whom the Gods Detest via iTunes later that night, and I’ve been jamming it non-stop since.

The Black Dahlia Murder came out to close the show, and holy shit what a job they did. I’ve never seen a band get as much pop in L.A. as The Black Dahlia Murder did on Thursday. This was my first time seeing them live, and I was pretty amazed at how clean, and tight they are. I suppose that comes with 10+ years of being a group, but everything sounded extremely clear. Trevor Strnad’s vocals were easy to follow, and Ryan Knight didn’t miss a note when soloing. I swear I’ve never heard precision on a guitar like that before. The crowd was going apeshit from the very start of the set, which began with “A Shrine to Madness,” till the very end of the show. One of my favorite moments of the night was when The Black Dahlia Murder played “On Stirring Seas of Salted Blood.” The pit looked extremely cool on the breakdown outro, everyone was participating in a violent back-and-forth sway that was mesmerizing to watch.

This show was a blast. I finally got the chance to mosh with Skeletonwitch, I was exposed to new (Nile) music, and I watched The Black Dahlia Murder give an incredible performance. Definitely worth all of the bruises I earned throughout the night. I just hoped that I didn’t gas myself out for the Metal Alliance 2012 show scheduled for the very next day. Yikes.

My life’s been full of uncertainty lately, and the only thing I’ve found solace in is getting lost in my iTunes playlist. However, nothing has quite done the trick like Pallbearer’s debut Sorrow and Extinction. I’d hate to pigeonhole them as a “depressing doom” band, but I’ve yet to find something to listen to that’s so fitting for the way I’ve been feeling. Plus, I tend to hold a lot of stock in the following Hank Jr. lyrics:

…And Lord I love that hurtin’ music, cause I am hurtin’ too.

I stood on the balcony at The Glasshouse waiting for Pallbearer to take the stage, watching people pour in. I didn’t feel like sharing this moment with strangers on the more intimate floor level. I didn’t know what kind of reaction I’d have to seeing them live, either. I’m usually pessimistic about seeing my favorite bands for the first time. Anything could just about ruin it for me. When Pallbearer finally took the stage, I was definitely shocked at what I was hearing. I didn’t feel like sulking through their entire set, in fact I felt the completely opposite of sad. Instead, I was just overwhelmed with excitement and head nodded my way through their three song set with a goon-like smile on my face because they were so heavy, so loud, so entertaining! I would even go so far as saying that seeing Pallbearer was rather uplifting. I got an immediate sense of closure when their three song set was up. I felt like I would be able to figure out a way to overcome all the bullshit that I’m dealing with. I guess that just proves how much I value music, and more importantly Pallbearer.

I skipped out on most of Wolvhammer’s onslaught because my ears were already fucked from Pallbearer’s set, and a collapsed lung wouldn’t be worth having. It was probably a bad choice to not wear ear plugs, but that gave me a chance to people watch outside. I noticed there weren’t many kids or crusties in attendance the way they are at the Scion AV shows put on in Hollywood. I guess they couldn’t properly route their train hopping to the outskirts of L.A. County. Attendees were mostly made up of the bearded, 21+ variety, which is unfortunate because the Glasshouse is an alcohol-free venue, and the bar attached to the venue opened at 7pm — this show ended at 6pm.

Loss was up next, but they were having serious technical difficulties that delayed their set by at least half an hour. The crowd was starting to get impatient just as everything was figured out. Loss was the shit! It was the first time I’d heard their music, and I was glad I caught them. They’ve got an atmospheric (sometimes bordering on ambient), proggy, but sloooow doom sound. What I didn’t capture during Pallbearer’s set, I certainly did during Loss’s. Their music manages to create this painfully depressing mood, and when you least expect it, they tone down the sad, and start rattling your brain with monster riffs. Loss were fucking great, but I couldn’t help noticing the horrible feedback coming from lead vocalist Mike Meacham’s guitar. It certainly wasn’t his fault, but it did make me cringe, momentarily causing me to feel a little detached from the music. When Loss wrapped up, I hit the merch table to chop it up with bassist John Anderson for a bit, scored myself a copy of the excellent Despond, and a patch of their logo!

That was pretty much it for me as far as being invested in the show. I missed The Atlas Moth because I was starving, and I made plans to see another friend’s band later in the evening. I did catch YOB for a bit, and I’m kinda kicking myself for leaving. I don’t know much about them, but their music sounded pretty spectacular as I was making my way out of The Glasshouse. I’ll be sure to check out their latest album Atma when I can. Hopefully they’ll play Los Angeles again soon. I want to thank Scion AV and Profound Lore Records for putting on a kick ass show. I can’t wait for the next label showcase.

Apparently a ton of people spent a lot time deciding whether or not to go to a metal show on a Wednesday night, or smoking a ton of high grade reefer, because there was hardly a soul in attendance when I walked in. Thankfully, the crowd started to arrive as the show progressed. It was a weird mix — plenty of long hairs, your casual tall-can swilling hipsters, and a load of frat-style douchebags who showed up just to be loud and talk throughout each band’s set. The venue itself was pretty rad. The bar and performance area are split, with only two pillars obstructing your view if you’d prefer to watch bands while you’re trickin’ on drinks for a broad. There’s also a big ass circle cut out on the dance floor that I assumed was the designated moshing area, but the only rowdy behavior that night happened on stage. Bummer.

I really like The Shrine. They’re a 2012 version of our mom’s and dad’s favorite bands, except tripping out on way more acid. It’s clear by whom they’ve been influenced, but they inject their own style of empty-pool-shredding skate rock that they’ve dubbed Psychedelic Violence. I can get behind that in this current state of retro-resurgence in rock. They’re actually adding something new and fun, and not just playing tunes from 40 years ago. I prefer seeing them live. They’re a lot more raw and intense than their records suggest. There’s none of that pesky production to get in the way of  what seems like a whirlwind of fuzzy bass lines, pounding drums, screeching guitar solos and howling vocals. Plus, you can tell they’re having a load of fun on stage as made evident by the constant goofy smile on the face of their bassist, Courtland. They didn’t waste any time between songs, and powered through their 25 minute or so set which consisted mostly of material from their Bless Off demo. I captured video of their opener, “Zipper Tripper.” Check it out here.

Holy Grail came on next to spread their Heavy Metal joy. A couple of songs in and I was already regretting leaving my ear plugs behind. Not because they were bad — they were great. They were just entirely too fucking loud for The Satellite. It didn’t help that James Luna is one of the best vocalists at hitting that really high note capable of making your ears bleed. My ears are still ringing. I’ve seen the Grail plenty of times over the last year, so I knew what to expect for a set list. It had been a while since I last saw them, though, so it was great to see the chemistry that Eli Santana and (relatively new) guitarist Alex Lee have formed since then. Their harmonizing was on point. I just hope that the next time I see them, they’ll start playing some new material. Also, it’s worth mentioning that this is the first time I’ve seen Holy Grail with a lame ass crowd. No moshing, and minimal head bangs were had. That’s not a knock on the band, either. The people in attendance were just at the wrong show.

Motherfuckin’ Saviours came up next to close the night out. Sadly, the shitty crowd was still shitty. Half were near the stage, the other half at the bar. I tried not to let that hinder my enjoyment, but I was looking forward to using “God’s End” as the soundtrack to a good ol’ Roadhouse style bar fight. Jokes (but not oxymoron) aside, Saviours killed. They didn’t dip into their past records too much, mostly playing tunes from the excellent Death’s Procession. They did play a song from Crucifire and a couple from Accelerated Living though. At one point James Luna hopped on stage with them to help out with the hook on”Crete’n” which I managed to capture. I gotta admit, it sounded bad ass with his vocals! Click here to watch.

I loved that they played in a more intimate venue because I feel like I’m a part of the music, not just an observer. Of course, this was an easy feeling to achieve when madman Scott Batiste is obliterating the drums, and bassist Carson Binks is using those magical digits to create bass grooves that vibrate your core similar to that of a few bong rips. Sprinkle some of the riffage and soloing that Austin and Sonny create on top of that, and you’re astronaut high …off the music, I mean. Strictly the music. Cough.

To see the rest of the videos I captured that night and more, click here.

The Shrine on Facebook

Holy Grail on Facebook & Twitter

Saviours on Facebook

There’s always some kind of lame indie shit going on at The Echo, so it was a bit of a surprise that a show like this would be booked. I’m glad, though, because I prefer the more intimate setting and The Echo is small, and divey enough for my liking. There were maybe 100 in attendance, mostly under 21 folks since it was an all-ages show. Patched up vests and Slayer shirts were the norm, as it always is in Los Angeles.

Exmortus came on first. I didn’t quite know what to expect, but they were decent. Pretty much non-distinguishable from the rest of the re-thrash bands from L.A. (Fueled by Fire, Bonded by Blood, Internal Corrosion etc.) That goes for Witchaven as well, and they came up after Exmortus. Although redundant, what those two bands manage to do is play sort of a death/black thrash while the maintain a playful and energetic vibe on stage. Vocals, and sociopolitical lyrics largely ignored by those in attendance because the pit was a brewin’ with young’n's trying to show and prove who the baddest pitter is. Is pitter a term? Anyway…

I love Vektor. I really only came to see them perform. Their two albums are probably the most technically sound thrash albums I’ve heard since thrash was in the public eye. And since I’m always impressed with what I hear on those records, I wanted to see if it translated well in a live setting.

Well, it did. Tight musically, and sharp vocally. These guys are the real deal. It’s cool to be able to catch them in small clubs, but I want them to get to a bigger stage at some point.

I know this isn’t much of a review. The show happened weeks ago, and I slacked off on writing this. I will make up for it by linking you to videos I captured during each band’s set. Enjoy.

Exmortus – Entombed with the Pharaohs

Witchaven – Faces of Death

Vektor – Cosmic Cortex

The Avalon is one of my favorite venues in Los Angeles. It’s decor is dark, and sort of goth. The sound system is top notch. There’s practically a good view from anywhere. There’s always beautiful people there for some reason. The bartenders are lovely, and smile at you when they fuck your wallet over for drinks, and so on. It’d be my first time seeing a metal band there, so I wondered if there would ever be another metal show booked after the miscreants in attendance tore the place apart. Naturally, thanks to the Friday afternoon traffic on the 101, I arrived late and missed Darkest Hour and a lot of Suicide Silence’s set. Still, I think I caught enough of Suicide Silence to be impressed with how far they’ve come. I’d seen them around town during their early years. From playing the small clubs, to the early sets in all-day festivals, and now packing hundreds into a theater in support of one of the biggest American heavy metal bands around. I think it has to do with them gradually removing themselves from the oft-redundant deathcore sound, and writing songs in a more straight-forward death metal style. I’m looking forward to see how much Suicide Silence will progress in the coming years.

What can I even say about Machine Head? They gave one of the best performances I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen few bands as precise, as energetic, as charismatic as Machine Head. The crowd was all in from start to finish, head banging their way through 17 years worth of songs. From Burn My Eyes, to Unto the Locust, Machine Head probably played a few songs from every album… minus those that were created during the nu-metal era. Part of me wishes I paid more attention to the setlist instead of moshing, but it was too fun to not jump in. I spent a majority of the set getting tossed around, and doused with beer before I had finally received the clothesline from hell. Once I decided I couldn’t take any more elbows to the throat, I pulled out my flip cam to capture a pretty special moment. Rob Flynn told the crowd an awesome story about the late Dimebag Darrell that had folks in stitches. Eventually, this led to a ‘Dimebag’ chant before the band jumped into “Aesthetics of Hate.”

Watch that video here: Machine Head – Dimebag Darrell story + Aesthetics of Hate

As the night progressed, so did the rowdiness. The pinnacle of the pit was during “Halo.” Flynn’s chants of “Headbang, motherfuckers” between verses worsened the violence.

Footage of this mess can be seen here: Machine Head – Halo

That was the closer for me. I walked away as one more song was being played, sort of in shock to what I had just witnessed. I caught up with some pals just outside the floor area to talk to them about how epic it all was. The show finally ended when people started pouring out into the lobby, and out the front doors to where fancily dressed people were waiting in line to start clubbing. I got this sense of pride as I walked past all these “normal” people who were staring at all the long hairs, and black shirts that were oozing out of the venue. I felt like no matter how much fun they’d end up having, they all missed out on the best event that The Avalon would see that night.

* – there is no actual proof neo-nazi skinheads are fans of nu-metal, but it’s the closest thing to rap that they could openly enjoy.

I stood across the street as I waited for my date to arrive, watching the scalpers do business with those who didn’t capitalize on paying 20 dollars for tickets months in advance. I felt bad for the ones who looked so eager to negotiate, only to realize they couldn’t afford the 150+ that was being asked per ticket. This also made me feel as if I needed to protect those tickets with my life after I picked them up from will call. Once inside, we got drinks and had to wade through the ridiculous amount of people in the venue. I’d never been at The Roxy for a sold out show, and something tells me there were a lot of people inside that didn’t even purchase a ticket. There wasn’t much room, but I managed to find a tight little spot towards the front of the stage as Ancient VVisdom was getting ready to come on.

I really liked A Godlike Inferno. It’s clean production and catchy hooks make for an enjoyable listen. I didn’t know how well that would translate into a live setting though. Luckily, it didn’t take long for me to come to a decision — It was silly. I just didn’t know what I was expecting. They played my favorite tunes from the new album, but the songs failed to grab my attention the way they did on the album. Some of the magic is gone when you see that the lead singer acting as the percussionist, and the lead guitarist is trying to do his best EVH impression to songs that don’t require you to rock out so hard. Add a set time that ran too long, and me being low on beer, and I was already over it. Still, congratulations to them for all the exposure they got on this tour. I hope they sold a lot of records on the road.

After my beer refill, Canada’s Blood Ceremony was up next. I mention Canada, because I’m going to say nice things about this band, and only nice things and I thought it was worth mentioning that I was being nice to something Canadian. Okay, ready? BLOOD CEREMONY FUCKING ROCKED. If you don’t know anything about them, let me break it down real quick: They’re like Jethro Tull, but Metal and with a hot (or “weird hot” as my date put it) lead singer who plays not only the flute, but the organ. Got it? I can’t say enough good things about these guys. They really exceeded my (and probably everyone elses) expectations. Alia O’Brien was an enchantress that night, complete with crazy eyes and one of those coats that have those thingies hanging off of the sleeves that the Indians (or Natives if you’re considerate) wore. Her voice was exceptional, and she performed with so much charisma that she had practically everyone in attendance going nuts by the end of the set. It helped that the band was exceptionally tight, especially the stoney, doomed out riffage by guitarist Sean Kennedy. I swear, if Ghost weren’t the headliners, I feel as if I would have gotten my money’s worth just by watching them. Check out this video shot by the fine folks at Concert Confessions: Blood Ceremony @ The Roxy.

And then it was time for Ghost.

I don’t even know if I can do them justice. It was magic. It was everything I wanted it to be and more. It was packed when Blood Ceremony was playing, but a ton more people cramped The Roxy when Ghost was coming on. I didn’t care that it was starting to become unbearably warm. Sweat only makes for a better story right? Right. The place erupted when the curtains rose, and the “Masked Ball” chant started. Never have I been around such crowd intensity for a band, and at a place so intimate. The opening notes of “Con Clavi Con Dio” only riled up the crowd more. What was already a rowdy bunch pre-opener became such an enthusiastic one. Pushing, shoving, jumping, dancing, singing, moving etc. It was a sight to see. Papa Emeritus and his masked Druids put on quite a stage show. It’s almost eerie to witness. At times it felt as if they were really under his control, playing music as he commanded. Almost as if he’s a conductor of sorts. The were moments where there would be a lull in the vocals, and he’d slowly work his way towards one of his druids and motion with his hands as to create this illusion. It was really cool to see him walk over to the guitar druid during the guitar solo in “Satan Prayer” and do this exact thing. Check out the video of Ghost playing “Satan Prayer” here: Ghost – Satan Prayer @ The Roxy

Ghost have a great, melodic sound to their music but at The Roxy, I found them to be slightly heavier than they are on record which was a nice surprise, considering most of the audience was comprised mostly of more-kvlt-and-br00tal-than-thou dudes. The rowdiness was pretty much a constant through their set, with maybe the only exception to this being when Ghost played The Beatles cover, “Here Comes the Sun.” Did I mention camera phones? That was the other constant. It was damn near impossible to get a shot of them without a phone or fist/devil horns in the way. I suppose that’s what happens when you mix awesome music with theatrics that are just as good. There was never a dull moment during their set, and everyone in attendance will tell you the same. Even Papa Emeritus mentioned that we were having a great show, told us that it was a magical night right before the band closed the show out with “Ritual.”

So that was Ghost. I, and a few hundred more were a part of history. It was a perfect show that backed up all the hype. We were all there to witness the first time Ghost played Los Angeles, and the last time we’d ever see them in such an intimate setting. They’re going to open for Mastodon and Opeth this Spring, and L.A.’s date is the 3500+ seat Gibson Amphitheater. It’ll certainly be an incredible time for anyone that missed out, but us lucky ones that were at The Roxy will be bragging about for years about the time we were a mere few feet from Papa Emeritus and his Druids. I still can’t get over it, and the videos on Youtube only allow me to relive it every time I watch them.

Keep your “no cred” comments to yourselves, heathens. Not every show can be as tr00 or as kvlt as the ones you all attend. On Sunday, I was invited to see this super Deathcore show at Club Nokia featuring the likes of TDWP, Whitechapel, Enter Shikari and some band that I missed, and I was more than happy to be in attendance. Who knows what kind of disaster I’d miss if I don’t attend shows?

Enter Shikari was already near the end of their set when I made my way into the venue. I somehow got Masakari and Enter Shikari mixed up when I told my friend, “Enter Shikari is pretty cool!” on the drive over. Once inside, the mix of dubstep and deathcore coming from the stage was completely atrocious. It was Enter Shikari. They were sucking. “I thought you said they were good!” Clearly, I had some explaining to do. “Uh, yeah, totally different band from the one I mentioned earlier. That one is actually good. These guys are trash.” I had the unpopular opinion. Enter Shikari had plenty of supporters in attendance, including the only guy in there that appeared to be older than me (more on that to come), who was shouting their lyrics at the top of his lungs, carrying a poster of the band… Okaaaay.

Once that bullshit was over, I had an opportunity to grab a few brews and scope the crowd while Whitechapel was setting up. The mix of Carnifex, STYG, IWABO etc. tees let me know what kind of crowd was in attendance — children. Also, there were several parents running around keeping their kids in check. It made me feel old for a second, but then I realized I was the only person there enjoying alcohol legally, so fuck it. I did feel bad for the bartender I talked to, though. He complained about the lack of tips, which didn’t get him any sympathy from me. One dollar per serving is all he got. Anyway!

Whitechapel took the stage while the young moshers were doing leg stretches before jumping into their arm swinging, roundhouse kicking retard pits. I don’t mind Whitechapel. In fact, I don’t really have anything negative to say about them except that all their songs sounded the same. I gotta give it up to their vocalist. Though completely unable to understand, he was fun to watch, kinda like Bannon, Davy, and Perry etc. At one point in their set, I got lost in an imaginary place that resembled the outerworld in Mortal Kombat, while DIO’s “Fever Dreams” played on a constant loop, but I was snapped out of it when Chino Moreno came out to perform guest vocals on the song “Reprogrammed to Hate.” That was definitely a moment that would have been appreciated by an older audience because these kids had no idea who the fuck he was. =( Whitechapel wrapped up just as soon as I finished my final beer of the night. Ultimate sad face.

We were told the balcony was open to everyone, so my sassy companions (yes, plural) and I wandered up there to see The Devil Wears Prada while the young’ns got all sweaty on ground level. What can I say about them except that they aren’t my thing? From what I know, these guys are massive and they had the stage setup to prove it. Never have I seen a band at Club Nokia with such an elaborate distraction from the music they played. Picture below:

You can see ramps and elevated platforms in that shit. I suppose a sexy visual helps when all your music sounds the same. I don’t remember much about their set except for coming to terms with their suckage, the lead singer claiming to love Jesus Christ and me damn near falling over a bunch of 14 year olds when I lost my footing and bruised the fuck out of my knee. Thanks to good company, though, I managed to have a fun time at the show and Whitechapel weren’t bad. Plus, I got a nice buzz from the overpriced beer that converted me from a Negative Nancy to a Chatty Clarence.

Malmsteen’s always been kind of a joke amongst myself and a group of friends. So much of a joke, that we all started to give each other Malmsteen related gifts for birthdays and holidays for the better part of a couple of years. It all started when one of us came across the Arpeggios from Fake video in the early days of Youtube. That was a hoot. Then we caught wind of the Tokyo flight audio and the dubbed John Petrucci live setup videos (They’ve been removed from youtube, sadly) and we forgot that the guy even played music. Eventually, we gave in and listened to the tunes and agreed that it was as entertaining as the Malmsteen persona. Plus, we had just discovered Michael Angelo Batio’s antics and he became the new guitar virtuoso to laugh at.

So last week Malmsteen was in town, and I decided to attend the show because I feared that he’d some day hop into one of those Ferrari’s he’s always bragging about and kill himself on the freeway before I could watch his antics in person. I got there as they finished up soundcheck, not really knowing if there was an opening act or not. If there was, I’m sure it was a waste of everyone’s time because when Malmsteen finally took the stage, it was the most incredible display of amazingness I’d ever seen. That’s clearly an exaggeration, but, come on. It was Yngwie Fucking Malmsteen in person. Still dressed as if it were 1987. Weird, ruffled unbuttoned silk shirt that only Prince could wear proudly, gold chains, watches and rings and the tightest leather pants a 48 year old man could possibly get away with wearing.

Once things got into full swing, I noticed that Malmsteen commanded practically all of the stage, and his bandmates were pretty much relegated to their respective sections. Basically – “Hey guys, don’t go past the third cab. That’s my area.” Clearly, Malmsteen the person and Malmsteen the performer are the same egotistical, narcissistic dickheads and his swag is undeniable. Since I hadn’t seen him live before, the only thing I could compare this performance to are his live videos on Youtube, and I swear it’s like he hasn’t lost a step. Maybe he’s put on a few pounds, and his high kicks aren’t so high anymore, but he’s still got it. He spent the entire night running around on stage, throwing his guitar in the air, playing it with his teeth, playing it behind his head, tossing out literally 20 guitar picks a song after every “oh shit” moment etc. I was entranced by it all. It got to the point where I had to remind myself Tim “Ripper” Owens was singing his ass off in his own little corner of the stage. He didn’t dare head stage left! See it for yourself. I whipped out my iPhone 4s and captured 11 minutes of the set in which they performed “Dreaming” and Dio’s “Gates of Babylon.” The real fun begins 6 minutes into the video.

Watch here

Watching Yngwie Malmsteen was quite an experience. The crowd was into it, the music was loud as fuck, and Malmsteen himself was exciting to watch. He was everything I used to laugh at and at the same time the baddest motherfucker on the planet. Even if you’re not into the cheesy, over top top melodic power metal type stuff, you have to see this man play. Take a broad with you. She’ll totally grab your crotch at the end of the show.*

*there is no guarantee that the opposite sex will give you a crotch grabbing at the end of the show.