LIVE REVIEW: THE EYEHATEGOD WEEKEND, PART 1

Eyehategod
When: Saturday, June 19, 2010
Where: Empty Bottle, Chicago
With: Nachtmystium, Plague Bringer, Strong Intention, Weekend Nachos

Observe: side B of Black Flag's My War. Greg Ginn let his riffs get a second-hand high, Henry Rollins became even more thirsty and miserable, Bill Stevenson had no idea what he was getting into and Dale Nixon was just following orders. The murk of basement shows past had seeped into their sound, now too dark to be re-imagined by noodling hipsters in the Dirty Projectors two decades later. On the cover, Hitler was laughing, with his pearly whites by Marlboro Lights, as he was about to stab you. The process of weeding out began upon the record's release in 1984 -- while some punks desperately wanted things to be at 45 RPM, some hardcore kids took a lot of direction from these three jams.

Eyehategod were one of those bands. Jimmy Bower has the Black Flag bars tattooed sandwiched in between the words "My War." That should say volumes about what the side B to that record did for metal.

The New Orleans legends' first night of a two-evening stand at the Empty Bottle began a week of shows from bands who have paid their dues to the that eternal B-side. Those reviews will be coming soon, but now I'm focusing on Eyehategod.

Let's get to the madness, shall we?

Weekend Nachos were given the daunting task of warming up the boozing and smoking (outside the venue, per Chicago law) crowd. The band were in fine form, but the show-goers hadn't quite warmed up yet. Vocalist John Snyder, all too connected with the inertia of the patrons, threw a hardshell bass case into the crowd. He succeeded in getting some stares, and to me, it was a Friday "Daaaaaaaammmn" momemnt, but overall there were still only a few pit warriors. The man of the half-hour, though, was guitarist Andy Nelson and his seven-string/Sunn combo. Huge tones are his thing, and were they ever huge on "Bleed!" Our man The WZA'd said that song is more Goatsnake than powerviolence, and live, this is especially true. Weekend Nachos still have an adrenaline fix to attain, as showcased by "Shot in the Head." To conclude, I'm looking forward to their record release show.

Next up were Baltimore's Strong Intention. Last time I saw the group was when they played with Anal Cunt (who were supposed to play this show, but canceled) and The Gates of Slumber in Austin a couple Novembers ago. An odd lineup, I realize. Safe to say, not much has changed with the band in the time passed. Straight-forward, no filler grindcore was the order of the night. Not a huge variety between songs, but their wall-to-wall blasts didn't disappoint. Grindcore is often best at its purest. The crowd remained a little still at this point, but more people seemed to seep in for Strong Intention than Weekend Nachos.

While the night belonged to Eyehategod, Plague Bringer were the best of the opening bands. Clad in cult movie t-shirts -- guitarist/programmer Greg Ratajczak with Jackie Treehorn's sketch from The Big Lebowski and vocalist Greg Rosenthal representing Blue Velvet -- the duo churned out a set of hate-fueled drum machine insanity. This abrasive industrial metal was once the calling card of Chicago/El Paso institution Ministry, and while I might be boasting, Plague Bringer are more than carrying that torch. Rosenthal shreds his throat with every word he screams, matching the "DON'T YOU FUCKING LOOK AT ME" quote from his shirt. Ratajczak shifts between classic chug-chugg riffing to grindy interpretations of Unsane noise rock fluidly. Whatever module he's using for the drums locks in with the band: they have that mechanized pounding that gives off a fitting dystopian future vibe. For the last song, "One into Par," Mark Solotroff of Bloodyminded and Anatomy of Habit (who Ratajczak also plays guitar in) got on stage to contribute vocals and electronics. He acted as a doubler to their sound, nothing I can complain about. Plague Bringer may only have two members, but they have the intensity of bands twice or even three times their size. (As a side note, I later asked Rosenthal if they had both planned to wear shirts from cult movies. He said no. We chatted about David Lynch for a little bit before I left. Rad dude.)

In the last episode of the Crustcast, our pundits railed quite a bit against Nachtmystium, or more accurately, on Blake Judd, since he IS Nachtmystium. I have to admit, too, that I don't have an entirely favorable view of the band. While I was a huge fan of Instict: Decay, the songwriting quality of later albums seems to be more "LOOK HOW DIVERSE MY TASTES ARE, GUYS" rather than carefully integrating those tastes into good songs. A lot of supposedly "open-minded" writers and fans like to give Es for Effort though, calling new the Nachtmystium album groundbreaking like it was '70s Miles Davis. In addition, some of Judd's recent interviews tend to convey "I'm too cool for metal" despite that his fan base is pretty much metalheads. And whatever happened to Judd's Pink Floyd obsession? Before I begin to rant further, I will say that although I did not derive joy from Nachtmystium's set, it was a packed house and a lot of people seemed did enjoy them. Having been unable to secure a live synth player, Nachtmystium focused on the fast songs. "Hellish Overdose," "High on Hate" and opener "Your True Enemy" got many horns up in the air. Bassist Andrew Markuszewski, also of Lord Mantis, broke a string in the middle of the set, but it didn't seem to slow the band down. The only track pre-Assassins performed was "A Seed for Suffering," and most of the more ambient sections of that song were cut out. I could understand why they did so. Since the set was pretty much all fast songs, it would make sense to keep the pace fairly consistent. It would have been nice of "Keep 'em Open" was in the set list too, but in all, they were just the only thing between me and a NOLA-style beatdown.

Once Nachtmystium got off, I rushed to the front so I could get some prime real estate for Eyehategod. Being up front was uncomfortable in the best way possible. The quintet played the entirety of their debut full-length, In the Name of Suffering, and I felt all the grooves. HARD. Bower, with his guitar proudly stating he's a RCA -- Registered CoonAss -- and Brian Patton churned out riff after tar-drenched riff. Eyehategod have been through a lot -- drug addiction, jail time, Hurricane Katrina -- and all those negative vibes made the guitars even more sweltering. Throughout the night, I loved life and wanted to leave this world at the same time, that is how much of an emotional headrush the music and raging in the front put me through. The power of the guitars themselves seemed to push against the crowd, and the crowd pushed back, resulting in a gloriously agonizing sense of intimacy. Williams, whose two Cranberry Vodkas onstage were most likely not all he drank, was rather surly throughout the performance. He had humorous quips here and there, but he seemed pissed and drunk. A woman next to me asked him to turn up his vocals, and he responded by saying that she shouldn't be so close to the monitors. Granted, his vocals were a little low, but I was soaking in the riffs too intensely to care. When the amps were turned off, I knew I was going to hate myself in the morning. It was worth it.

One of the heaviest nights of my life. And thank Side B of My War for it. Look out for the Sunday night show review coming soon.