It was a cold, rainy night in February. I was waiting, coatless, outside an Academy. And yet I WASN’T seeing Lamb of God. Say what?
Instead, The Black Procession tour, which has been weaving its way up and down the country for the last week or so, comprising some big, fat, no-nonsense metal for all to partake of. Well, alright then, I suppose I’ll give it a go.
First on the bill, Glaswegian deathcore crew Man Must Die, the replacement band for All Shall Perish who had unfortunately pulled out of the tour some time ago. They were worth turning up early for, despite their repeated insistence on demanding a ‘circle pit’ which, in a Scottish accent, just made me think of Lorraine Kelly trying to organise a knitting club on GMTV. The pit that stuttered into existence was quite appropriate then, featuring about three 15-year-olds tripping over each other and a big bald bloke who eventually cleared the space for a spot of Greco-roman wrestling. I shit you not. From a musical standpoint, closing track ‘Kill It, Skin It, Wear It’ is quite catchy really and I think these chaps are more than capable of holding their own at this level.
Next up were Bleeding Through. The crowd had swelled by this point and they definitely created some atmosphere. Those of you who know me, or have ever read my blog, know that I’m really only comfortable with a metal band when they’re good and hairy. In fact, my enjoyment of a band is probably directly correlated with their relative hairiness. Your hairs are your aerials, after all. It came as no surprise, then, that I really didn’t connect with this band, as they seemed to be suffering from a nasty strain of collective baldness, well, aside from keyboard player Maria Peterson, allegedly one of the hottest (read: only) women in metal, yet clearly not really essential to the musical proceedings, other than to lend some impressive round-the-clock headbanging with the only hair on the stage.
To be fair to Bleeding Through, they certainly got people going, but I found the music generic and they did little to impress me in all honesty.
Hatebreed on the other hand, are severely follicly challenged, but they seem to be the exception that proves the rule (whatever that actually means). They whip the crowd up a notch immediately, everyone shouting along with their catchy brand of metallic hardcore (I refuse to call it metalcore as I don’t think it actually IS, really). They tear through songs from a variety of albums, have some good banter with the crowd despite verging on overly cheesy Americanisms at times (‘who has more heart than you? No-one!’) and are thoroughly entertaining, particularly as I can’t shake the feeling of lead singer Jamey Jasta reminding me of Fred Durst, which lends things a slight comedy over-tone, for me at least.
It’s clear from Machine Head’s soundcheck that the warnings I’ve had from previous attendees on this tour are going to be borne out here tonight too – it’s going to be LOUD. Thankfully I’ve brought along some earplugs and they are rammed into my ears by the time the headline act take the stage, yet it still sounds like a regular gig to me – I think this means, it’s LOUD. My vibrating sternum was testament to this, in the absence of aching eardrums.
As promised, the band give us a sort of ‘greatest hits’ set, inasmuch as they pick highlights from each of their six studio albums, as well as debuting old tracks – ‘Spine’ from The More Things Change gets its first airing EVER in the UK, and ‘Blood For Blood’ from Burn My Eyes its first in 8 years. This pleases me as I’m an old-school Machine Head fan, and hearing six tracks in total from across their first two albums is pretty good going. Also, they are three-quarters hairy, which makes me feel at home again. Highlights for me include ‘Old’ and ‘Bulldozer’ as well as the rare tracks, and of course the crushing crescendo of final song ‘Davidian’, which never fails to grab every metal fan in the room by the throat and squeeze.
Gig over, I was smugly aware that I was probably the only person in the place that had retained some form of hearing. For my first gig since the Lamb of God tour, it was a good one. It kicked the crusty Wrath-infested cobwebs away and reminded me that life goes on – there are many more gigs to be had, many more bands to bang my head to. Although I have to say it did feel strange not hearing ‘Richmond motherfucking Virginia’ at the beginning or ‘last chance to dance’ at the end (Robb Flynn almost said it… but not quite). I did sort of feel like I was being unfaithful. But Lamb of God can rest easy. I may have been with Machine Head… but I was thinking of them the whole time.
