Holy fucking shit, Batman. Two shows at two clubs, eight
bands preaching the heavy rock gospel, a farewell show, a CD release, and a
band that hasn't played together in six months? Let's do this....
Buried In Leather, besides having the best name for anything ever, also have the white Joe Cocker on vocals, and if you don't know what i mean then you spend entirely too much time watching Judge Judy. They kicked things off in grand fashion at the Midway in Jamaica Plain, basically sounding like Motorhead and the Ramones fighting over the last beer at some kid's 21st birthday. Keith Pierce is the ringleader, fully clad in leather and exhorting the crowd to get their shit together, because this ain't no picnic.
Mob Hit are up next and they throw down some metallic hardcore, NOT metalcore, and if you don't know the difference then there's no hope for ya, bub. Doug from Gozu fills in on 2nd guitar and does an admirable job kicking asses and taking no names.
Once Superpower's bass player shows up, walking in the door and plugging right in, the shit is on. Dave River Tree Conley Esq. does his thing, and Terry, yeah, Terry who used to play in anarcho-crust legends Disrupt and Ny-Quil doom heroes Grief, puts on a workshop of how to play guitar THE RIGHT WAY. This was their CD release show for their new disc "Phantom of the Alliance", which I picked up but have not had the chance to listen to yet, although I'm sure it kills in all the right places. If you haven't seen or heard Superpower yet, think of DRI and Municipal Waste and you're halfway there, as Jon Bon would say.
Then Destruct-a-thon are next, saying their goodbyes and farewells, after fighting the good fight for a good many years. Duncan's eyes pop out of his head and roll around on the floor a couple of times, and Michele Morgan plays guitar like she was born with it in her hands. Two other axe slingers, Patti and Ed, provide some sonic back-up, and Eric and Sean hold down the fort on drums and bass so Duncan can crowd surf and kiss the ceiling fans. Don't try this at home, these people are certified motherfuckers and we're gonna miss 'em. Farewell, Destruct-a-thon, we hardly knew ye.
OK, now it's time to head across town to O'Brien's in lovely Allston where Cortez and some other miscreants are gonna rape my earholes and treat me like the piece of garbage I am. I think I have some issues I need to work out. Anyway....
Completely missed Blue Aside, my apologies, I was too busy partaking in extracurricular activities at D-Thon's rehearsal space and got lost in some sort of beer/space time vortex.
This was my first time seeing Birch Hill Dam and I don't really have anything to say other than Jeezus Harold Christ, that's a goddamn rock band right there. These dudes don't just play riffs, they excavate them from riff mines deep in the heart of riff country. If you dig Unida, Pepper Keenan-fronted Corrosion of Conformity, and good rock music played really well by musicians who mean it, then you'll dig these guys. I mean, fucking B.C. Rich? Obviously they're not fucking around.
Nobody told Resurrection Sorrow that they weren't playing Madison Square Garden, but that's just as well, as they crammed an arena's worth of rock into the confines of O'Brien's. The singer brought to mind Danzig, although much taller and he kept his shirt on. Just full-on hard rock, nothin' fancy, but if you wash down your steak with Black Label then this is the band for you.
Finally, 143 beers later, Cortez takes the stage with their newest vocalist and shows everyone in attendance why they've already been to Europe and also played the Stoner Hands of Doom festival. It's because THEY FUCKING ROCK AND THEY WILL KILL YOU IF YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON THEM.
Alright then, that's it for me. Cheers to all the bands for a mammoth day of rock played with passion and heart. It's an ugly job but somebody's gotta do it.
Buried In Leather, besides having the best name for anything ever, also have the white Joe Cocker on vocals, and if you don't know what i mean then you spend entirely too much time watching Judge Judy. They kicked things off in grand fashion at the Midway in Jamaica Plain, basically sounding like Motorhead and the Ramones fighting over the last beer at some kid's 21st birthday. Keith Pierce is the ringleader, fully clad in leather and exhorting the crowd to get their shit together, because this ain't no picnic.
Mob Hit are up next and they throw down some metallic hardcore, NOT metalcore, and if you don't know the difference then there's no hope for ya, bub. Doug from Gozu fills in on 2nd guitar and does an admirable job kicking asses and taking no names.
Once Superpower's bass player shows up, walking in the door and plugging right in, the shit is on. Dave River Tree Conley Esq. does his thing, and Terry, yeah, Terry who used to play in anarcho-crust legends Disrupt and Ny-Quil doom heroes Grief, puts on a workshop of how to play guitar THE RIGHT WAY. This was their CD release show for their new disc "Phantom of the Alliance", which I picked up but have not had the chance to listen to yet, although I'm sure it kills in all the right places. If you haven't seen or heard Superpower yet, think of DRI and Municipal Waste and you're halfway there, as Jon Bon would say.
Then Destruct-a-thon are next, saying their goodbyes and farewells, after fighting the good fight for a good many years. Duncan's eyes pop out of his head and roll around on the floor a couple of times, and Michele Morgan plays guitar like she was born with it in her hands. Two other axe slingers, Patti and Ed, provide some sonic back-up, and Eric and Sean hold down the fort on drums and bass so Duncan can crowd surf and kiss the ceiling fans. Don't try this at home, these people are certified motherfuckers and we're gonna miss 'em. Farewell, Destruct-a-thon, we hardly knew ye.
OK, now it's time to head across town to O'Brien's in lovely Allston where Cortez and some other miscreants are gonna rape my earholes and treat me like the piece of garbage I am. I think I have some issues I need to work out. Anyway....
Completely missed Blue Aside, my apologies, I was too busy partaking in extracurricular activities at D-Thon's rehearsal space and got lost in some sort of beer/space time vortex.
This was my first time seeing Birch Hill Dam and I don't really have anything to say other than Jeezus Harold Christ, that's a goddamn rock band right there. These dudes don't just play riffs, they excavate them from riff mines deep in the heart of riff country. If you dig Unida, Pepper Keenan-fronted Corrosion of Conformity, and good rock music played really well by musicians who mean it, then you'll dig these guys. I mean, fucking B.C. Rich? Obviously they're not fucking around.
Nobody told Resurrection Sorrow that they weren't playing Madison Square Garden, but that's just as well, as they crammed an arena's worth of rock into the confines of O'Brien's. The singer brought to mind Danzig, although much taller and he kept his shirt on. Just full-on hard rock, nothin' fancy, but if you wash down your steak with Black Label then this is the band for you.
Finally, 143 beers later, Cortez takes the stage with their newest vocalist and shows everyone in attendance why they've already been to Europe and also played the Stoner Hands of Doom festival. It's because THEY FUCKING ROCK AND THEY WILL KILL YOU IF YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON THEM.
Alright then, that's it for me. Cheers to all the bands for a mammoth day of rock played with passion and heart. It's an ugly job but somebody's gotta do it.
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