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Withered Concert Review
I either just don’t get out enough to know Chicago’s weather patterns or the Metal Gods are watching me. It seems as though every time I head out to a show it begins to rain. I suppose this is good for atmosphere, but it makes commuting a real bother at times.
Not that I really mind. How often does one get the opportunity to see a show like this one? Vital Remains are at the peak of their career (though greater heights may still be ahead) and both Grave and Dismember, two of the greatest Swedish death acts of all time, are enjoying a remarkable and deserved resurgence in popularity while divers opening acts Demiricous, Withered, and Gorgasm fill out the bill quite nicely.
The Abbey was another first time venue for me. It’s a rowdy, smoky, booze-filled lounge of a place with a small stage, no photo pit, and almost no backstage to speak of. A perfect place for a local metal show, undoubtedly, but perhaps a bit of a strain for a show of this size. Not that this show was all that large, though. The venue could fit maybe 500 maximum and although by the time I arrived at 7:40 there was a line at the door, The Abbey never quite filled up, even for the headliners.
The show was slated to start at 9, but with six bands performing the management wisely decided to push up the schedule, so I only had a few minutes to try and touch base with Tony Lazaro (Vital Remains) and Ola Lindgren (Grave) about interviews before the show began. They were both sitting at their respective merch table, Tony with a few fans and a striking young female associate with a bevy of tattoos (whom, I expect, received numerous tips throughout the night) but I was surprised to see how sparsely attended the Grave table was. A few ‘window shoppers’ moved past looking at merch, but even fewer stopped to say hello or shake hands with this legendary group. A damn shame, really. A band together for nearly twenty years comes all the way from Sweden to play to a few hundred fans and all most of us do is look at their T-shirts (if at all) and say, “Fifteen dollars? Ehh…I don’t know…” But that is a conversation for another time.
At about 8:20 Chicago act Gorgasm (not the French one, they’re Gorod now) got things under way. The band has been churning out gore-oriented technical death for a while now, but only since 2001 have actually gotten albums released. I must say, even though the market is saturated with the style, Gorgasm put on an interesting show. They reminded me of a less solo-oriented and gorier Necrophagist, dealing with the same anatomical perversity at an even faster tempo. Their dirty, ragged appearance (frazzled hair, worn instruments) really fit well with their grungy performance style, and their 20 minute set passed too quickly. Perhaps more quickly than it would have had I not been truly captivated by the strange spasms and jittering squints of their lead guitarist/vocalist Damian "Tom" Leski. A strange man. It was a bit of a surprise to find that they are apparently unsigned now—a small, enterprising label would do well to snatch them up, they deserve it.
Withered was next, with whom I was at the time completely unfamiliar. I vaguely associated them with deathcore group Withered Earth and therefore assumed they would be equally mediocre. But, once their casket shaped guitar cases emerged and the most metal-looking bassist I have seen in quite some time came onto the stage and unveiled his old school axe (see Gauntlet Photos section), my interest was piqued. Turns out Withered are a really gritty semi-sludge, semi-death group out of Atlanta, Georgia. I was still a little dubious as they went through a sound check, hollering ‘hey!’ into the microphone in a strained grunt and continually asking the vocals to be turned down, but once they began their wall of noise assault all the loose threads came together. I don’t believe the crowd was completely prepared for this sort of show, so they were not as enthusiastic as they might have been, but I know I certainly enjoyed it. I want to call their riff style droning, but that makes it seem slow when it really was not slow at all. They would blast away at a single riff, a single chord even, for quite some time, building up this climactic noise, and then shift the momentum to a bluesy, meandering lead or the paired vocals of Chris Freeman and Mike Thompson hoarsely growling away beneath the tumultuous surface. They played for about half an hour or so before bowing out to Grave, Dismember, and Vital Remains, who would be “phenomenal”, Mike “promised”. I didn’t doubt them, and now count myself among their fans.
While nu-thrashers Demiricous set up and Bolt Thrower’s ‘Entrenched’ played over the loudspeakers for the umpteenth time, I checked back in with Tony about the interview. He seemed a little preoccupied and suggested that we find Dave Suzuki to see whether he’d like to do the interview instead, so we trotted on downstairs (‘Bands Only!’ sign be damned). ‘Downstairs’ turned out to be a rather barren place with a massive stack of chairs in one corner and a smattering of cheap tables throughout the rest of the room. A few idlers sat around, either band members I didn’t recognize or part of a crew. I wasn’t paying much attention to them, honestly; I was more focused on the guitar laying across one a chair at the bottom of the stairs: Dave Suzuki’s customized black and red flying V. A beauty to behold so close and in ‘person’.
No time to ogle, though, since at about that time Tony flipped up a couple chairs, set them down, and said, ‘Alright, let’s do this’. This was a most pleasant surprise—though I respect Dave Suzuki greatly and would have surely enjoyed interviewing him, Tony Lazaro is the original core of Vital Remains and one of most interesting characters in American metal today. I was a little nervous, to be honest, since I’d never done an interview before, and the broken chair I was sitting on was essentially three-legged. Tony was a truly engaging, forthcoming, and talkative guy, though, and everything went wonderfully. We talked for nearly forty minutes, both on and off the record, about religion, Rhode Island in 1989, and the pressure to conform, both in society and music. In fact, we went so long that I missed the entirety of Demiricous’s set, but honestly, I can pull up their Myspace any time—it’s a rare chance that one can sit down with a great guitarist (and, as I discovered, a great guy) and have that involved a discussion. My thanks to him.
After the interview I went topside again and moved up towards the stage to see Grave. The crowd was packing in a little more tightly, now, and I was pretty well surrounded on all sides by the time the band came out, Ola still with a cigarette in hand. They are only touring as a trio for these two weeks stateside, so I was doubtful about how fully they could fill out that trademark rough ‘n’ tumble tuning that rattles the teeth and turns innards to mush. Once they started, though, I was persuaded that they could have gone up there with no instruments at all and still somehow managed to produce a crushing slab of true death metal. These are veterans, tried and true, and their experience and skill shows.
The press photos of Ola make him look a monster, so his actually rather lean physique came as a surprise, but there was nothing small about his roaring vocals, delivered with a sneer and an icy blue glare. The band blasted through a number of standards— ‘You’ll Never See’ (which was perfection), ‘Now and Forever’, ‘Soulless’—as well as new material like ‘Rise’ and ‘Burn’, all rather simple on paper but absolutely devastating live.
Before their set a roadie had carried two handfuls of beers onto the stage, and between songs the band would take a swig, at one point even clinking glasses with a particularly enthusiastic audience member. It was also interesting to see how low-key and mellow Ola was when not performing. He would introduce each song rather nonchalantly, eyes half-closed, and made an offhand comment about some of their songs being older than some of us in the audience (which is no doubt true). Lazy or no, before their final song, “Into the Grave”, you could tell from the tone of his voice when he said, “This was the first Grave song ever written…” that he is far from bored with what he does. Indeed, few bands today can write such simple, effective music with both passion and honesty, and after the final track, they made a point to grasp hands with the clamor of stalwart fans who had stirred up quite a pit and ‘sung’ along to some of the better known cuts. Great performers.
By this time, the show was woefully behind schedule. The original plan had been for the show to start at 8:00, and the schedule at the door still showed those original times, although they had been blacked out with marker. The addition of Gorgasm to the show (who were not mentioned on the bill) may have disrupted the flow, but their set was a worthy one, so I don’t think there will be many complaints. Not from me, at least.
After a rather prolonged layover and a glitch with the intro music (the sound technician could be heard to say, “Sorry fella’s, this CD isn’t reading…”), Vital Remains were prepared. The CD turned out to be the stirring melody of ‘O, Fortuna’ (aka, ‘Let The Killing Begin’), as perfect an intro as a band could ask for. They certainly made the most of it, standing still with backs turned and horns raised, awash with the red backlight. The capstone of that intro track on ‘Dechristianize’ is Glen Benton and his unholy declamation, “Let The Killing Begin”, but it was not Glen who growled out those words that night. (Side note: Vital Remains’s line-up for live shows has more session members than actual ones, since they really only consist of Dave Suzuki (lead, bass, drums) and Tony Lazaro (rhythm). Their recruitment efforts are really quite impressive, though; Italian drummer Antonio Donadeo and bassist Ron Greene served as very adept stand-ins.
But it was the man who filled Glen Benton’s shoes, the man who declared, “Let The Killing Begin” who stole the show. His name is Anthony Geremia, and he is truly amazing to watch. A shaven-head, spiked braces, and muscle-bound physique put him right at home with the strange leather garments of Suzuki and Lazaro, and for their first track ‘Dechristianize’, he strode back and forth across the stage confidently, really asserting himself with a powerful voice. After that track, the bracers came off and we saw his real abilities as a frontman when he literally leapt into the audience. Surrounded by a swarming mass, he carried on the set, not missing a single beat. He eventually climbed back on the stage, but returned to the crowd a time or to, and during one instrumental break even put down the mike and charged through the pit, crashing this way and that. When on stage, he would run from side to side, swinging his arms, banging his head, grasping hands, and thrusting the mike into the shrieking faces of the front rows.
Now, while I have never seen Glen Benton in action, I sincerely doubt that he, or nearly anyone else, could match the boundless energy of Geremia. He was a perfect frontman that night—powerful and accurate with his vocals, and even more importantly, truly connected to the crowd. People were upended, almost crawling over each other to reach the front of the stage, and during ‘Devoured Elysium’ Geremia even grabbed onto someone’s leg and hauled them bodily onto the stage with one arm while he screamed, “One by one…to meet your bastard maker,” as if he himself were dragging us down into hell.
Of course, Suzuki and Lazaro themselves were a good show as well. Their rhythms are some of the tightest and quickest I’ve seen live, and even though the beautiful solos Suzuki laid down on ‘Dechristianize’ were buried in the mix, the spirit and ability were clearly there. Suzuki’s shrieks were also quite impressive, unleashed even as he shred through the most difficult of riffs. Lazaro wielded his Crucifire well (glowing 666 and all), somehow managing to make the LED that garnished his instrument seem appropriate for the setting, however absurd it seems in retrospect. I suppose the talent of the band and the overwhelming stage presence really could make just about anything work.
The crowd would no doubt agree. They were, as Geremia said, ‘the sickest crowd of this entire fuckin’ tour’, and I am inclined to believe him. Even after nearly 40 minutes of relentless thrashing, they demanded more, (“Twenty more!”). The strict time schedule would not allow an encore, though, and Vital Remains ended with a cut from ‘Into Cold Darkness’, leaving the crowd drained, satisfied, and incredibly sweaty.
It was past midnight by now, and I had an 8 AM class to think about, but I couldn’t leave before checking in with Grave again about the interview. They hadn’t had any way to learn about it beforehand (lacking email/cell phones on this tour), so were completely unprepared when I told them earlier in the evening, but The Gauntlet and I got lucky when Ola took some time to talk to me during the layover before Dismember.
After seeing how fierce he could be on stage where the crowd was screaming along and the music at his back, it was a strange shift to be sitting a foot away while he answered my questions quietly, the glare from his eyes gone and replaced with a sleepy, considering gaze. Our interview was short and to-the-point and I got the impression that he really is a no-nonsense sort of guy, very much a reserved Scandinavian despite the harsh demeanor of his music. My thanks for his time and patience go out to him as well.
Once we had finished, I honestly thought about leaving. It seemed completely inappropriate to abandon Dismember with nothing to show, though, and they were just about to get under way, so I decided to stay for a few tracks. Good thing that I did, as they really were not at all what I had expected. After witnessing Grave and knowing how musically similar Dismember were, (indeed, I sometimes imagine them to be the exact same band, just masquerading under different names for a lark) I imagined the two would have a rather similar stage presence as well.
And they did—in part. Longtime members Matti Kärki and David Blomqvist certainly fit the part, the former in a loose dark t-shirt with long unbound hair and a quasi-Fu Manchu, the latter weathered and sporting a five o’clock shadow. Some of the others, though, looked more like an Iron Maiden teenage cover band than a legendary Swedish death crew. They were really just skinny kids rocking out, having fun, coordinating their moves, and so on. I later learned they were the newest members, in the band for no more than a few years, which would explain things. Still a bit strange to see, though.
New members or not, they put on a good show. It’s interesting how a stage show can so dramatically shift the impact of a band’s music; I still think Grave and Dismember are rather similar groups, but the way Dismember approached the audience was in a communal, ‘let’s have some fun’ way, whereas Grave was far more gloomy. Matti even said before the show, “Time to play,” and by the time I left it seemed as though he could have meant it in either sense of the word—actually perform or just have fun. They opened with ‘Override of the Overture’, the best track they could have chosen. I admit I don’t know their catalogue well enough to name every song, but I did catch ‘Shadow of the Mutilated’, ‘Casket Garden’ (which had half of the audience yelling the chorus), and a few others, mostly from their older days. And even though the crowd seemed a little exhausted after Vital Remains (who honestly could have headlined the show), they were still eager and having fun, a great portion of them staying through till the end, regardless of delays.
Watching them live, I really gained an appreciation for their groove factor. They can bust out a dirty solo here and there and blast away with the best of them, but Dismember’s finest moments come during their ‘Swedish Shuffles’. These are the moments towards the end of the song where another band would stash a breakdown, solo, repeat a chorus, etc. Dismember instead shift from the rumbling chords that drive their sound and lay out some really catchy hooks that somehow fit perfectly within their harsh buzz, and this is where the exuberance of their newest members really worked in tandem.
As excellent as this all was, I had to depart. It was already 1:20 AM, Dismember had just started, and I had to leave the house again in less than 6 hours. I saluted the band, breathed in a final waft of booze, smoke, and sweat and went on my way. It was, of course, raining again, but the glow of the city made the walk back to the car easy and as pleasant as could be, even though I felt a bit guilty for abandoning such a show. I reasoned, though, that I did have more than 400 pictures and two interviews, (eventually including the fastest commute home in my living memory), so it all went over quite well.
And, really, leaving early just gives me an excuse to see Dismember when they come through again. As if I needed one.
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