|
Bullet For My Valentine Concert Review
When the first experience of the evening is an androgynous security guard who likes to play guitar with metal detectors saying, “Hey, you’re an attractive dude” while he/she frisks you, chances are things will take a turn for the abnormal.
And while no further gender-bending shock-rock incidents took place (though I did come across a Marilyn Manson shirt or two), Bullet For My Valentine’s show at the House of Blues was still no run-of-the-mill show.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t a photo pass waiting for me at the box office along with my entry pass, but better that than the other way around, I suppose, so upstairs I went at about 6:00, half an hour before the opening band was to kick things off.
The House of Blues, at least, the one in the Windy City, is a truly impressive venue. I was reminded of the theater from ‘Blues Brothers 2000’, minus the plaster statues, for those of you who had the time to waste six years ago and know what I’m talking about. Small, intimate, capacity of 810 with wrap around theater box seats above the floor level, two bars along the side walls, and a lowered standing area before the stage, which was crested by a pantheon of religious symbols. Apropos, considering the peculiar line-up of the night.
After a brief quest after the merch tables in hopes of catching up with Cellador before their set (I failed, but did meet a very friendly pair of middle-aged fellows working their booth as a favor to the band), I went back to the stage area to get a good spot in the standing area.
The house DJ must have been a little bewildered by the night’s line-up, since his soundtrack included everything from Metallica to Carcass to Rage to Unearth to Rob Zombie. Put Cellador with Bullet For My Valentine and I suppose one cannot expect much else. The audience did not seem to mind, though, and I could even hear some sing along with ‘Nothing Else Matters’.
Escape the Fate were slotted to open the show, but they dropped off last minute and were replaced by a local band, handpicked by Bullet For My Valentine and conveniently named Escape From Earth.
They play a moderately standard style of pop/punk with only a bit heavier tuning than usual, tossing in a few metal moments and a lot of power chord choruses. Their set was filled with the exuberant energy of youth, coordinating jump moves and running up and down the stage. Their most favored pastime, though, appears to be tossing their picks and drumsticks up into the air, timing their tosses so that their catches occur a beat or two before their instrument’s next cue. While these showy maneuvers are appreciated, it would probably be best for them (particularly the drummer) to get the tricks down cold before attempting it live, especially at a venue such as the House of Blues, as their timing sometimes was pulled off a bit by a botched catch. The crowd was lukewarm, but fairly appreciative regardless, and after half an hour Escape From Earth bowed out, praising Bullet For My Valentine for the umpteenth time and reminding us to stick around for Cellador, up next.
The crowd thinned a bit, taking drink and merch breaks, but a surprising number stuck around, though I now think it more likely they were willing to weather Cellador for Bullet instead of the other way around. During this layover, I had some time to scope out the audience. They were, while almost all under the age of 25, a fairly diverse group. Band shirts ranged from the expected Trivium and Avenged Sevenfold to Children of Bodom and even an old school At The Gates T from their ‘With Fear I Kiss the Buring Darkness’ days.
Another half-hour exactly and HOB’s efficient tech staff had Cellador ready to go, and after a brief ambient intro the curtains opened and the band launched into their set with great gusto, looking for all the world like wide-eyed kids trying out the moves and tricks of their idols. They do not play like kids, though, or like a band whose debut album came out but a month ago, and most of all not like a band that has had an established line-up for less than one year. Vocalist Michael Gremio gestured to the crowd, pumping his fist and clapping, filling the large shoes of a power metal front-man very well, both with showmanship and actual talent, though the flare and talent of flanking guitarists Bill Hudson and Chris Petersen could have carried the band just as easily. Some energetic fists were pumped and heads were nodded towards the front row during their set, but a number of the crowd seemed rather sullen. Cellador played on, though, displaying truly impressive ability that would do their European predecessors proud, and Michael Gremio, while not the most powerful of vocalists, really hit his spots and ranged well without hesitation, especially seeming to favor the high note fading in after a solo.
A few songs into their set, a small clique of fans started making a stir, flicking off the band now and again, and after each song calling out, ‘You suck!’ or, ‘Get off the stage!’ At first, the band seemed only a little perturbed, playing on valiantly, but as it progressed and the harassment grew louder, Cellador reacted. First, Michael returned the finger. Of course, the chins of the hecklers began to jut, their brows lowered, and their chests puffed up, and they called out and booed audibly, prompting guitarist Bill Hudson to dedicate another angry gesture in their direction after a particularly furious solo. Some crowd members laughed and applauded; others were less than pleased.
Once or twice during their set a guitar came unplugged, but each member was quick to fix the problem and play on without disturbing his bandmates, and despite David’s blastbeats (which I had been interested to see if he could pull off live) and double kick being a bit hesitant towards the beginning, the pressure to perform warmed each member up quickly, and by their finale they were fully engaged and playing well. The heckling seemed to provide them with a focus, and rather than deflate them it fueled their efforts, smoothing out the kinks in their set. After a final farewell and thanks to the fans, Michael pointed and called out, ‘And to you motherfuckers in the middle…see you outside.”
Despite the adversity, a decent sized group made the trip back to their merch table after the set and waited long enough to greet the band when they arrived half an hour later. I spoke briefly with lead guitarist Chris Petersen about the band, Omaha’s local scene, and the band’s quick rise to relative fame. He was an unassuming guy who didn’t seem as though the limelight had quite hit him yet, just having a good time and smiling through the bother. As I suspected, Omaha isn’t the U.S’s hotspot for power metal, but this recent tour has helped put both on the map a bit more, drawing some of the other American groups from the new generation out of the woodwork. Chris said that touring with Bullet For My Valentine hadn’t gotten them the most positive crowd response, but that the exposure was worth it. A brave man, he.
Another half an hour and Bullet For My Valentine was ready to go. By this point, the standing area was packed full, the crowd overflowing into the bar area. When the first chord was strummed during sound check, it elicited and audible stir from the crowd, and the beginning of their intro track an eager cheer. The band came out one by one before the lights came up, each to a roar of applause that peaked with lead-man Matt Tucker. With their massive banner for ‘The Poison’ behind them, they launched right into their excellently produced and technically tight set. The crowd was a sea of upraised horns, and within a minute of the first song, despite the house warnings before the set, there were people surfing above the rest, waving their arms and screaming along.
Bullet For My Valentine have built a very solid fan base within the fringe metal crowd, bringing in fans from the relatively opposed scenes of emo scene those who would look more at home at an ICP show. With their affinity for breakdowns (which are indeed fairly original and not too preoccupied with being heavy), omnipresent harmonized leads, and not infrequent bursts of pop/rock melody they’ve reached a wide cross-section of fans. Matt Tucker possesses a growl of good strength, though he uses it sparingly, more often favoring the half-shout half-scream of bands like Shadows Fall and Unearth, from which Bullet For My Valentine seem to have taken great inspiration. Their style, in fact, is not all that far removed from traditional heavy metal, or even hard rock. As an introduction to their set, Tucker asked, “are you ready for some fuckin’ rock and roll music tonight!”, which seemed a strange thing to say to a crowd of metal fans, but as they played on I saw that it was true. Their style embraces the rock formula, the rush of the live performance, and even the glamorous token solos now and again. No surprise that they opened for Guns ‘n’ Roses, really.
Bullet For My (Fucking) Valentine, as Tucker calls them, do not move much on stage, preferring to stick to their microphones and stances, and in between songs they would often break for water and a breather. A smaller band with this attitude might have lost the audience entirely, but that night’s crowd was so enthused that it hardly mattered; they roared in response to everything the band put forth—song, comment, or otherwise. Tucker says ‘Circle Pit!’, they obliged, and during the ballad of the set, complete with starry lights on the backdrop, out came the lighters, waving back and forth in utter sincerity.
Strangely, though, Bullet For My Valentine also suffered some harassment, despite their headlining spot. Twice I saw cups tossed at the stage, the second reaching as far as the backdrop, missing drummer’s Michael Thomas’s head by mere feet. The group was not deterred and responded well to the rest of the crowd. After a forty-five minute set they left briefly before returning for a two song encore, at last extending their thanks and appreciation to the audience and left us with a fading outro track as the lights came up.
The early end of the concert (not to mention the stop/go traffic returning home) left me with plenty of time to think. After the buzz of live music faded from my ears, I thought not on the performance, but the blatant hostility of some of the fans. I hope you will pardon my preaching, but some things need to be said.
Heavy Metal, though on the upswing, is not yet a famous enough genre for bands of every style to get the shows they want, when they want, and with the line-up they want. There will be many times where entirely dissimilar bands will be on the same bill.
Understandably, not everyone in the audience is going to like all the bands all the time, and that is entirely within their rights. It is not, however, within anyone’s right to attack and demean a performer without provocation. This does not mean we have to enjoy their efforts, or even really appreciate it, but we must respect it. Metal, for all its differences, cannot survive without the support of its close cousins.
While watching some of the discontents in the audience toss pieces of debris up at the stage during both Cellador’s and Bullet For My Valentine’s set, I was reminded of stories from this year’s Ozzfest, when Iron Maiden weathered a barrage of eggs and remained professional throughout, playing to their fans, for their fans, not retaliating and refusing to point fingers after the incident. That high road is an admirable one, but now and then it takes a bold move like Cellador’s to remind us that musicians are more than a night’s entertainment. We are a generation who feel as if all is owed to us, and we must remember that these people are not doing us a favor; they are not obligated to come out and play, to put their livelihoods at risk to be musicians and tour the country. They deserve as much respect as anyone else in the room.
One must strike a balance, though, between turning the other cheek and taking a stand, and I believe Cellador’s Bill Hudson put it best when he said after the show in response to the harassment, “We take it ‘till we can’t.”
|
|
|
