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Faceless, The Concert Review
On January the 15th, my first show of the new year at the Pearl Room was co-headlined by Enslaved, Norway’s masters of Viking lore. And, as of last Friday night, they also performed at the last, this time as full headliners with touring support from Arsis, The Faceless, and The Agonist.
As it happened, that January day also marked the first major snow cycle of the 2006-2007 winter, which until that point had been quite timid. Ten months later, it is only appropriate that Enslaved would once again deliver the first token of winter: a single clump of snow on a curb in a parking lot. It seemed unbelievable— no snowfall had been announced, and just days before and after we had 60 degree weather—but it was undeniably the real thing.
Of course, this put me in quite fitting spirits for the rest of the day, and by the time I got to the venue at around 6:45 I was thoroughly prepared for the entertainment ahead. Having arrived a little early, I had enough time to catch up with James Malone of Arsis at his merch booth and still get a front and center spot for the show. The stage was a cluttered landscape of amps, drum kits, and divers other gadgets all set up in varying spots, with no drum riser or clear way to distinguish one band’s set-up from the next. Once the show began, though, the bands and tech crew seemed to understand it all, and there were no major hold-ups to speak of.
Opening the night was the local four-piece Rosenguard, who took the stage at around 7:00 for a half-hour set of hybrid black, heavy, and self-billed “progressive” metal. The band’s image trends heavily towards the black/gothic side of the equation, as do a few of their songs, but for the most part they’re rooted in traditional metal—chugging power chord progressions, clean vocals, melodic leads, etc. The band’s self-financed record debut has an additional layer of keyboards, but these only showed up as a brief intro in their live set. Even without them, though, the band has done a commendable job keeping its songwriting lively and diverse and builds upon the highlighting foundation of Nenad Lazic’s bass-work.
Nick Rogers, who handled their vocal duties, didn’t look especially comfortable during the clean vocal segments and was shaking his head at himself whenever he missed a note. This happened not too infrequently, but it wasn’t often enough to turn away the burgeoning audience, who seemed quite appreciative of the band and their style. Their best song of the evening was ‘Night Of The Long Knives’, which Nick dedicated to the black metal fans in the audience. For it, he brought out a guitar for himself and supplied the tremolo rhythm guitar with much more aplomb than he had his singing parts. His screams didn’t seem to give him any trouble, either, and he belted those out well enough with guitar in hand, leaving off on a high note for the evening and receiving respectable applause.
Next on the bill was The Agonist, a group from Canada, with whom I was entirely unfamiliar, so as they set up I looked for any hints as to what we could expect from them. The instrumentalists looked fairly standard for metal, as did their set-up, but I didn’t see any likely vocalist candidates, who typically are a good indicator of what a band is goin to sound like. Only when they began to play did I realize that this absence in itself should have been a hint—nearly all female-fronted bands play their ‘trump card’ at the last possible second, and The Agonist are no exception. To her credit, though, their vocalist Alissa White-Gluz has the potential to outshine many of her peers in the scene with a strong stage presence and confident combination of low, powerful growls and a clean singing voice.
Any other questions I may have had regarding their style were immediately answered as the band opened up with a lumbering breakdown, replete with axe chops and slow, stomping headbangs. Luckily, though, The Agonist have a good grasp of dynamics, and mixed up their metalcore influences with enough straightforward material to keep their set interesting.
They also benefited from an impressively strong dynamic, especially so for such a new group. Under this present name, they have been together less than a year, and are all still quite young, but already have a full-length under their belts as well as a major contract with Century Media. After seeing their live show, it’s hardly a surprise; with their energy, modern style, and sharp stage performance, they’re they kind of group that most metal labels would love to have the early hold on.
The main issue that surfaced during their set returns back to Alissa. While her harsh vocals were consistently strong, her higher register singing did sound rather strained as she tried to compete with the guitars, which became even more apparent as the set wore on. As for the rest of the band, they performed quite well, though not with quite the same visual pizzazz as Alissa. Their most energetic member was the bassist, Chris Kells, who also supplied some backing harsh vocals. During the breakdowns, he would swing his bass around wildly, and dashed about the stage with such abandon that on more than one occasion I thought he was going to collide with someone or fall off the stage. Fortunately, he did not, and the rest of their set passed fairly quickly without incident. The crowd were supportive, if not terribly enthused, and gave a decent round of applause when they departed around 8:20.
This left stage primed for Arsis, the first band of the night I had come to see. They had been booked on Summer Slaughter, which had rolled through just a few months before, but the band’s van had broken down in California a couple weeks before the Chicago stop, leaving them unable to perform for the rest of the tour. This time around there were no such issues, luckily, and Arsis played with more than enough energy to make up for their missed time.
When the members first emerged to set up their gear, some fanatics towards the front shouted at them by name. James looked a little embarrassed to be receiving that kind of attention, but the bassist, Noah, took well to it and chatted with the front row as he sound-checked his bass, even asking them with a smile whether they thought the volume was too low. Another cheer was raised for the set-up of Darren’s kit, a monstrous thing bristling with cymbals and with bass kicks emblazoned with Arsis’s characteristically macabre artwork. Of all the build-up to their set, though, what most impressed me was Darren putting on his mike headset. To utilize a kit as large as his and keep up with Arsis is one thing—to sing along as you do, that’s something entirely different.
And he did not disappoint, nor did any other of these fresh faces. Of all the night’s performances, Enslaved included, Arsis had the most forceful, unified stage presence, and they absolutely blazed through their 35 minute set. From the opening sweep of ‘The Face of My Innocence’, the band members were changed: James was no longer playful, Noah was no longer smiling—every member was a pure channel for the bitterness and passion that all Arsis songs possess.
Leading the way, of course, was James Malone. Performing lead vocals and guitars, he faces a tall order to fill, but I never saw him fall behind. He laid out all his taps, sweeps, and bending leads with precision and alacrity, and although his live vocals are a little more breathy than on record, they maintain all his ferocity. When he had a free moment with one hand (not often at all), he would throw up the horns to the audience, as is his custom, and then return just in time for another ripping lead.
Following him note-for-note was Ryan Knight, also of The Knife Trade, who proved himself to be James’ equal in performance, trading off solos and following in lock-step on the harmonies. On the other side of the stage, Noah was whirling dervish of curled locks and his lime green bass, spinning about, engaging the crowd, and liberally ranging over and under the fretboard. Lastly, Darren on the drums was living up to his hype with a tremendous performance on all fronts, from his blistering double kicks to his growling vocals, used either to support James or even as a brief lead on in a couple situations.
The set-list included a significantly helping of old songs, with ‘The Sadistic Motives Behind Bereavement Letters’ immediately following their opener and others like ‘Maddening Disdain’ popping up as well. Their set also included the title track from their forthcoming album, ‘We Are The Nightmare’, which sounds as sharp and uptempo as anything they’ve written to date.
In 35 minutes there isn’t too much time to spare, and James acknowledged as much, saying his thanks briefly and getting straight back to the music. The crowd thoroughly appreciated this, and at each suggestion of a mosh or circle pit were more than happy to comply. In fact, Arsis’s death metal had the pit more active than any of the breakdowns from either The Agonist they followed or The Faceless they preceded.
Unfortunately, 35 minutes can pass rather quickly, and after their concise take of ‘A Diamond For Disease’ as their closer, Arsis left the stage. The crowd were once again greatly appreciative, calling out individuals names and clasping hands with Noah as he made his way across the front row. Despite the limited time, they had put on a headliner’s show, and I’m already looking forward to the next time they come through town next March.
Following them was The Faceless, a relatively new export from California’s vibrant tech/death/core scene. With six members, they have enough sheer volume of output to grab any audience’s attention, and once combined with their impressive technical chops, they are not a group to be taken lightly, despite having only one record to their name. Like many of the support bands on this bill, The Faceless have been touring extensively for quite a while now, so it wasn’t long ago that I had last seen them with Necrophagist. Their set then had been full of energy and professionalism and was a pleasure to watch; on this night, though, that professionalism would be needed for entirely different reasons.
At the beginning, all appeared to be going well. One of the band members tacked a picture of some grinning toddler with coke bottle glasses to an amp, which remained there for the duration of the set and was subject to much speculation. It turned out to be Noah, of Arsis, and was given to a girl in the front row who couldn’t have been more elated to receive it. Noah, of course, was embarrassed to see it when he was on stage at the layover, but was a very good sport and even signed an autograph across his 4-year old forehead upon request.
Soon, the members of the audience who had come specifically for them filtered towards the front, and the customary cheer went up when the banner was unfurled. It was an impressive one, far larger than what I had expected, boasting their new logo that is best described by one of the front row’s members: “Dude, that’s a brutal-ass fuckin’ logo.” After a bit of fiddling with their drum triggers (and much loitering done by their fresh-faced teenage running crew), they opened their set with all the furious force I remembered. Sporting an ‘Anti-Christian’ Agoraphobic Nosebleed shirt and some ragged loafers, lead vocalist Derek Rydquist was as solid as ever, ranging low and high with his growls and throwing his arm out wide during longer notes. The guitarists Michael Keene and Steve Jones showed off their range as well, from the syncopated breakdowns to speeding arpeggios, all executed with ease.
For The Faceless, all this is to be expected. Their drummer, however, was new to me and apparently hasn’t been with the band for all that long, as I can’t find his name or any previous engagements. Still, he performed well and seemed to fit in with the rest of the band well. On occasion, his double kick would falter, but at other times it was impeccable, and he certainly finished well during one song’s jazzy interlude full of syncopation towards the second half of the set, as well as a particularly strong performance on the new song they played. (Which, by the way, is as yet untitled. When asked what it’s name was, Michael said that it really didn’t have a name, and that when announcing it Derek would just growl something indecipherable.)
However, not everyone was pleased to see them, and after a couple songs someone towards the back started complaining rather loudly, and at one point even threw an empty can of Corona on stage. The band took it well at first and didn’t retaliate or acknowledge him beyond Derek picking up the can and saying, “Corona in a can—haven’t seen that before.” However, as the set continued a couple members, Steve in particular, seemed to get a little frosty with the audience and weren’t as engaged as they had been to start. Not that I can blame, them, really.
Events came to a head during their closer, ‘An Autopsy’, which one of their more straightforward songs with a catchy harmonic progression and plenty of keyboard flourishes from Michael Sherer. Also one of their best songs, it seemed to be getting the crowd back into the swing of things until the very end. Off to the left, a blonde, bearded man in the second row looked up at Brandon, the bassist, and very deliberately spat upon him, more than once. Brandon first reactions were of surprise, rather than anger, so the man in the audience also turned and spat on Michael, who had a similar reaction. Both of them finished the song, very much to their credit, and many in the audience didn’t notice anything had happened at all. Once the song was through, though, the man continued to spit at Brandon, who finally got fed up and confronted him. The other man departed, heading towards the door, but Brandon got off the stage and followed him. I’m not sure what more happened, as they were out of my line of sight, but it seemed as though the offender was kicked out, with Brandon hot on his heels.
Disrespect that blatant and unchecked was shameful to see, and the The Pearl Room’s staff really ought to be quicker to react in the future. For all the talk of metal being a community, even a brotherhood, there is a disgraceful amount of animosity between genres, and disparaging a band simply for the music they play is not going to solve any conflicts whatsoever. The Faceless are a talented group, no matter one’s personal preferences, and their quick rise to success is a real testament to their abilities and dedication. I can only hope that their next stop in Chicago shows them how respectful and appreciative a scene this can be.
And so we entered the layover before Enslaved one audience member short, though I don’t think anyone regretted the absence; besides, the venue had filled up respectably by this time, with fans lined up towards the stairs in back and with plenty more mingling around the bar and merch area. The following 20 minutes or so passed quickly, while the house speakers played a queer mixture of lounge jazz (xylophone solos and all) and Aeon’s brutal new record, ‘Rise to Dominate’.
At around 10:40, the lights slowly began to dim. At first, it was imperceptible, but after a minute or two most of the audience had caught on, and when the stagehand flashed his light, we all raised the horns and sent up a cheer. Within moments they obliged, arriving as two pairs (Cato and Herbrand, Bjorn and Ice Dale) with Grutle charging on as the last, shaking his bracer-clad arms with horns raised while he audience whisteled, whistling, cheered, growled, and maked all kinds of awful sounds. After a moment’s more to survey us all, the band kicked off a set as admirable as any the Pearl Room has seen all year.
At the outset, it was very similar to their January show: ‘Path to Vanir’ leading straight into ‘Fusion of Sense and Earth’, ‘Bounded by Allegiance’, and ‘Violet Dawning’. This was far from a problem, though, since those kinds of songs are best suited to the live atmosphere, and the flow from one to the other was completely natural. After these early songs the band paused long enough for Grutle to address the crowd and for us to give them another chorus of cheers when he asked, “Are you ready for some more Norwegian metal?”
For this first portion of the set the members had mostly remained in their respective positions, but during the later songs they were a bit more free-ranging, Ice Dale in particular. Shirtless as usual, he struck many a rock-star pose with his guitar pushed out in front of him, and both he and Grutle would step onto the amps in front of the stage to get right up on top of the front row of fans. Handling both bass and vocals, Grutle was an excellent front-man and would subtly guide the energy of the crowd as he sang. Although his vocals remained fairly consistent throughout, his facial expressions would reflect the chaos, force, or melancholy of the lyrics he sang.
On rhythm guitars, Ivar was a little less showy, generally standing in place, banging his head, and providing some fierce low growls as necessary. If he did move around, it was usually back to Cato and Herbrand, whose drum kit and keyboards were off-set at the back of the stage. He would move from one to the other and then stand in between them for a time, almost as if he were watching over the foundation of each song while Grutle and Ice Dale showed off for the crowd.
Of course, Cato and Herbrand themselves were outstanding and hardly needed any looking after. Cato’s live performance is as impeccable and nuanced as it is on record, and he also ranged back very well to handle material from Enslaved’s early days with Trym. Herbrand, the group’s newest member, was the jack-of-all-trades for the set and gracefully laid the final layers over each composition on a variety of instruments. He primarily was on the keyboards, which were most heavily used during the new songs, and later took up an extra guitar during ‘Ruun’ and even a pair of drumsticks to add some cymbals flourishes during the encore. Finally, he performed most of the clean vocals, sometimes harmonizing with Grutle, and otherwise kept the crowd’s energy up with plenty of horn salutes from the back of the stage.
All in all, they were consummate professionals and found the perfect balance between focus and entertainment. And despite how charged their first songs had been, they actually seemed to pick up energy as they went along—‘Isa’, ‘As Fire Swept Clean the Earth’, ‘Return to Yggdrasil’, ‘Ruun’, and, as their token old track, ‘Jotunblod’. Grutle introduced this one as, “from the ‘Frost’ album”, a phrase he seems to utter at every show, and also as one that had never been played in Chicago before. Although Enslaved obviously have a bias towards the material they are writing now, they still look fiercely passionate about their old work, and all the old songs they played actually sounded much better than they do on record.
Most of these came during the encore, which followed a solid 50 minute first set. Enslaved took the stage a second time after the shortest of breaks, showing a little bit more of their lighter side with some cheers to the crowd (Grutle and Ivar both had beers open the entire set) and a couple steps of a Russian jig from Grutle. For this encore, they delivered outstanding renditions of two tracks from their nearly 15 year-old split with Emperor, ‘Slaget I Skogen Bortenfor’ and ‘Allfadr Odinn’. With the full compliment of instruments and lush live sound, both tracks easily surpassed the recorded versions in all respects, from the groovy intro to ‘Allfadr Odinn’ and its descending riff motive to the black metal bluster of ‘Slaget…’.
Although this only made for a two song encore, the tracks combined made up more than twenty minutes, and not a single audience member left the venue in disappointment. Enslaved had charmed us, despite the incongruity of their opening acts and despite being the harbingers of cold weather once again. If that is indeed the case, and if getting Enslaved to play the States and snowfall go hand in hand, I’d trade in half my summer for a blizzard every day.
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