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Suicide Silence Concert Review
With the resuscitation of Carcass, the metal revival of the past few years has scored arguably its biggest victory yet. Of the revived legends Immortal, Emperor, Atheist, and Pestilence, the UK group led by Jeff Walker (vocals/bass) and Bill Steer (vocals/guitar) is technically the oldest to reform, having first come together in 1985. Their ‘Exhumed to Consume II Tour’ currently crosses the US for a couple weeks of shows before the band returns to England to mull over a possible follow-up to ‘Swansong’, 13 years later. Support along the way comes from a variety of acts: Psycroptic, Samael, Suicide Silence, Abigail Williams, The Black Dahlia Murder, and others. Arsis had been on the bill, but pulled out near its outset.
The Chicagoland show took place on the Ides of March in Mokena, IL, at The Pearl Room. Due to some scheduling and communication issues, I arrived long after Psycroptic had played and just in time to see the last thirty seconds of Samael, much to my chagrin. From what I gathered, they had impressed the audience with their distinctive blend of industrial, black metal, and Euro-Goth fashion, which I unfortunately didn’t get to experience firsthand.
After they left the stage, some of the audience milled back towards the bar while others stayed in place to wait for the next act. Meanwhile, I took some time to canvass the venue, which, with a capacity around 2,500, is one of the larger in Chicagoland focused on heavy metal. A crooked lower floor plan places equal emphasis on the stage and a walk-around bar (only one of a few), while the upstairs combines the feeling of a loft, wrap-around balcony, and catwalk, depending on where you stand. On most nights the upper area is cordoned off, but tonight it was open and reaching capacity.
In fact, only a few shows I’ve seen at The Pearl Room were better attended than Carcass’s, so it took some time to make the rounds and find my way to the merch tables. There, I found Psycroptic’s guitarist, Joe Haley, and caught up with him for our interview. With no other band members in sight, we had a half-hour wait before he would be relieved, so I headed back to the photo pit to catch the next act.
Taking the stage after Samael was Suicide Silence, one of California’s hottest deathcore acts, who have been touring in support of their debut ‘The Cleansing’ since its release in ‘06. Led by vocalist Mitch Lucker, who proselytizes to the audience his lyrics of misanthropy and murder from atop black-painted crates, the rest of the band stares dead-eyed at the audience, when they acknowledge them at all. Most of the time, they are all headbanging along to each huge breakdown.
From up close, this makes for quite a spectacle. The sheer force of their drop-tuned guitars, the intrusive crack of Alex Lopez’s high-pitched snare, and Mitch’s sweeping limbs were enough to keep my attention and camera poised. Watching the last of their set from the back of the audience, however, leaves a distinctly different impression. Mitch’s vulture flap—where his arms arc out to the side and his torso bobs during a breakdown—looks distinctly less photogenic from far away, and the odd disconnect between his intense emoting and the rest of the band’s detachment was disconcerting.
Given the significant pull of Suicide Silence and The Black Dahlia Murder—as well as the fact that both were formed in the decade after Carcass disbanded—I worried that the crowd would thin out before Carcass even took the stage. But when Mitch of exhorted us to raise our fists and, “Break somebody,” during their next breakdown, the healthy number of middle fingers he got in reply were enough to show where the audience’s real allegiance lay.
Still, a good percentage of the crowd was younger, sporting flat-brimmed caps and Monroe piercings, and the moshpit had plenty of activity through most of Suicide Silence’s set. Although I spent nearly all of The Black Dahlia Murder’s set in interview with Psycroptic, it looked as though they had attracted a sizeable audience as well and a fair number of hardcore dancing participants.
Only Carcass were able to attract the whole venue, however, and from the time they took the stage at 9:40 till their departure around 11:00, Jeff Walker and company were in complete command. Fog pumped onto the stage, spotlights set up in front of each microphone cast an eerie light across the backdrop, and when the members strode to their spots, the light set their features and instruments in stark relief.
As the backing track opener drew to its close, Jeff Walker emerged from the mist, saluted the audience with his drink, and settled in front of the middle microphone. There, he took a solid stance from which he would move only occasionally, propping his left foot up on his monitor with his bass resting on his leg, pointed up towards the ceiling. His strap was classic metal excess—black leather with a metal skull-and-crossbones and bullets stitched in. His bass itself was an ESP or LTD in the EC (Les Paul) style with a semi-hollow body. It had an ESP truss rod cover, but a brass skull covered the headstock logo, while he’d decorated the body with Samael and Death stickers.
Although Jeff was the focus of attention on stage—lead vocalist and bassist, standing center stage—the remainder of Carcass’s half-British, half-Swedish lineup did plenty to make its presence felt. First among them is Bill Steer, Carcass’s co-founder, co-vocalist, and the source of genre-defining riffs that continue to inspire new death metal and grind groups today. His casual, even slightly bouncy stage presence and faintly 60s looks—flared jeans, faded T-shirt and straight hanging hair—reminded me some of Mikael Akerfeldt of Opeth. During his few vocal spots (including a couple tracks on lead), his expression became much more intense and his eyes glared. Afterwards, the calm demeanor returned, along with a wry half-smile and an eye roll when Jeff cheered him for performing through a rough bout with illness.
On the other side of the stage was the band’s decidedly more “metal” guitarist—the Swedish prodigy Michael Amott, who, of all the members, made the boldest statement, both in looks and performance. Whereas Bill would retreat a few steps on the stage for his solos, Michael took them to the audience, cutting about with his signature Dean Tyrant Bloodstorm Flying V, with its custom-crafted wings, a huge skull graphic on a bloody finish, and Valknut fretboard inlays. The two guitarists, though separated in appearance, had a strong performance chemistry and were riffing in lock-step through the uptempo bounces of ‘Carnal Forge’ and beyond.
Up on the drum riser with images of war, anatomical decay, and religious symbols projecting across his face to the backdrop behind, was the band’s newest and youngest member, Daniel Erlandsson. His presence was relatively low-key, compared to Michael and Jeff especially, but his performance was spot-on. The band’s original drummer Ken Owen, who was recognized by the band with a round of applause from the audience, would have approved of his energy and attitude.
Carcass live is a mixture of business and humor, with Jeff setting the tone between each song. Sometimes they would simply blast from one number straight into the next, while at others Jeff would take a moment to tune up and crack a self-deprecating joke or two. It was a little bizarre to hear him roar the horror-show lyrics to ‘Exhume to Consume’ and then toss off a one-liner in his breezy accent (some of which were lost on the audience), but all the members were quite natural together and on stage. A few of Jeff’s more memorable comments: after introducing the rest of the band, “And I won’t introduce myself. Just google me, if you like.” “Carcass has a zero tolerance policy on drugs…. Now this is a song about getting high off sniffing corpses.” Referring to this era of music downloading and filesharing, I paraphrase, ‘When the man comes to you, he doesn’t say, ‘You can join the army, be a doctor, or play grindcore.’ This isn’t a career choice. It’s about the music. You support us by coming to the shows, so download away…. I can say that because we’ll never receive another penny from Earache Records.’ Best of all was, “Now we’re going to do a few songs about religion,” which met with derisive cheers from the audience. Jeff held up his hands and said, “Now, I, like Dave Mustaine, have found religion over the past fifteen years.” Bewildered silence from the audience. “I have found it to be utterly full of shit.” And thus the cheers returned.
Running a bit less than 90 minutes, Carcass’s setlist was something to the effect of: Inpropagation, Buried Dreams, Corporal Jigsore Quandary, Carnal Forge, Empathological Necroticism, Incarnate Solvent Abuse, No Love Lost, Edge of Darkness, This Mortal Coil, Embodiment, Reek of Putrefaction, Keep on Rotting in the Free World, Genital Grinder, Pyosisified (Rotten to the Gore), Death Certificate, Exhume to Consume, Heartwork, with a few intro/outro segments lifted from throughout their discography. The songs fans occasionally shouted for all seemed to be played—particularly ‘Genital Grinder’—although the moshing and headbanging peaked on the ‘Heartwork’ material.
The band offered no encore, but none of us really expected it after the show they had put on. Their sound had been clear and balanced, their performance polished, and the house packed. If Carcass really does come through with that rumored new album they’re contemplating, I can think of at least 2,500 people who’d be lining up to buy it. Or download it, as Jeff might.
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