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Novembers Doom Concert Review
Chicago Powerfest Day II:
As excellent an experience as Day I of this festival had been, between the heavy-hitters Solitude Aeturnus and the surprising Benedictum and Lethal, Powerfest’s Day II looked even more promising. Recalling the traffic delays the day before, I decided to leave a half-hour earlier. But just my luck, traffic was nearly non-existent and I arrived at the venue far earlier than I’d expected to and at least 45 minutes before the first band was scheduled to go on. This gave me ample time to poke around the merch tables, which had been rather insufficient the first day; I had looked for Solitude Aeturnus and Atheist merch and hadn’t been able to find a single thing. The second day was a bit better, but overall a far cry from the multi-merchant professionalism of Progpower or even what one would expect from a regular tour, as the merchandise for all the bands was either scattered, incomplete, or simply non-existent.
But I was there for the music, not the merch, so I didn’t really mind, and after chatting some with the people I’d met the day before I went to wait by the stage. The next half hour passed uneventfully, and the only entertainment I had was trying to guess how much the security guard in front of the stage weighed. The Pearl Room has a penchant for hiring folks that make XXL look like youth muscle T’s, and although this guy was no taller than 5’8” I ended up putting him around 270 pounds, probably more. Such is the fruit of boredom.
Thankfully, 6:30 was quick in coming and Thurisaz prepared to begin. Coincidentally, they would be the first of three consecutive bands that had just toured together on the same bill in Europe. Although they’ve actually been around since the mid 90’s, Thurisaz been recording LP material for only a few years. I imagine they were too young back in those days to be really serious anyway, if my guesses of their age (mid-20’s) are at all accurate. The band consists of the standard combo instruments plus a keyboardist, with both guitarists handling vocals as well (Peter for the low growls and clean, Mattias for the shrieks, some of which were quite impressive indeed). From the outset I could tell that the venue’s sound production was cleaner than it had been the day before, which remained a consistent pleasure for all the bands’ sets. However, Kobe’s keyboards were still a little obscured, particularly with the aggressive paired vocals from Peter and Mattias.
The audience had filled out some by the time they got a couple songs into their set, which seemed to reassure the band. They had been energetic from the beginning, really rather fierce in how they attacked the riffing and powerful vocals, but with a few more bodies in the crowd they became that much more energized. Mattias in particular liked to goad the crowd to headbang, howl along, and generally just set the mood for the rest of the evening, which they did very well indeed. The band included songs from both their albums, with the material from their most recent, ‘Circadian Rhythm’, being especially impressive. Their style is a little hard to pin down, since it includes such elements as black metal riffing, death metal aggression, and atmospheric keyboards and passages, but they managed to bring each aspect together into a dark, convincing whole. If there was any shortcoming it would be that Peter’s clean vocals weren’t always precise, but he managed the growls and guitar so well that it wasn’t a real problem, and on record, it appears as though he does a sound job.
Being the opening band, their set was only 35 minutes, unfortunately, and it seemed like the running crew was eager to keep to their schedule, unlike Friday, so they wrapped up quickly, made sure to thank us all and say they hoped to return soon. If their subsequent releases continue to develop at the rate their first two did, I hope they return soon, too.
Second on the bill were Novembers Doom, who actually had headlined the tour of Powerfest’s opening trio when they toured Europe. I suppose their dropped position back home reflects America’s (and even Chicago’s) lack of faith in our very own, but Novembers Doom have made a career out of exceeding expectations for the overlooked underdogs, so perhaps they approached Powerfest with that same perspective. Their set certainly had some of that ‘chip on the shoulder’ feel to it, but that could have just been the level of energy that Larry always exudes on stage. The rest of the band takes a ‘stick to your guns’ approach and rarely move around that much, but Larry was rocker enough for them all. He would bang his head, swing the guitar out with feet splayed and long (seriously long) hair flying, and was the most vocal with getting the crowd into their set, also belting out some admirable backing vocals.
On the other hand, the rhythm section of Vito and Chris, who were paired on the opposite side of the stage, moved almost perfectly in accord for the entire set: a slow, reserved kind of headbang that involved the whole torso, and then leaning back a little bit for the more complex licks. The only time either broke rank was when Chris had a clean vocal section, during which he would always stand very still and look straight upwards, or when he was managing their backing tracks. Novembers Doom didn’t have anything overt in that respect, it was mostly only used for the introductory ambience, but there was once when a track started in the middle of another song and he had to rush back to turn it off. Nothing too distracting, really.
And finally, Paul Kuhr, the band’s vocalist and creator. From pictures I’d seen of him I knew that he was not a man to be trifled with, but pictures rarely do true justice to the stature of a man. I recalled the security guard whose dimensions I had tried to guess and immediately concluded that he would have been crushed by Paul without contest. He is as much a bear of a man as his vocals make him out to be, and when it comes to anchoring a band’s presence, this guy really has it down. Although he didn’t move around too much, I didn’t really find myself wanting him to; standing where he was, one hand on the mike stand, another gesturing from time to time along with those massive growls, that worked just fine for me.
And, being a bear, Paul also has his teddy side. At the show that evening was his little daughter, four years old I believe. She was carried out by an elderly lady, looking around wide-eyed and quiet, and pointed out to where her dad and uncles would be. During the set, she was up on the second floor watching from the side, and when the band’s set came to the contemplative ‘Autumn Reflection’ Paul dedicated the song to her. She responded with the horns. Looks like he’s bringing her up right.
The rest of their setlist also drew more than I would have expected from ‘The Pale Haunt Departure’, including the title track as their opener. Otherwise, they stuck to mostly new work, only once going back to ‘The Knowing’. With an album as heavy as ‘The Novella Reservoir’ just under their belt, though, I can’t blame them for wanting t stay fresh. Both ‘Rain’ and ‘Drown the Inland Mere’ (their closer, which was dedicated to Blacky of Voivod, apparently in attendance that night) were fantastically heavy. It was interesting, really, thinking that of all the bands on the bill that could be called doom, Novembers Doom ended up being the least doomy of all. In fact, when they did include a couple slower songs, they almost felt out of place. The overall impression of the set was very positive, though, although they still counted as another opening band and couldn’t play for long. The burgeoning crowd and I gave them an appreciative applause, and I made a mental note to make sure to see them live more often.
Continuing the melancholic thread and rounding out the trio of European tourmates was Saturnus, the Danish doomsters. I had seen them standing out in front of the venue (wedge into a macro-sized strip mall) the day before from afar and had known from the gear heaped around them that they were a band but wasn’t sure just who. Now, on stage, the black cap and frothy beard of Peter was impossible to miss. At this time, the show was still on schedule and Saturnus did their part to keep it that way, so there were no real issues with their set-up.
The crowd certainly wasn’t helping on that front, though. A pair of young guys came to the front to stand behind me carrying bags of merchandise brought from home to get signed and called out constantly to various members of the band in delight. They had driven all the way from South Carolina, they said, but had been unsure that they would commit to the drive until Saturnus was announced on the bill. I myself hadn’t been aware that Saturnus were the type of band to have fanboys, but these guys more than qualified. The band appeared to recognize them as well as a couple others in the crowd, and responded favorably (to what I presume is an inside joke) when someone towards the back yelled a few times, “Suck my anus!”
Crowd response is pleasant and all, but maybe a little more focus on the prep-work would have been best. When Saturnus did finally get under way, although the sound itself was outstanding the guitars didn’t seem in tune. This wasn’t really a problem until the harmonies began, at which point the band themselves visibly reacted. Generally, a half-step out of tune isn’t a lethal blow, but when the harmonies are as slow and prominent as Saturnus’s, it becomes something of an issue. Nevertheless, they marched ahead as much as a Doom band can be said to march, with the vociferous support of those two in the row behind me. After the first song they managed to get their guitars more in tune and carried on with their set quite successfully. Although I was not quite as stirred by their songs as I was by some other bands, Saturnus did a fine job at recreating their album’s sound and maintaining an appropriately dour mood as they played. In between songs, though, they would joke with the crowd and each other a bit, and during one extended instrumental segment their vocalist Thomas came out to stand in the audience and watch for a while.
Also to their credit, Saturnus were one of the few bands who drew material from all of their albums (that being only three, but spanning more than a decade). Although they did not play ‘Murky Waters’, one of relatively few songs of theirs I’m very familiar with, they did close with the iconic and powerful ‘Christ, Goodbye’, which is particularly of note for having (in my estimate) the heaviest single doom note struck either night, doing fine justice to the wifebeater sported by bassist Lennart that read simply, “HEAVY”.
After they finished I was surprised to find that we were still on schedule, and the set up for the next band got under way almost before the cheers had faded. Towards the end of the layover I momentarily blanked on who was coming up next. But then, as if on cue, my Canadian acquaintance leaned over to say, “Are you ready to get ass-kicked?”, and between his nationalistic (yet entirely merited) grin and the unmistakable blonde mane of Daniel Mongrain appearing on stage, I knew that it could only be Martyr.
I’ve not been the biggest fan of Martyr over the years—the vocals were always a little too gruff for me and the songwriting not quite developed enough—but I must say that I was eager to hear whether the live performance would set me straight, and whether they would compare to the live presence of Cryptopsy. Also keeping my interest up was that from what I had heard of their newest album, ‘Feeding the Abscess’, they had improve significantly across the board—production, songwriting, vocals, etc.
Even having the precedent of Cryptopsy in mind, though, I was not at all expecting what Martyr unleashed. The band consists of Daniel on lead guitars/vocals, the diminutive but tenacious Martin Carbonneau on guitars, Daniel’s brother Francois on bass and death vocals, and Patrice Hamelin on the drums. Each of them was absolutely impeccable, and as their set began with ‘Lost in Sanity’, I was immediately hooked. The improvements that I previously mentioned about ‘Feeding the Abscess’ were taken even further during their set: the vocals were aggressive and unique, but no longer a liability, the songwriting felt jagged but not incomplete, and most importantly, their collective energy and passion were the highest of any band during the show.
When not growling, Daniel was a maniac, doing entirely away with the misconception that technical death metal comes at the cost of a stage show. He would thrash his hair wildly, swing his arms like he was conjuring notes from the fretboard, or affix the audience with incredulous, contorted expressions, jerking his face and eyebrows around to replicate the directions of each guitar melody. His style of presentation is, as I can best describe it, a mix of Muhammed of Necrophagist, Lord Worm of Cryptopsy, and Chuck of Death. Like Muhammed, Daniel’s precision is sinister and deliberate, like Lord Worm, he was manic and wild, and like Chuck he managed to maintain his visual and vocal composure throughout even the most challenging of guitar passages. A madman on stage, but one very aware of and content with his insanity.
Francois and Martin were not quite as wild, but both would headbang energetically and really get into the fierce and turbulent that dominated each song. The conventional growling was handled by Francois, while the more accentuated, dynamic work (half a yell, half a growl) was done by Daniel. Patrice, understandably, took more of a focused workman’s approach. I had initially thought it unfair to hold him against Flo’s standard, and couldn’t help noting that Patrice had only half as many overheads as Flo, but in the end it’s quality over quantity, as they say. Not to say that Patrice was better than Flo—just different. He wasn’t as effusive, but no less effective. And really, comparing him to Flo does him an injustice, as Patrice is entirely able to stand on his own merits as a talented drummer without comparison. As a side note, his kit included a Sabian V-Wave (of the VFX series) cymbal, shaped like an S-curve and placed at the far left next to the hats. I can’t say that I saw him use it, but the tablature for ‘Warp Zone’, which they played second, says that he did so who am I to argue otherwise. As a side note, Martyr could be the only band I have seen members from headbanging in separate times and still staying in step. From the glances I stole of the audience behind me, many of them seemed too unsure of themselves to headbang intensely, perhaps not knowing which member to follow.
Martyr’s set also included ‘Perpetual Healing (Infinite Pain)’, a devastating rendition of ‘Speechless’, and others, primarily from the new ‘Feeding the Abscess’ album. The song ‘Nameless, Faceless, Neverborn’ was introduced by Daniel as, “a fucked up song for a fucked up people!”, which was met with a resounding response of, “fuck yes!” from somewhere towards the back. If there was any low point at all in their set, it would have to be the closer, ‘Ostrogoth’. That song has never appealed to me much, and although it, like all their other songs, sounded better live than I’d ever heard it before, something about it still didn’t sit right. Another thing, this not the band’s fault at all, was how little the crowd seemed to reciprocate their ferocity. Daniel a time or two made the universal sign for circle pit, and mentioned that ‘back home fans weren’t afraid to get into it, so we shouldn’t be either,’ but only a couple medium-sized pits were started, and those were mostly halfhearted. Still, in the end Martyr left me still enough of a fan to get a hold of their setlist (scrawled in blocky capital letters across the back of a ripped in half flyer for upcoming shows at The Pearl Room) and seek out their new album.
After they were done, the Canadian fellow was quick to find me and ask how severely I had been crushed, and I was forced to admit that it had been pretty brutal. I walked around a little, trying to see whether I could find the band and shake hands with them, but they had not yet come from backstage that I could see. I did find Robert Lowe and John Perez of Solitude Aeturnus standing near the merch tables, though, and was fiercely tempted to talk to them, but I couldn’t take more time and risk losing my spot up front. Because finally, after two days, nine bands, 150 miles of roundtrip driving, and 11 hours of standing, it was time for Atheist. After 16 years, if we’re going to get really technical about it, since according to Kelly himself Atheist hasn’t been in the Midwest since 1991.
As I had hoped, the venue was at last filling up to a respectable level. Before, keeping a spot up front had been maybe a little tight around the elbows but certainly no real issue, so long as one was willing to stand for that long. But by the time Atheist’s tour guitarists, Chris Baker and Sonny Carson, came out to rip through their warm-ups, the front rows had pushed in more, the Atheist shirts began to appear, and the general level of excitement was high. Older members Steve Flynn (in his flip-flops, white cap, and short shorts) and the dapper Tony Choy were both called to by name and resoundingly cheered, but no member’s welcome was as loud as Kelly’s when he flew out from the wings and Atheist were officially back.
As mentioned above, the members of Atheist didn’t particularly coordinate their style (Steve the Florida beach bum, polished Tony), and Kelly was no exception. He was tattooed from wrist to shoulder, and elsewhere I have no doubt, wearing a beanie and mesh cap over his long hair. With those looks, his bouncy stage presence, and an affection for weed that he expressed to us many times throughout the set, I got the impression that he was more of a California surfer dude than a legendary technical/progressive death metal guitarist and singer.
I suppose, too, the fact that Shaefer had gone on to form Neurotica was niggling in the back of my mind, too, so I was perhaps a little skeptical of how well he had retained his talent, blasphemous as that might be to say. After the set they put on that night, though, every one of them could have gone on to form multi-platinum nu metal acts with emover hairdos (a wig in Tony’s case) and I would still be eternally faithful to Atheist. Seeing some bands live is unbelievable, seeing others is like a religious experience—seeing Atheist, that was simply not of this world. Their albums are as challenging and unique today as they were those many years ago, and standing before them as they relived the best of their timeless songs was like nothing I have ever experienced. Each song throughout their hour-long set had the sound of energy and fresh appeal of an opener, each came to our ears filled with life and energy and joy.
Thankfully, the sound crew had finally managed to find the perfect mix, so every voice in the band was given its due. Tony’s bass leapt around with alacrity, Steve’s stutter-stepping syncopation was captured at every turn, the rhythms of Sonny, the ripping solos of Chris, and of course Kelly’s voice in the middle—all were combined in balance to create an experience truly indescribable.
Despite their fine mix, Kelly took extra time between songs early on to chide them about the persistent hum (“dynamo hum”, as he called it) in the background. He obviously takes a great deal of pride in what Atheist has accomplished, and how well they are finally being received by the community at large, saying that they would wait for the sound crew to fix it, that they weren’t going to play with no second-rate sound, that it was going to be perfect. A couple times he reminisced about the old days and how at odds they had been with the scene at large, particularly when he introduced songs from ‘Elements’. “Everybody was like, ‘what the fuck is this?’ when this album came out, but you guys get it now, right?” And of course we cheered in the affirmative. “So then here’s the grooviest metal song on record, this one’s called, ‘Air’.”
The crowd responded to material from all three albums very well, and frequently would call out specific favorites (‘An Incarnation’s Dream’ must have been shouted 40 times), but one particular highlight that I don’t think everyone was expecting was ‘Unholy Wars’. “You guys ready for some old school, and I mean old school, technical death metal? Hang on,” Kelly said, “this one’s a doozy.” And it was that indeed, without a doubt their most blazing and crowd-stirring moment.
The band also took a moment to recall their original bassist, “the late great Roger Patterson, I know you’re up there”, while Kelly dedicated ‘I Deny’ to him, which was Roger’s favorite song. On a lighter note, while still on that topic, after asking the pot-smokers in the audience to raise their hands, Kelly dedicated ‘Mother Man’ to the legalization of marijuana. Kelly pointed out to all those with their hands raised approvingly and said that anyone who would roll one out there for him was welcome to party after the show.
After right around an hour, which in retrospect was far too short a time slot for a headliner, Atheist were finally forced to close. At one point in the set we were so loud Kelly quipped that they perhaps should record another album (which Tony smiled at, perhaps approvingly), but he still said that this show was going to be their last ever in the Midwest. While we didn’t quite have the heart to boo, we did come close, and the exquisite closer ‘Piece of Time’ was taken as a bittersweet finale.
Once wrapped up, our cheers kept them on stage for some time, shaking hands and bowing. After all this time they still seem like a humble bunch, though, and appeared to be a lot more comfortable talking with fans one on one off the stage after the crowd had dispersed from the main floor. As I mingled, I noticed members from many other bands as well—Saturnus, Thurisaz, Novembers Doom, Lethal, Benedictum, and more—all chatting with fans and each other.
And I got the feeling that no matter how much we as fans have always wanted to see our legends in action, no matter who they are, when the band comes out of the lights and we rub shoulders, shake hands, and share a beer or two, those are the meetings that we really remember. Of all the concerts and festivals that I’ve been to, Powerfest was unique in that aspect. Other shows have had intermingling, other festivals have had meet and greets, but Powerfest was unique, and no matter who’s headlining next year I’ll be willing to return for that sense of camaraderie alone. And also because I am already resigned to the fact that 2007’s line-up and success will be tough to match.
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