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Anxiety Hangover: An Interview With Mike IX Williams Of Eyehategod

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Despite hailing from New Orleans, sludge-metal legends Eyehategod have formed a ton of connections to Richmond over the past three decades. Ryan Kent caught up with vocalist Mike IX Williams outside the National after their recent gig with GWAR to find out where things stand for the group in the wake of Hurricane Ida and the ongoing hardships of daily life in 2021.

“Come out here Communist bastard. I got wine. They won’t let me in.” 

Mike IX Williams sent that message two hours after NOLA’s Eyehategod opened for GWAR and Madball at the National back in September. This was the first of four shows. A prelude to an almost month and a half long hell-ride with the Scumdogs of the Universe and Napalm Death, which was set to launch October 28th at the NorVa in Norfolk, Va.

It was the best I’d seen Eyehategod play in recent years, and that’s not meant to be a backhanded compliment. The Richmond dates from years past were outstanding. Sharing bills with the likes of Negative Approach and Nachtmystium, Ringworm and Corrosion of Conformity. The Hat Factory. Strange Matter. The Broadberry, twice.

This show at the National just seemed better. More succinct, if that makes any sense, given the DUI nature of the music and the coarse vocals of their gutter-mouthed microphone player. Like driving with no brakes and no headlights. Nose-first into the ditch.

Maybe there was just less bog in the atmosphere on this night. 

Sure enough, the man had wine. It was one of those miniature boxed wines I’ve seen Moms carrying around The Fan. A little cardboard rectangle with a twisty-top.  

Photo by Dark Division Media, Courtesy Mike IX Williams

Mike IX was standing by a newspaper dispenser, a relic of the late Style Weekly, when I walked out of the National to meet the vocalist on Broad Street. I hadn’t seen him in a few years. It was the first tour Eyehategod had done in 20 months, and the first with guitarist Jimmy Bower back in its nucleus. Welding their bong-blues hardcore punk hull back together. 

Mike IX looked in his element standing on the sidewalk with his wine. Just as much as he looked in his element earlier howling into the SM-58. 

If you know the back story, you’ll most likely recognize the symbolism here. The streets seem to be synonymous with Eyehategod. A place that can be as unforgiving as it can be relentless. There’s nothing uplifting here unless you are soothed by the bleakness of concrete. Avoiding cops. Trying to keep a low-profile. A Southern nihilism front.

Listen to that with headphones on.

“I don’t have a place to live at the moment,” he said. “I moved back to New Orleans conveniently a week before the hurricane [Ida]. I was in an Airbnb and that got all fucked up.”

Hurricane Ida became the second-biggest cyclone to hit the Bayou State on record. The Category 4 caused $18 Billion in insured losses and had 150 mph sustained winds when it made landfall. Mike IX was also in New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina in 2005. It was Hell, in a lot of ways. He said there are still buildings standing down there with numbers spay-painted on the façades. A tally of how many bodies were inside.

“Well, you know, I got PTSD, and being in this last hurricane, everybody’s saying it was gonna be like Katrina. It wasn’t thankfully. It was similar, though, because all the power was out for weeks. But that kind of brought the PTSD back, because I stayed through Katrina. I was there. I don’t know if a lot of people know that story. But it’s a long story. I stayed there.” 

Since Ida, Mike IX has been waiting to get back in the van. Maybe to get away from bad luck or maybe just to get the fuck out of Louisiana. Eyehategod played three headline shows before the September 16th concert at the National, and they were all “weird and insane” thunderstorms. “We played Nashville, and Nashville is a cool city,” he said, “but I didn’t expect it to be like – people were just dancing like crazy. It was fun, man.” 

These are the good things. Welcome deluges and heavy winds. New bodies twisting around each other in the middle. Chaos with the power on. The feeling of being picked up and thrown somewhere.

“We’ve always seen younger people show up to our shows,” he went on. “I remember the first time we kind of noticed it. I don’t know what year it was. Like, 2000 or something. Our friends would show up with their kids, and their kids are wearing our shirt [or] whatever Eyehategod thing and they’re like 12. That’s when I got into [music]. I mean, probably 11-12. Then those kids are now grown up [and] maybe they have kids. I don’t know what you call it. Like a ‘murder of kids,’ or something.” 

Playing this brand of underground music is a Hail Mary pass on a good day. Even the superstars aren’t household names. Most original bands don’t even make it beyond the line of scrimmage without being knocked down or batted to the sidelines. Or worse, made to watch some Edison intercept the playbook and run it the opposite way for glory. Eyehategod have shot for the moon for over 30 years. Playing in dank shitholes and mid-level clubs, preaching the same end-time message for three decades across the United States and Europe. New people keep showing up to be leveled by this stark funnel cloud from New Orleans.

Photo by Dark Division Media, Courtesy Mike IX Williams

“Shout out to the Lost Well [in Austin, TX]. It’s such a fucking sleazy and fucking beautiful place,” Mike IX said.

I remembered the Lost Well from a tour stop years ago. It looked like the kind of outlaw dive you could imagine Dennis Hopper had drank in once, and spit on the floor. Where there’s blood on the wall in the bathroom, and the toilets don’t have seats.

“I don’t want to bust them, but there’s things you can procure there. It’s not the bar, it’s people that go there. I love those bars. Those are the bars I grew up in as a kid. Punk rock bars. The place would get trashed, like, every weekend, and they’d just put the chairs back up and have another show. Toilets getting destroyed — that’s not cool [to] destroy the toilets. The club might have to close. It’ll cost them money. Just crazy-ass-shit.” 

Their recent headline shows have been in small clubs. The energy has been intimate and unruly. Close enough to be sweat on by Jimmy Bower. Eight years ago, my old band, Gritter, opened for Eyehategod with Ringworm at Strange Matter. A five-band bill with zero room for us on the stage. I liked playing floor shows. I could move around and not be confined to a 3ft-by-3ft square surrounded by gear. I’d rather be closer to the audience anyway. At their eye-level. Feeling their momentum. Given the option, it was always my choice.

“Do you remember when it was Twisters?” he asked.

‘Wasn’t here yet,” I said. “Moved here in late 2003, so it was the Nancy Raygun then.”

“Oh okay,” he said. “I didn’t know when you [moved] to Richmond. It’s pretty much the exact same place with a few things changed. We were [at Twisters] with Buzzov*en, like, all the time. We toured with Buzzov*en twice, but we played with them all the time. We’d do shows here and there, like one-off things. We’d drive straight up to Richmond [from New Orleans] just to play with them.”

The 1990’s became a Molotov cocktail for Eyehategod. Records like Take As Needed For Pain and Dopesick were fresh wounds. The legendary tour opening for Pantera and White Zombie in 1996 solidified Eyehategod’s name in infamy. Also, the world-of-mouth tale of a guy setting himself on fire during a show at Twisters with Today Is The Day and Burn The Priest was cauterized into Richmond metal lore. It can still be heard slurring from the mouths of old dudes in bars around town. Every word of it true.

They were lawless, godless, lunatics for hire, and some great like-minded bands followed suit.

The poster in question, as sourced from the internet. Art by Frank Kozik.

Vince Burke (Hail!Hornet, Beaten Back To Pure) owns Sniper Studios, which is located 2.5 hours away from Richmond, in Moyock, NC. On the back of the control room door hung a loud, gold-leaf Eyehategod poster. I looked at the poster for days when Gritter recorded there 11 years ago. So fascinated by the poster’s medieval Lucifer that it never dawned on me to ask Vince who the designer was. 

I took the opportunity on the sidewalk to ask Mike IX.

“That was Frank Kozik,” he said. “It was Alabama Thunderpussy and Suplecs. That was our [former] bass player’s [Danny Nick] band. Like, a real stonerish rock band, whatever that means. And I forget who else [Drunk Horse and Natas (from Argentina)]. It was from a show in San Francisco, the gold Kozik thing.”

It was a scarce piece of memorabilia to have.  

“I may still have it somewhere, but I don’t know. My stuff’s all over the country [in] storage rooms.”

Before moving back to New Orleans, Mike IX was living in Salem, Massachusetts – 25 miles just outside of Boston. Home to the famous witch trials and the Freemason’s grand architecture.

“Salem’s alright, man. I mean, it’s not great. It’s like a tourist thing, you know. They call it ‘Witch City’ which is so corny to me, but the tourists eat it up and I get it. If they want to make money, they call it ‘Witch City.’ I would too. I like Boston itself. I thought Boston itself was – it’s much more like cities I’m used to.”

“Less of a smalltown vibe. Less suburbia. Much different than the City of Richmond,” I said.

“Yeah. I mean – yeah,” he said.

Right about that time the National emptied out. 

Glassy-eyed fans wearing bloody GWAR shirts noticed Mike IX and started walking up, already shouting excited congratulations about Eyehategod’s set. I knew the interview needed to be put on hold. We began wading through the people, like a sandbag wall had collapsed, temporarily flooding the sidewalk with black shirts and tattoos. It took a half-hour or so, but finally we made it across the street to Eyehategod’s Sprinter van. Gary Mader (bass) and Jimmy Bower were outside taking in the pre-autumn air. Drummer Aaron Hill had gone back to the hotel a few hours before. 

I didn’t finish the interview with Mike IX that night.

Photo by Dark Division Media, Courtesy Mike IX Williams

Five weeks later, I was listening to his spoken word-cum-industrial project, Corrections House (featuring Scott Kelly of Neurosis, producer Sanford Parker, and saxophonist Bruce Lamont), while driving back from the Outer Banks. The lyrics to the title track of their 2013 debut album, Last City Zero, were taken from Mike IX’s 2005 book of lyrics and poetry, Cancer As A Social Activity. I remembered how the book inspired me to continue writing poetry even though I was in a metal band. Some years after that, I handed Mike IX my first book of poetry. When the time came to release my second, he wrote a paragraph for the back cover.

Twenty-five minutes from Moyock, I pulled into Digger’s Dungeon (home of Dennis Anderson’s Grave Digger) off North Carolina Highway 168 to shoot Mike IX a message. On September 16th, I’d wanted to ask him why he’d left Boston. Maybe even get some of the lurid details about the hurricanes. But for whatever reason it felt inappropriate, so I stuck with pedestrian shit. Maybe it had something to do with the sidewalk. 

He got back to me that day, saying, “I don’t wanna talk about leaving Boston. I’ll talk about living there a little bit, however. I’ve lived all over: San Francisco, Houston, Brooklyn, spent a good bit of time in Chicago, blah blah. I’ll [get back to you] in a couple of hours.”

Eyehategod played a show the night before, and Mike IX was sleeping it off. 

A few hours later I received this message.

“Hurricane Ida heading this way just brought back a lot of tension and anxiety to the city and me personally. It was bringing up bad memories of Katrina and what that did to our city. All the anguish it caused EVERYONE in New Orleans. Luckily, in the city proper, Ida didn’t cause too much physical damage, but the mental damage was there, nonetheless. The poor people on the Gulf Coast however, got demolished AGAIN. The pain in the ass in NOLA was that the power was out for weeks. I evacuated to a hotel on the beach in Mississippi and wasted a ton of money paying for that, which sucked. I had just moved back from Boston as well, so I was like, ‘Great timing!’ Katrina just fucked everybody’s head up. Lots of horrific scenes. I ended up in jail in Morgan City for ‘liberating some items from a Walgreens pharmacy.’ Actually, I looted the fuck out of that place. There’s so much more detail to this it’s incredible. Every person here, at that time, has their own stories of that hurricane. It definitely left scars on us all. I’m gonna write the full story sooner or later of August 29, 2005.”

It’s fitting Mike IX Williams moved back to New Orleans just in time for Hurricane Ida. That old saying of, “If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all” couldn’t ring truer when said in the same breath as the singer’s name. That goes as well for the band and their name: Eyehategod. 

Really? Eyehategod? 

You can find lots of meaning in a name if you poke a shovel just below the surface. Maybe make several comparisons based on circumstantial evidence. Maybe it’s the necessity to have meaning for a run of good luck or bad luck. Package it together, tie a little bow on the top and – voila. There’s your nice little reason for everything. Your apex predator. Your benevolent benefactor. 

For instance, the names Ida and Katrina have very different origins, but their meanings can piggyback one another depending upon where you are in your quest for meaning. Ida comes from the Germanic root id, meaning “labor” or “work,” while Katrina is ancient Greek, meaning “pure,” as well as “torture.”  

On the other hand, the name Williams is derived from the old German Wilhelm, meaning “resolute protector” or “strong-willed warrior.”

Mix that up in a bowl and call it whatever you want. The ingredients are sitting right on top. It won’t be terribly difficult to put two and two together. One slice of marbled rye, then a slice of pumpernickel, and whatever you want in the middle. Like how Dean Martin sang, “You’re Nobody Until Somebody Loves You;” well, Biggie Smalls rapped “You’re Nobody Until Somebody Kills You.”

Sometimes, life doesn’t have any real meaning. Seems to be, at times, that apex predator stomping around a deciduous forest looking for you. Not one that simply looks like you or may weigh roughly the same as you or use a similar soap, but specifically you. Or maybe some terminal billionaire is being driven around town in their Bentley Mulsanne, desperately trying to bequeath you their entire estate before the stroke of midnight.

Sorry, but all of that is nonsense. Mike IX Williams didn’t protect NOLA from “pure torture,” and he wasn’t supposed to. Hurricanes Ida and Katrina held no personal vendetta against the Big Easy. It’s just how it is. Occasionally, life is in the business of dying. Maybe even living. It’s all one big storm with a different name and a different trajectory. Pay attention or throw caution to the wind. Luck is only in Vegas. 

Take that as needed for pain.

Top Photo by Dark Division Media, Courtesy Mike IX Williams

GWAR Laid Waste To The National Once Again

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In preparation for kicking off their 30th anniversary tour for landmark album Scumdogs Of The Universe, GWAR brought Madball and Eyehategod along with them to destroy The National. The jubilant crowd loved every minute of it.

You should’ve been there.

I guess that’s what people say the day after a good show. Sucks to hear as a kid, but eventually becomes a shoulder shrug as you get older. Leading up to the pandemic, trendsetters found it hip not to go to the show. Whatever that means — probably the same bullshit as not using a turn signal. Has that trend shown up in your neighborhood yet? 

Still, it feels necessary to say “You should’ve been there” after this particular GWAR show. It was a one-off before the start of their tour for the 30th Anniversary of Scumdogs of the Universe (which they played in its entirety on this night), with Napalm Death and Eyehategod, which will commence on Oct. 28th. 

The venue wasn’t packed. It was full, but it wasn’t packed, despite a solid bill featuring New York Hardcore legends Madball and the once-dopesick Eyehategod. 

Photo by John Reinhold

This makes sense with autumn approaching and the looming COVID-19/Delta Variant ready to bare its canines. Proper safety precautions were taken by the National before admittance to the venue (i.e., proof of vaccination or a negative COVID test) and a large portion in attendance kept their masks on.

It’s been especially rough for musicians these last 18 months. People gotta eat. Mike IX Williams spoke into the microphone after Eyehategod’s rousing conclusion of “New Orleans is the New Vietnam,” seeming to acknowledge the missing persons. “I’d slit my wrist in the crowd just to see a show. A year and a half.”

That was the truth. Eyehategod sounded fantastic. Maybe even better than I’ve heard them play in years. Could’ve been a combination of necessity and appreciation to have live music back. They didn’t disappoint, filling their set with fan favorites from genre-defining albums Take As Needed For Pain and Dopesick. Eyehategod also included material from 2021’s A History of Nomadic Behavior, finishing off their set with the relentless “Every Thing, Every Day.”  

The audience loved it. Shit, I loved it and I can’t remember half of what they played. 

I’ve never really listened to Madball. Sure, I’ve heard them before, but I couldn’t tell you the name of a song. That’s also not a segue into saying I dislike the band for whatever reason. I’ve just never really listened to Madball. 

From jump – I say “jump” because their energetic frontman, Freddy Cricien, did that all over the stage – Madball delivered. Cricien had more energy than anyone in the room that night, and he’s 45 years old. Certainly hadn’t expected the Richmond crowd to eat up their set the way they did, either. A reminder that I hadn’t been to a hardcore show in a long time. The crowd was sweaty and Madball was excellent.

Photo by John Reinhold

Smoking weed is fun, and I think everyone smoked weed before GWAR played. Old people were comfortable on the sidelines and in the back, dar from fake blood and green dual-udder ejaculate. Hot breath and hands and elbows. I kept my mask on and leaned against a railing by the bar.

Adam Kravitz, guitarist of local instrumental-metal band FutureProjektor, told me his old band the Diseased opened for GWAR at Twisters just before their tour promoting Scumdogs of the Universe. He said they only played three songs before they were kicked offstage. “It was my second show.”

That was roughly thirty years ago. Things are much different now. 

Sans any original members since the passing of unforgettable leader Dave Brockie, GWAR has touched down on each hapless city in the US, not with something to prove (it’s been seven years), but a legacy to uphold. Diehard GWAR fans and casual listeners have gotten their money’s worth with each event, this one included. Naysayers of the past are largely silent now. GWAR must’ve drowned them in spooge.

The stage show, and hilarious banter aside, GWAR are exceptional musicians and they ready-aim-fired on the entire Scumdogs of the Universe can(n)on. Brent Purgason can bring out the dormant air-guitarist in a sea of heshers, and Brad Roberts is one nasty extraterrestrial behind the drums, while Mike Derks and Casey Orr bring killer stringed weaponry as Balsac the Jaws of Death and Beefcake the Mighty.

Photo by Branden Wilson

But, if there is anyone capable of stepping into fill the vacant spot of a legendary frontman, hands-down my money is on Michael Bishop. He nailed the songs from Scumdogs. His antler headdress and hide from a vanquished “Spectral Moon Moose” triumphantly reigned supreme over the Slave Pit. GWAR’s front-thing defends their legacy with axe and shock-rock, load-dripping udders. The Berserker Blothar murdered the National.

They’re just a nightmare of a good time. 

It’s probably close to impossible for GWAR to disappoint. They cut off Joe Biden’s head on September 16th. I don’t really care about politics, but I like watching people get decapitated in this fashion.  

Really though, you don’t need a play-by-play of a show that happened two weeks ago. If you’ve seen GWAR before, you know what goes on there. There’s fake blood and slime and violence and bad language. There are people dressed in outrageous costumes. If you haven’t experienced GWAR, well, I don’t know what to tell you. 

Maybe, buy a ticket for their Oct. 28th show at the NorVA? Maybe get a vaccine and wear a mask? Or maybe keep being hip sitting at home. Do what you like.

Top Photo by John Reinhold

Nomads With Billboards: A Conversation With Eyehategod

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The pandemic still rages, so Eyehategod have not returned to Richmond yet. But their new album, A History of Nomadic Behavior, gives local sludge-metal fans something to look forward to. Ryan Kent speaks to Jimmy Bower and Mike IX Williams about the new album, their billboard in NOLA, and more.

Maybe sometime today, you’ll need to pull your shitty car off I-10, right in front of the Superdome in New Orleans, Louisiana. Maybe the check engine light has come on again. Again. Maybe you’re shouting an f-word combination as you southpaw the steering wheel like a speedbag. Maybe a blasphemy laced monologue for the seething KO. 

If you look through the flames clawing at sky from under the hood, maybe what you’ll see will come as an odd coincidence. A mirror reflecting your present feelings. Or maybe even some subliminal message risen from below. 

A giant billboard in front of you spelling out: 

EYEHATEGOD

Maybe you won’t have those feelings at all. Maybe despair over the terminal illness of said shitty car. Maybe the irony of seeing the billboard in front of the Saints home turf. Maybe you’re just pissed off.

Either way, the billboard is there.

For the next month. 

Sorry dude(s).

A bunch of other words are on the billboard, also, but all you see at first are the three words harpooned into one:

EYEHATEGOD

Repeat it like a chant if you want to conjure up some less-than-good juju, which has been a mainstay in the band’s history. Word-of-mouth war stories have become heavy metal lore. A constant shootout with Heaven and Hell. The Old West but in New Orleans.

Photo via Eyehategod.ee

The “bunch of other words” on the billboard are advertising the band’s new album, A History Of Nomadic Behavior. It’s the first since their eponymous release in 2014 and the first full-length without founding drummer Joey LaCaze, whose sudden death stung the band in 2013. Aaron Hill has resided behind the kit since October of that year, and Gary Mader has remained the longest tenured bassist of the band since he joined in 2002. A History Of Nomadic Behavior also marks the absence of guitar player Brian Patton.

Four singles have been released via different online platforms since December 2020. These singles — “High Risk Trigger,” “Circle of Nerves,” “Fake What’s Yours,” and “Built Beneath The Lies” — offer a much clearer vocalization of lyrics from Mike IX Williams (much different when compared to the band’s genre defining 90’s releases) and a more apparent, unapologetic boogie to the guitar work of Jimmy Bower.

In a perfect world this interview would be conducted in a backyard somewhere. COVID-19 restrictions have wiped the floor with any chance of that happening (not to mention all of us live in different states). None of us really like talking on the phone either, so an email Q&A is the next best option. It’s no billboard but whatever.

RVA: So, what does all this mean to you?

Jimmy Bower: To me it means we’re doing something right. We’ve learned a lot together as a band that has always made us stronger. We’re proud of what we’ve accomplished.

Mike IX Williams: Excitement, energy, creativity. Following the freedom to do what I want in a shithole world. We’re lucky to get to spread our sound throughout the lands.

RVA: Why do you think your brand of music has persevered when aspects of your personal lives have not? Why did you stare down these obstacles when the odds were against?    

JB: We’re nothing but survivors. Shit happens, always will.

IX: Well, things change, it’s inevitable, but all music is forever. Humanity is not. Why do I stare down obstacles? Because that’s what people do, FUCK the odds! I’m gonna do what I hafta do to survive. Whatever the cliche is, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”? Well yeah, that, times a zillion. Music, writing and art are the constants we can always rely on.

RVA: Regarding that, what does this billboard mean to you as a band that has hailed from NOLA since 1988? Especially since the band’s name has always seen more chagrin than praise?

JB: I think it’s really cool to see it so big like that and yes, considering the band name, [it] definitely deserves a little chuckle.

IX: It’s nice to flip a middle finger in the faces of all those assholes who talked shit about this band, so there’s that. I’ve been playing out live in venues with bands since I was 15, so to have a billboard in our hometown is pretty cool. We started this band to play the music we wanted to hear, we never thought other people would actually like it, so it feels great to see something like that after 30+ years in EHG. We didn’t even take this band seriously in the beginning and could barely play our instruments… so the billboard is actually funny to me.

RVA: Has the state of the world been an influence on the lyrics of A History Of Nomadic Behavior? Have they had a significance on the tone of your guitar playing?

JB: I can’t speak for Mike, but my tone reflects my vision of a gnarly sound. Meant to disturb the weak and soothe the sick.

IX: I mean, yeah, but I wrote the majority of those lyrics way back before 2020. I’ve always been anti-police and pro-human rights and very much into the idea of direct action, so any words I wrote that ended up on this new album that people are calling “political” come from the way I’ve felt my whole life. 

RVA: What do you think the lasting effects of the global pandemic and social unrest in our nation will have on the United States?

JB: I have four strings on my guitar, so my opinion doesn’t mean much.

IX: That’s hard to say, as things are mutating and devolving/evolving every day. The anxiety and stress that this pandemic has brought upon lots of people will have definite lasting effects, and who knows where that will lead. I think in some aspects this thing will scar many folks mentally, while others will adapt. As far as the social unrest, the protests last summer were needed and, in my eyes, totally justified for change. Hopefully we’ll see things get better in the future, but it’s gonna be tough with human intelligence levels dropping as we speak. 

RVA: Richmond was an EYEHATEGOD town in the 90’s. You’ve played a duffel bag full of shows here over the years and Jimmy lived here in 2020. What are your memories of Richmond? 

[Author’s Note: Richmond is still an EHG town.]

JB: Richmond has always been a second home to us and having lived there I can really appreciate the artistic side of the town. In a way it reminds me of New Orleans, has a strong music scene, and great people. I loved living there except the toll booths! Lol.

IX: Haha, you say “was”… I hope it’s still an EHG town now! My memories of RVA are of chaos and fun, hanging out, partying and touring with Buzzov’en, our roadie/driver going to jail there on the way to NYC, playing at Twister’s and the time the roadie for Today is the Day set himself on fire on stage with us, fighting on stage with an opening band who abused an amp we let them use, staying at Randy Blythe’s house, having after-show parties, him singing with us on stage, hanging out with El Duce behind the 7-11 drinking 40’s… I could go on and on, but a lot of the stuff can’t be mentioned here due to parental warnings.  

RVA: What about music inspires you, and what inspires you in a spiritual sense?

JB: Music to me is very powerful. It can alter your mood and helps to see. My spirituality compares to that of an old soul.

IX: Let’s face it, there is no “God;” I think nature is the closest thing we have that is akin to spirituality. Air, trees, water, animals are all very important to me and give me some idea of the energies that exists in this universe. I’ve had an affinity for music since I was a small youth, it just hits you in places and makes you feel different soul vibrations and emotions. It’s part of my biology.  

RVA: Who are your musical heroes?

JB: Son House, Hank Williams, Black Flag, Nathan Abshire, etc.

IX: I don’t have any heroes, to be honest. I have musicians whose lives have inspired me and influenced me, but I don’t idolize any one person that way. People I admire for their music and what they have done with that music are too many to mention here, but a few are Alice Cooper, Nick Cave, Yo-Yo Ma, Dr. John, Agnestha Fältskog, Genesis P-orridge, Darby Crash, Tony Iommi, Yamatsuka Eye, John Lydon, Jah Wobble, Sakevi, Jaz Coleman, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry, Johnny Cash, Siouxsie, Iggy, HR, Dennis Hopper… I mean fuck, I appreciate so many different artists this list could go on forever…

RVA: If you met them, would you tell them, or keep it cool?

JB: Tell them, of course.

IX: Of course, I’d tell them how they’ve changed my life in certain ways, but there would be no ass kissing. I’ve met a lot of people I looked up to as a kid, some I’ve only met in passing and some I’ve been on tour with and sat and had conversations. People are only human, no matter what they’ve contributed. 

RVA: If you could fight anyone who would it be?

JB: Virginia is for lovers, man.

IX: Probably you for these questions, or a knife fight to the death with the Snuggles bear. 

RVA: Would you win?

JB: No

IX: Most definitely, but have you ever seen the Snuggles bear on PCP…? Fearless madman.

One night last year, I was sitting in Jimmy’s car after a benefit show (but before the year turned into twice-run-over dog shit). A band patch was stuck to the dash above the CD player. It was a Black Sabbath patch. Mid-conversation, I said something like, “Say what you want to about your guitar playing; I know you love Sabbath and I do too, but I’ve listened to way more of your guitar playing than Iommi’s.”

Oh reader, you’ll probably call me a kiss-ass. Who gives a shit?

I think Jimmy called me a loser.

The world has a way of beating the pretense out of you. You stop apologizing for what you like and who it makes you appear to be to other people. Honesty comes along with this. As does humility. Eventually you figure out who you are. What you like. Makes it easier to take the sacrament of your heroes and have compassion for others and whatever the fuck it is they’re about. Sometimes there’s a reward for your faith.

I asked Jimmy if the Sabbath patch is still stuck to the dash.

Yes, he said.

See what I mean?

Winner by K.O.

EYEHATEGOD

Top Photo by Robb Duchemin.

VA Shows You Must See This Week: April 3 – April 9

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FEATURED SHOW
Thursday, April 4, 5 PM
Sports Bar (photo by Samuel Dixon Photography), Tommy And The Commies, Les Lullies, Nightcreature @ Hardywood – Free!
I’ve teased Sports Bar within this column in the past for being slackers. If you’ve been reading for a while, you surely know about it; I’ve even gotten emails from the band themselves about it (no worries, they thought it was funny). But I think I just might have to take it all back, because Sports Bar have been quite productive over the last six months or so. First they released their debut full-length LP, Stranger In My Head, last October. Now, only half a year later, they’re holding a release party for the follow-up EP, Something Good. Have Sports Bar outgrown their slack persona?

Well, let’s not be hasty — only time will really tell on that score. But considering that Stranger In My Head only further proved what savvy Richmonders have known for years — that this band’s mix of catchy melodies and garage-punk irreverence makes them a flawless creator of perfect power-pop gems — chances are they could take this whole thing a lot farther if they stay this active. More importantly for the purposes of this column, Richmonders will get more chances to see them play live! Here’s your first one — and it’s free, so you definitely don’t want to miss it.

They’ll be joined on this bill by two hot power-pop groups from outside the US, both of which are just as unmissable as Sports Bar themselves. Tommy And The Commies hail from Ontario, and not only have a pretty awesome name but also prove on 2018’s Here Come… that they know how to bring back the toe-tapping rage of late-70s British punk with maximum aplomb and panache. Meanwhile, Slovenly Recordings labelmates Les Lullies, who hail from France, have a grungier, snottier take on late-70s dawn-of-punk riffage, expertly evoking the Real Kids and Radio Birdman on last year’s self-titled LP. Both of these bands are going to tear it up at Hardywood tomorrow night, and with Nightcreature kicking things off, you’ll be hearing excellent sounds from moment one. Don’t miss this, y’all — you never know when Sports Bar will take another year off.

Wednesday, April 3, 7 PM
And The Kids, Bat House, Cardinal @ The Camel – $10 in advance/$12 day of show (order tickets HERE)
And The Kids aren’t exactly punks, but they’ve definitely got some of that rebellious spirit within them. It isn’t just identified by them beginning their band name with a preposition, either. You can hear the spunk and spirit they bring to their melodic, energetic indie rock on their latest album, When This Life Is Over, which came out back in February. Recording for the group is always a bit of a complicated proposition, with one member having been deported to Canada in 2014 while the duo who formed the group make their home in Massachusetts. But by mixing together everything from bedroom demos to complicated multi-track layers, they pulled together a really great record.

How will they recreate such a thing live — and how will the fact that one of the band’s members was deported to Canada affect all that? I imagine the US doesn’t just let you back in with no complaints when it’s time to tour, so for all I know, we’ll be getting a slightly rearranged lineup of And The Kids at The Camel tonight. But the tunes will still be in one piece, and founders Hannah Mohan and Rebecca Lasaponaro’s excellent vocal harmonies are sure to shine brightly. So no matter who else is backing them up, you should really be there to see what magic they create. They’ll arrive in the company of talented Boston math-rockers Bat House, and get a guaranteed-splendid opening set from up-and-coming local indie geniuses Cardinal. All this, all for you. Isn’t it wonderful?

Thursday, April 4, 9 PM
Ulthar, Left Cross, Disintegration @ Wonderland – $10
Ulthar are coming through, and you better batten the hatches — especially if you see any cats around. This California trio brings together former members of harsh metal ragers like Mutilation Rites and Vastum to kick out some dirty blackened thrash in tribute to pioneering horror author HP Lovecraft — something they do an expert job of on their debut album, Cosmovore.

From the guttural vocals, blasting drums, and speedy riffage (all of which Lovecraft himself, an avowed despiser of music, would surely detest) to the lyrics referencing a variety of concepts from the old man of Providence’s classic works, Ulthar carry on a glorious tradition of Lovecraft-influenced metal, and we are all the beneficiaries as they prepare to cast a dank miasma over Shockoe Bottom with their eldritch terror. They’ll be joined by Richmond’s raw thrashers Left Cross and local grinders Disintegration for a blasphemous night full of maximum brutality.

Friday, April 5, 10 PM
The Marcus Tenney Trio @ The Savory Grain – Free!
It seems other people around town are finally starting to notice just how much top-quality free jazz (in the it-doesn’t-cost-anything sense rather than the Ornette Coleman sense) is available around Richmond, and I for one am glad — excellent jazz sounds have been bubbling just under the surface of the Richmond music scene for years now, and it’s high time it got wider recognition. But just because other people are catching on doesn’t mean we’ll stop talking about it over here, and so I’m here to tell you that the jazz show most worth talking about this week is happening Friday night at The Savory Grain.

Specifically, The Marcus Tenney Trio will be playing for your musical enjoyment. Tenney should need no introduction by now — from his work in Butcher Brown, No BS! Brass Band, and multiple other combos around town to his many excursions as bandleader and even his hip hop career under the name Tennishu, Tenney keeps busy with cranking out the excellent music for RVA fans’ enjoyment… and you know this, so I don’t know why I’m repeating it now. But this night finds him backed by a couple of local jazz stars who may not be as well known around town. Drummer Corey Fonville has anchored Butcher Brown’s rhythm section for years now, as well as doing a ton of session work and generally being amazing, while Matthew Hall spent several years as an expat, bringing his bass skills to the jazz scene in Istanbul, Turkey for quite a while. He’s returned to Richmond and will give locals a chance to catch up or get familiar as an integral part of Marcus Tenney’s trio this Friday night. Drop in and dig the sound.

Saturday, April 6, 7 PM
YOB, Voivod, Amenra @ The Broadberry – $25 (order tickets HERE)
OK, I can’t be the only metalhead in town who saw this lineup and immediately whispered, “Oh my god…” to themselves, right? I mean, this is a double dose of the heaviest, hardest-hitting music out there. There’s just no other way to put it. YOB have been going for over two decades now, and this slow, sludgy, and heavy-as-fuck trio go so far beyond the typical doom metal template that they’re in a class by themselves. To give you an idea, their latest album, last year’s Our Raw Heart, was written by frontman Mike Scheidt while he was in the hospital recovering from a health scare. It is both sludgy as fuck and ominously psychedelic in the manner of the best Neurosis albums. Getting it thrown at you at top volume when these guys take the stage at The Broadberry is sure to be a treat, assuming you enjoy being buffeted by waves of pure sonic gloom.

And also assuming you aren’t completely spent after a set from YOB’s equally powerful tourmates, Voivod. Doing YOB one better, Voivod have been around for over three decades now, and just released their 18th album, The Wake, last year. Over their 35 years of existence, Voivod have done everything from speedy thrash to strange, mathematical prog-metal, and The Wake finds the group exploring all facets of their wide-ranging sound, and then some, in order to talk further focus on their long-running themes: the dehumanizing nature of technology, the chaos of our modern world, and our murderous culture of war and violence. Look, maybe this won’t be the most uplifting show that’s ever happened in Richmond, but do you come to metal seeking your daily affirmation? Or are you, like most of us, just looking for some great riffs to headbang to? YOB and Voivod have you covered on that one. You know what to do.

Sunday, April 7, 7 :30 PM
The Telescopes (Photo by Solange Magnin), Cult Of Lip, Keep @ Capital Ale House Music Hall – $13 in advance/$15 day of show (order tickets HERE)
Here’s a pretty incredible thing: psychedelic shoegaze pioneers The Telescopes are making their way to Richmond this Sunday night. The English group got their start in the late 80s, grabbing attention as a member of the formidable Creation Records stable in the early 90s and bringing a hazy, ethereal sensibility to their tunes full of loud guitars and beautiful vocal harmonies. After disappearing for a decade or so, the group returned in the mid-00s, and numerous lineup changes have taken place since, but always with founder and chief songwriter Stephen Lawrie in the frontman position.

Their simultaneous connections to the early days of shoegaze and the psychedelic, spaced-out UK guitar groups like Loop and Spacemen 3 shows through in the beautiful music they make, most recently on the brand-new Exploding Head Syndrome, the group’s 11th album. They’ll roll into town with plenty of fuzz and some powerful amps in tow, all set to blow you away and wipe your mind clean — so be prepared. They’ll have Minneapolis’s Cult Of Lip in tow, all set to bowl you over with a set of early-JAMC guitar clatter, and the whole night will be kicked off by local shoegaze torchbearers Keep. Get ready for some serious pedal-hopping, y’all.

Monday, April 8, 8 PM
Allegra, FINE., Hot Spit, Warrington @ The Camel – $5 in advance/$7 day of show (order tickets HERE)
Citrus City really manages to keep their finger on the pulse. Not only do they scoop up a ton of gorgeous emo pop bands around Richmond, they range far afield to sign the best bands playing this style around the country and world. Witness their latest collaboration with Philadelphia’s Allegra, who are coming to town this Monday night having just released their latest EP, Yet Not Enough, through Citrus City Records. Full of excellent tunes, this understated release from Allegra shows off the band’s “queer twinkly emo” sensibilities without overwhelming the listener with million-note lead guitar runs or brain-scrambling time-signature tricks.

Instead, we find singer-guitarist Allegra Eidinger’s softly beautiful melodies and ringing guitar strums anchoring a collection that’s sure to win your heart. And we’ll undoubtedly see the same thing onstage when the quartet pulls into town to liven up your Monday night — which is always appreciated. They’re accompanied by Providence duo FINE. (yes, written just like that), whose buzzing riffs and strangely Stevie Nicks-ish vocals have a harsher take on some subtly strong melodies. With local brilliance from Warrington and Hot Spit kicking this one off, we’re guaranteed to have a good time with this one.

Tuesday, April 9, 8 PM
Sinmara, Suffering Hour, Voarm @ Wonderland – $10
Is Wonderland the new Strange Matter? I ask because, for a long time, Strange Matter was the go-to for early-weeknight sets from touring bands that were either just starting to make their names or long-running legends you’d never expect to see in Richmond. For a while, no one was filling that gap, and our Mondays and Tuesdays were worse for it. But just in the past couple of weeks, I’ve started noticing shows like that popping up more and more often at Wonderland. And let me just say, if they’re going to become the new early-weeknight go-to for excellent live bands we otherwise might not see in town, I for one am stoked about it.

This show is particularly fascinating, being the sort of metal show that would have happened in Strange Matter but is now taking place in Shockoe Bottom. One wonders if it could even gather both the downtown metalheads with the Bottom-dwelling headbangers and bring true unity to Richmond’s metal scene once more. That’s a heavy responsibility for killer Icelandic black-metal trio Sinmara to undertake, but as long as they lay us flat with more of the windswept metal brutality they dish out on their latest killer full-length slab, Hvisl Stjarnanna, which just dropped last month… well, I don’t think anyone is going to complain. Prepare for a musical onslaught of epic proportions… and keep your eye on Wonderland. They might have more like this in the near future. Wouldn’t that be great?

Bonus Hampton Roads Picks:

Friday, April 5, 8 PM
Inferior Brain Power, Tornado Bait, Brian Mann @ Taphouse Grill – $5
Hah, OK. Well, I can’t say I know that much about Inferior Brain Power — in fact, the first time I heard of this duo, which hails from somewhere in the DC/NoVA area, was when I found the event invite for this show on Facebook. But I couldn’t help looking into any band who is holding an 8-track release show, and now here we are. You young whippersnappers might wonder what an 8-track even is, but let me tell you, unlike a lot of other dead formats that have experienced minor revivals in recent years, this one is not worth looking into. If Inferior Brain Power is sincerely attempting to kickstart an 8-track revival with their new EP (and I have my doubts), it’s doomed to fail.

That said, I admire their chutzpah, and a listen to the album they’ll be releasing on 8-track, We Read Books, leads me to do so even more. Originally released last fall on standard cassettes, I’m glad to know this album is available in a more conventionally playable format, especially since it’s such a hard thing to describe. Pere Ubu jamming with They Might Be Giants? A Dead Milkmen album produced by Tim And Eric? It’s not your typical indie record, and that makes sense, because Inferior Brain Power aren’t your typical indie band, by any means. If you are one of the fourteen or so hoarders left on the planet with a working 8-track player, you should definitely go to this show and pick up a copy of We Read Books. The rest of you should just go enjoy the show. It’s certainly not going to be anything like anything else you’ve seen in this column lately, and if you ask me, that’s reason enough.

Monday, April 8, 7 PM
Eyehategod (Photo by Albert Licano), The Obsessed, Antiseen, Slaghead, Night Hag @ RiffHouse Pub – $20 in advance/$25 at the door (order tickets HERE)
Wow, this one is big. A triple-headliner bill featuring three of the most legendary collections of repropbates to ever play loud, heavy, anti-social music in America, all on one stage. People are gonna come out of the woodwork for this one, so if you want to be part of it, you better score your tickets now. You’re gonna want ’em, and not just because Eyehategod is at the top of this bill. The pioneers of NOLA sludge-blues swamp metal, these guys have been laying down pulverizing grooves full of sketchy spookiness for 30-plus years now, and neither drug busts nor liver transplants nor even death has put a stop to them.

But the Eyehategod train is not the only one that miraculously keeps rolling after many decades — The Obsessed can make a similar claim, even if their history isn’t quite as checkered as fellow DC doom-metal pioneers Pentagram. Forming at the dawn of the 80s, they’ve repeatedly broken up and reunited, currently on their third overall incarnation. Don’t let that intimidate you, though — doom-metal living legend Scott “Wino” Weinrich is still fronting the trio, and their 2017 album, Sacred, shows that they can still bring that Black Sabbath/Blue Cheer sludge groove like no one else. Last but certainly not least, we’ve got Antiseen, a punk rock group unlike any other, who hail from North Carolina and have at times made even Poison Idea look like upright citizens. Their latest release, Dying Breed, features a ton of covers including one of White Cross’s “Jump Up,” for you old-school VA hardcore heads. But it’s Antiseen’s classic originals, which somehow bring a Southern-rock feel to raging 80s punk sounds, that you’ll really be down for, assuming you enjoy some seriously antisocial sounds. And honestly, if you don’t, you might want to skip this one. Because I can promise one thing — it’s gonna get crazy. You’ve been warned.

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Email me if you’ve got any tips for me about upcoming shows (that take place after the week this column covers -– this week’s column has obviously already been written): [email protected]

Music Sponsored By Graduate Richmond

RVA Shows You Must See This Week: 8/16-8/22

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FEATURED SHOW
Friday, August 18, 8 PM
Bad Magic, Big Huge, Candy Spots, Kid Claws @ Strange Matter – $5 in advance/$7 day of show (order tickets HERE)
Jet Trails Music is becoming a more powerful force in the local live music community by the week, and I for one am here for it! There are a whole bunch of booking agencies in this town who have a solid reputation in their respective genres, but JTM is straddling the line between indie and more jammed-out alt-rock with aplomb. I find that any show they do is generally a solid night out, and this rad Friday night lineup at Strange Matter is no exception. It came together pretty recently, at least if the release of the facebook event page is any indication, but I’m glad they were able to get this happening, and especially at Strange Matter, who’ve been the most consistent spot for rad live music here in RVA for a good decade at least.

Bad Magic comes back home to us after a short jaunt up the East Coast, taking their excellent sounds to the world. They’re still going strong from the power of their most recent release, Harsh Surrender, which came out on cassette from Trrrrash Records earlier this year. That’s a logical pairing, considering Trrrrash (I probably always put the wrong amount of R’s in this name) is owned by Bad Magic bassist Tim Falen. It’s frontwoman Julie Karr that provides the fuel making this band’s sound so distinctive and memorable, though. Her lyrics dig deep into tough times and hard feelings, which pair well with the group’s rumbling grunge jangle. The fact that a song on Harsh Surrender borrows lyrics from a Jason Molina song only further underlines the emotional territory this band is staking out.

Bad Magic definitely have a haunting effect on the listener, but NYC band Big Huge has a totally different feel, albeit one that sticks just as hard. Their tough, sassy power pop is full of catchy choruses and upbeat rhythms to get you dancing around with a big grin on your face. Bad Magic may be hometown heroes, but Big Huge is the best new discovery you’ll make at this show, for sure. The lineup this night is rounded out by two psych powerhouses from right here in VA; the relatively new Kid Claws, who hail from the DC suburbs and like to get hazy with the distortion but still now how to rock, and local up and comers The Candy Spots, who have a bit more of a garage-y vibe and can definitely get your feet moving.

Wednesday, August 16, 9 PM
Decide Today, Prison Religion, R-Complex, With Sympathy @ Comm Room – $5 donation requested
My roommates have a poster for this band on the wall outside my room; it looks down on me every time I walk back from the bathroom. Its distinctive art and intense political agitprop made me curious about the band before I had any idea who they were. Now they’re coming to town and living up to all of my expectations. Honestly, when you live in a punk house, you tend to expect all the bands on your roommates’ posters to sound pretty similar. Rather than dishing out the sort of crusty, metallic punk that is the usual punkhouse poster fare, though, Decide Today devote their energies towards harsh programmed breakcore beats of the sort that got Atari Teenage Riot so much attention back in the late 90s. “Digital hardcore” was an appropriate genre hybrid for that band in their prime, and it’s also a really great way to describe what Decide Today are doing. And with songs like “Against White Supremacy,” “I Don’t Eat Flesh,” and “Strong Hearts Can’t Be Caged,” it’s clear this band has a purpose and a mission, and isn’t afraid to scream about it.

Local experimental hip hop project Prison Religion makes an excellent pairing with Decide Today, so it’s great to see them on this bill. The typical comparison points for hip hop groups making really harsh, noisy music tend to be B L A C K I E, or Death Grips, but Prison Religion have a significantly stranger and more intense sound than either of those projects. Expect powerful beats at the root of their music, but overtop of those beats, harsh screams and strange atonal noise are much more likely to appear than the funk-descended grooves and powerfully delivered raps you might expect from a hip hop group. It’s always nice to hear people doing something new with the form, though, especially when it’s this intense and politically informed. The evening’s program will be rounded out by industrial-noise project R-Complex and the more gothic industrial sounds of With Sympathy. Bring your earplugs for this one.

Thursday, August 17, 8 PM
Ex Eye, Bermuda Triangles, Dumb Waiter @ Strange Matter – $10 in advance/$12 day of show (order tickets HERE)
Getting this event invitation was my first introduction to Ex Eye, and boy did I feel stupid for not having picked up on them before. Any project that brings together avant-garde saxophonist Colin Stetson, whose 2013 LP New History Warfare Vol. 3: To See More Light was one of my favorites of that year, and drummer Greg Fox, whose work in the brilliant New York black metal group Liturgy has consistently blown me away, is something I should’ve been up on way before now. So hey, if these guys were on your radar before they were on mine, consider me duly embarrassed. For the rest of you, let’s cop a latepass together and head down to Strange Matter to experience the full force of this combo’s incredible talent.

In addition to Stetson and Fox, Ex Eye includes Chicago experimental guitarist Toby Summerfield and former Marc Ribot’s Ceramic Dog keyboardist Shahzad Ismaily, so the lineup is truly stacked. And the results they come up with are phenomenal on their self-titled debut, released a couple months ago on Relapse. Stetson’s incredible sax work takes center stage, but the outstanding drumming Fox showed off in Liturgy is very much present–complete with the occasional much-vaunted “burst beat”–and the riffs laid down by the band underneath all the dramatic instrumental fireworks are rock-solid fuel for full-on headbangs. With percussion-driven experimental postpunk veterans Bermuda Triangles and avant-jazz/metal instrumental quartet Dumb Waiter opening this evening up, it looks like this will be a night full of consistently mindblowing sound. Get ready.

Friday, August 18, 8 PM
Venomspitter, Charmer, Accident Prone, High Priest, Van Hagar @ Comm Room – $5 donation requested
Sometimes a show doesn’t have to be a big huge important deal. Sometimes it’s just a good opportunity to hang out with your friends and rock out. In that spirit, Venomspitter singer Travis Downey is throwing a big ol’ rockin’ party over at Comm Room this Friday night to celebrate his birthday. Thankfully, his friends all seem to be in rad bands, just like he is. That’s always nice! Of course, anyone who has a band wants their band to play their birthday show (that’s sure how it always was with me), so you can expect a powerful set from Venomspitter on this evening. They’ve had some lineup shakeups over the last little while–Travis actually used to play guitar in the band, for one thing–but they’re still as hard-hitting and full of intense hardcore fury as ever, so don’t expect them to be mellowing or anything.

Along with Venomspitter, you can also expect a full-speed-ahead set from Charmer, who manage to both be hyperspeed power-violence and heavy-as-fuck hardcore, as they demonstrate on the recent preview of their soon-to-be-released split with Amara. These guys are gonna rip your face off at a thousand miles an hour and it’ll be the best road rash you’ve ever had in your life. High Priest are coming from much the same place as the previous two bands we’ve discussed, but with maybe a bit more A389-style D-beat crust in the mix. Accident Prone have some of that chaotic tech-blast metalcore thing going on that seems to have faded from the picture since Dillinger Escape Plan got all proggy–it’s nice to run into some pure exponents of that sick shit for a change. And of course, my lovely roommates in Van Hagar will be there to deliver you some furious grindcore that has no resemblance to 5150 (which is still an awesome album, don’t get me wrong). The show is a benefit for Sophie House, providing support to single mothers with young children, so in lieu of cash, donations of food and clothing will also be accepted. Come help out, then rock out!

Saturday, August 19, 7 PM
Big Mama Shakes, Landon Elliott, Tigerman WOAH, Sid Kinglsey @ The Broadberry – $10 in advance/$12 day of show (order tickets HERE)
I will freely admit that I’m not the typical audience for an indie-inflected 21st century version of a Southern rock band. Therefore, it’s probably no surprise that I haven’t made it to a Big Mama Shakes show just yet. At the same time, every time I check this band out online, I find myself thinking that I should go ahead and take the plunge at some point. There’s no denying it–this band is a lot of fun. They’ve got some kickass catchy tunes that owe a good deal more to Exile-era Rolling Stones via Uncle Tupelo than they do to the Southern stuff from the 70s that kinda makes me cringe sometimes (although the truth is Drive-By Truckers have largely managed to rehabilitate even that full-on Skynyrd sound for me… but I digress).

Last year’s If I Try EP in particular grabs my attention. Uptempo rocker “Weight Of A Heavy Heart” definitely does it for me as a rather heavy-hearted girl myself. “Magnolia”‘s lovelorn midtempo sound, complete with horn accents, is evocative of moments we’ve all been through on late nights with too few people around. Big Mama Shakes have become a reliable crowd-drawer at the Broadberry in recent months, so too few people around is definitely not a worry you’ll have if you come check them out this Saturday night. Neither is hearing a bad song, because from what I can tell, this band doesn’t have any. And as an avowed metalhead, that’s saying something coming from me.

Sunday, August 20, 3 PM
Vvuumm, HeadlessMantis, Recluse Raccoon, Paul Ivey @ Hardywood – Free!
Get to Hardywood early this Sunday afternoon if you wanna catch some of the best rockin’ sounds this city’ll be witness to this weekend. Because let me tell ya, this whole event is gonna be wrapping up by about 6 PM, and you don’t want to miss a minute of it. Our co-headliners, vvuumm and HeadlessMantis, are celebrating the release of their new split tape, TRRRASHCRYSTALRADIO (I copy-pasted this so it better be the right amount of R’s this time), which will contain live sets from each band recorded live on Paul Ivey’s WRIR show, Time Is Tight.

vvuumm has a spaced-out psychedelic sound with some punk energy underneath the surface, while HeadlessMantis mix gutbucket blues with raw garage-rock rage. Both bands are at their best in a live environment, so this tape is pretty much the ideal way to listen to them… other than going to this show, of course. You’ll also get opening sets from local stalwarts Recluse Raccoon and the man himself, Paul Ivey. This will be an entertaining afternoon from beginning to end, and with the admission price certainly being nice, and the refreshments on tap all around, you’re sure to have a lovely time. Don’t linger too long over brunch–you’ll have occasion to regret it.

Monday, August 21, 5 PM
Decapitated, Thy Art Is Murder, Fallujah, Ghost Bath, Deathsinger @ The Canal Club – $20 in advance (order tickets HERE)
I feel like every time Polish death metal legends Decapitated come to town, I write in this column about how you should go see them. And I will rationalize this fact by saying that you should go see Decapitated every time they come to town! Having originally caught my attention back in the early 2000s with incredibly sick offerings like Nihility and Organic Hallucinosis, the band has remained a favorite for me for over a decade, despite the tragic loss of their founding drummer to an auto accident and a lengthy break afterwards (for understandable reasons). This year, they’re back again with their seventh album, Anticult, which is just as full of technically precise, brutally crushing death riffs as any of their previous molten slabs. They still shred hard, they still hit the sick breakdowns as hard as possible, they still get your head banging just as hard as ever… Decapitated have stayed consistent for a very long time now, and whether their evening of rage this Monday night at Canal Club would be your first or fifth time seeing them, you are still extremely well advised to make it out.

Decapitated are joined on this bill by quite a few other heavy hitters with challenging-to-decipher logos, most importantly Aussie deathcore pounders Thy Art Is Murder. Deathcore can get a bit monotonous in less-than-capable hands, but Thy Art Is Murder distinguish themselves from the pack with distinctive riffs and plentiful tempo shifts, saving the nosebleed-inducing downtuned breakdowns until they will have the most possible effect. The show will also feature some homegrown acts from the good ol’ US of A, including Fallujah, who one assumes picked their name to evoke the brutality of the Iraq war but actually tend to have somewhat of a proggy edge if anything. Then there’s Ghost Bath, the members of which are apparently some of the very few Americans still living in North Dakota. Fitting with that state’s frozen wastelands, they have some moody black metal touches to their oddly emotional shredding. These guys are honestly my sleeper pick for the whole opening slate. VA Beach’s Deathsinger gets things going well before the sun goes down, so head over as soon as you’re off work. You don’t wanna miss a minute.

Tuesday, August 22, 6 PM
Eyehategod, Negative Approach, Suppression, Dead And Dreaming, Gritter @ The Broadberry – $20 in advance/$25 day of show (order tickets HERE)
I also feel like every time New Orleans sludge legends Eyehategod come to town I end up recommending in this column that you go see them, but honestly, that’s at least somewhat due to their tendency to bring incredible touring partners with them to town. That said, Eyehategod are certainly not to be taken for granted or skipped out early on, by any means. The band’s most recent self-titled album was the last to feature founding drummer Joey LaCaze, who passed away shortly after recording the album. However, Eyehategod has remained a solid live presence in the years since, and have proved as much in their last couple of Richmond appearances. They’re still the first name in bleak, swampy sludge metal, and if you care at all about the million doom metal bands who’ve enveloped the metal scene over the past decade, you really need to give some attention to the originators.

But yeah, those touring partners. Can you believe Eyehategod comes to us this year paired with hardcore legends Negative Approach? I mean, holy crap, right? As with Eyehategod singer Mike IX Williams, Negative Approach vocalist John Brannon has remained at the top of his game for decades now. Hell, if anything this dude is angrier and scarier than he was in the 80s. Other than a Sham 69 cover on a compilation, the band hasn’t released anything new since 2010 EP Friends Of No One, but hey, who really cares? We’re all going to hear “Nothing” and “Whatever I Do” anyway, and that’s what we’re gonna get. Quit the shit, start the pit! Incredibly long-running weirdo-grind duo Suppression will also be on this show, which is a sweet score even if they are local. With openers Dead And Dreaming and Gritter further representing the double-tough hardcore and downbeat swamp metal scenes of RVA, this show is jam-packed.

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Email me if you’ve got any tips for me about upcoming shows (that take place after the week this column covers–this week’s column has obviously already been written): [email protected] [the rvamag address isn’t working for some reason, I’m looking into it!]

GWAR-B-Q 2016: RVA’s favorite shitshow reminded us metal runs on blood and heart

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This year’s GWAR B-Q was a certified shit show, a sweaty, grimy gathering of filthy (but friendly) bohabs and metalheads all indulging in one thing or another during the most anticipated RVA Saturday of the summer.

It was a day where fans were drenched in fake blood, splattered by cosmic green jizz, and battered in the many mosh pits, and they loved every minute of it. In retrospect, what got me through that near-cloudless, 90 degree weather day wasn’t responsible hydration, but rather the collective energy and excitement that oozed from the pores of other GWAR B-Q goers… and alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

The morning started off like any normal day – I woke up early and hungover from B4BQ the night before, finished off a bottle of El Jimador with a friend and cracked a beer. It was a good, sensible start to what I knew would be a full day of drinking and debauchery. With my trusty smartphone and digital voice recorder, I had the tools to remember what the booze would make me forget. Good fortune had granted us a designated driver, and by 11:00 am we were in the muddy, overgrown field that was Hadad’s Lake parking lot, where surly looking people were crushing cheap beers before the clock had even struck noon. It was time to rage.

After wisely applying sunscreen, we took a bare-bones shuttle bus with no AC to the water park, got some drink tickets and started boozing. I started with a bloody mary, a truly awful concoction that the bartender had kindly (or mischievously) made overpowering, filling at least half of it with GWAR’s own vodka. Once we had our first drinks in hand, we were ready to face the music, mischief, and whatever else GWAR B-Q had in store for us.

The first thing we checked out was the very end of Eat The Turnbuckle’s set, where we found ourselves stuffed into a crowded little pavilion with other sweaty degenerates. The band was an intimidating sight: a bunch of large, tattooed and half-naked men with a penchant for real violence – only amongst themselves, thankfully. To give you an idea of their sound, they play a self-proclaimed brand of “ultra-violence” music, an interesting mix of violent death metal and professional wrestling. While I didn’t get to witness any onstage wrestling (which I’ve heard utilizes Mexican wrestling masks), their short, intense final songs inspired crowd surfing in the small enclosure, and by the end of their performance, the band had their own blood covering their faces. Yeah, they were some hardcore motherfuckers.

With the sun beaming down in full force by this point, we caught American Nightmare on the Scumdog Stage, an influential old school hardcore band formed in Boston in the 90’s. Their one-armed singer was a notable presence, with his high energy antics pumping up the crowd and his sharp screams evoking cheers. Though I was on the outskirts of the crowd, the dust cloud I saw in the middle of it (one of many that day) was a clear indicator that there was moshing going on. This should have been a premonition, but I was concentrated on getting down the hell juice they told me was a bloody mary.

When we realized it was almost 12:50, we hauled ass over to the beer tent to restock our booze. I had to take a photo with the gigantic PBR can man, as I generally only see normal-sized ones, and then we hauled ass over to August Burns Red (seen below), a band which I knew little about.

My friends were stoked to see them, but all I knew was that they were a metalcore band. We found ourselves situated near the side of the stage, next to a suspiciously open space in the middle of the crowd. Why would people knowingly leave all that room, instead of getting closer to the stage? I found out about five minutes later, when August Burns Red exploded into their first song, “Empire.” My god. The mosh pit never died down the entire forty minute set, and though I kept a watchful eye on the bodies that were being shoved around, my attention was focused on the music. They had an explosive, badass set, and the band members were all impressively technically proficient on their instruments. It was head banging inducing, with the sweat-soaked singer swinging his mic around like some kind of metalcore lasso.

The people near me were interesting to watch: One girl was missing at least three teeth, one guy got decked in the face and laughed about it, one dude had a “Legalize Murder” shirt; these were seasoned veterans of the mosh pit. By the end of the set, blood had been spilt, and I left with one clear impression: August Burns Red is fucking sick.

The Dillinger Escape Plan was next, and it held some very unexpected things for us. I found out from someone in the crowd that their singer’s flight was cancelled, and that he wouldn’t be present. Well, that sucks, I thought, but I’m sure they’ve got someone to fill his shoes. His replacement was not another vocalist, however, but a baritone saxophone player (seen below, left), imitating the singer’s growls with the sax the entire set.

I found this absolutely hilarious and insanely cool at the same time. It was those kinds of unpredictable moments on the road that likely inspired the writers for Spinal Tap, I thought.

The music was relentless and heavier than lead, and the band was amped up like they had snorted a pile of cocaine Scarface style. The guitarist climbed on the unstable equipment and incited the crowd to get even crazier. But the best part, and one of the most memorable moments of GWAR B-Q for me, happened during the last few songs.

The band brought up a long-haired guy from the crowd, and he screamed with them with such skill that the crowd went nuts. I thought they had surely planned beforehand for this guy to perform with them – but I found out that was not the case at all. It turns out that he was a diehard fan who couldn’t stand the fact that the singer wasn’t going to make it, and man did he make a great replacement.

I met up with the guy, Dylan Shane Lawson (seen below), after the set, fighting through the awed people surrounding him to have a chat.

“They’re one of my absolute favorite bands,” Lawson said, “and when I saw that they didn’t have Greg I was like, ‘What the fuck, man!’ I took my ticket and my sharpie marker, and wrote on it, ‘I know all your songs, please let me play.’ Next thing I know, Ben’s like, come on up here. I don’t want to sound like I had some sort of supernatural experience, but it’s not every day you get to sing for one of your favorite bands! I’ve never felt more alive in my life.”

It was a very touching moment, and it was still early in the day, barely 2:00 pm. Beneath all the sweat, grime, crushed PBR cans and joints, GWAR B-Q had a big heart. It wasn’t about getting fucked up from day drinking – though that was certainly an appeal – but about the music that people loved, music that was a very important part of their lives.

For many of the fans, the GWAR B-Q was responsible for memories they would never forget, some as unreal as getting onstage with one of your favorite bands and absolutely killing it. As I mused on this, I remembered day drinking was an appeal, and got another brew.

Eyehategod, featuring Phil Anselmo of Pantera fame, was one of the bands that were highly anticipated. Asking numerous people who they were excited to see, Eyehategod was on the list every time, so of course I was excited too.

Eyehategod had a very Sabbath-inspired sound, with slow, sludgy riff-driven songs that Anselmo meshed perfectly with. It was right up my alley, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Anselmo harassed the crowd in good fun, asking, “You having a good time at this cocksuckin’ motherfucker?” And barely a half hour from the touching moment where a fan sang with one of his favorite bands, came another heartwarming moment: Phil gave Jesus a hug, and then told him to get the fuck out.

A fan dressed as J.C. came up onstage and headbanged to the music, filled with the spirit of sludge and clearly choosing to ignore the name of the band. It was a memorable moment for everyone in the crowd, drawing laughs, cheers and jeers. After a short time onstage, Jesus went back into the hellbound crowd to rock out. What a guy! Anselmo strapped on a guitar for the last song, told SJWs to fuck themselves, and that was that.

Another beer and I was feeling good, good enough to venture into the dark green waters that looked suspiciously like GWAR slime, waters I had sworn I would not enter. I had heard stories from past GWAR B-Qs – someone puked in it, a dude was bleeding out in it – but I had consumed enough alcohol to not give a shit. We took a break from the music to drink more, grab a bite, and hurl ourselves from the rope swing into a dangerously shallow part of the water that would have safety inspectors pulling their hair out.

The infamous Blob was present, but I didn’t feel like signing a waiver to experience it. I had a great time in that unnaturally dark green water, and I don’t want to know what was in it.

I met GWAR fans old an new that day. One such fan had been going every year since day one, when it was held at the Bike Lot seven years ago, and I was fortunate enough to speak with him before I became entrapped in the crowd of people surging to see the main attractions.

Justin Laughter, from Richmond, told me about the history of Gwar B-Q and how far the event had come since its early days.

“Gwar B-Q started out over a decade, fifteen years ago, as sort of a friends and family party,” Laughter said. “It’s amazing to see where the festival has gone from seven years ago at Bike Lot to here now, with the two stages. Hell, they filled in half the lake to make this happen. Hadad’s actually made structural improvements to host the festival.”

We met some cool people by the pool and were having so much fun, we didn’t realize how much time had flown by. GWAR was coming on in minutes, and I was out of drink tickets. We quickly hauled ass, pounded drinks (another bloody mary – why!?), and pushed into the crowd to get a good look at GWAR.

They were every bit as awesome as I had expected.

They were on point musically, and I still have no idea how they played so well in those bulky costumes. The saws came out and hacked off limbs, and blood spurted out into the crowd relentlessly.

Repeatedly, people from the crowd retreated with a hilariously traumatized look on their faces, covered in green slime and fake blood. The best moment was when GWAR pitted presidential candidates Hillary and Donald Trump against one another, their twisted version of a debate that was more akin to a deathmatch. Trump ended up getting his head cut off by Hillary, and drenched the crowd with his billionaire blood.

The final act of the evening, and the most anticipated, was Lamb of God. At long last they were taking the stage, and the drunk and high denizens of the GWAR B-Q shuffled and pushed as close as they could get to the stage. Most people there were without a doubt most excited to see Lamb of God, and had waited all day for this moment. They showed their appreciation by firing up another crazy mosh pit, one that I was once again dangerously close to.

Like August Burns Red, the moshing never ended during the 75-minute set, and expanded nearly all the way to the front of the stage. “Engage The Fear Machine” was responsible for plenty of injuries in the pit, and “Walk With Me in Hell” garnered a great crowd response, and I couldn’t help drunkenly air guitaring and banging my head. Everyone around me was suitably hammered – one woman gave me a funny, trying-to-be-coy sort of look and put my cigarette to her lips, still in my hand. I don’t speak gibberish, so I really have no idea what she said to me.

I thoroughly blew out my voice cheering for the most anticipated group of the festival, a group that, being from Richmond, were the prime candidates to end the night. Their melodic but heavy, speedy riffs were a perfect end to what had been a hell of a day. They ended with their classic, fan-favorite “Laid to Rest”, leaving the rabid fans cheering, screaming and circling violently in the mosh pit.

Was GWAR B-Q everything I expected? Yes, but it was more than that. There was a sense of community and oneness I hadn’t anticipated. We were all in it together, day drinking and hitting shitty joints, headbanging to the many great acts, catching new diseases in the lake and sharing in each other’s fun.

I had always known that the metal scene in Richmond was tight-knit and close, yet accepting of everyone and GWAR B-Q drove it home for me. Throughout the entire day, I saw no altercations or disagreements, no negativity, only people a great time at the festival they’d waited an entire year for. I’m one of those people now, and I’ll be waiting patiently until next summer, when I get to experience GWAR B-Q again.