Recommending Two Songs While Raising My Hands to the Sky post-Roadburn But the Sky is Empty AKA A review of the Last Day At Roadburn

PART I: THE DAY

I know rambling, incoherent "music journalism must be your thing and if that's the case here are installments one and two of my Roadburn "journey."

In a weekend defined by being overwhelmed, overjoyed, depressed, alone, triumphant, downtrodden, and mostly thankful this last day would prove to be the most steamrolling of them all. May have been the fact that it was the last day, that I was living out my dream, that my dream was as dreamt, and that it was about to be over, and also may have been the fact that the incredible performances just kept on coming.

I went ahead and started at the Festival Q&A with Walter, which was much more, shall we say, candid and informative that I would have guessed. Then again, being at the tail end of such a monumental, year-long emotional and physical challenge might serve as a kind of truth serum. Either way, Walter and Becky were funny, smart, and admirably human amid this colossus they have erected. I think therein lies the secret sauce to much of what goes down in this place, that the people running it are good people. Which, as a side note, is why more good people should be running things. The bad people, if we ever needed a reminder of that, are always happy to run everything. Less of them, more of this.

Oh, fun fact: I met two vert nice gentleman, on of which I had complimented for his Container Ships shirt. Turns out his job is to drive ships. Can't make that shit up.

I then quite rudely cut the Q&A short to make sure I was front and center for my second time seeing Krallice (what a thing to be saying, what a thing I just wrote down), with a set focused on their "flipped" era, post-Crystalline Exhaustion, wherein Nick plays guitar, Nick's on bass, and Colin seems to be seated in a 1978 sci-fi vision of the future, with a mic. 

My Review of the Krallice Show: I said this already post the previous performance, but Krallice is and will go down as one of the most storied metal acts off all time. Not a bad song, not a bad note, always bold, always interesting, and always five laps ahead of the competition. But, having said that, and this might be my advanced age talking here, there's a lot to be said to (relative) simplicity or the (relative) simplicity of the present-era Krallice that served as the focus of this setlist. And listening to their Pink Floyd-meets-Krautrock black metal solidified my own personal feeling that this is the band's best era. 

It was an absolute pleasure and a privilege to see master of their craft at work. And maybe it's the years of talking to artists that has taken away my ability to be really starstruck but seeing Mick Barr was for me like seeing Mozart in the flesh. I actually don't like Mozart much, so Ligeti. What a joy.

I came out of that mesmerized. I learned my lesson, again, not to fall into the trap of running to see another show once an amazing show just occurred, and I knew in the back of my mind I had Inter Arma doing The Cavern soon, so I paced myself. I conversed with my friends Noam and James about the wonders of whatever it was, I accosted Walter to say thank you, and I probably peed. I also got into the Primitive Man show just for a bit, and the bit I saw was unreal. I really regretted having to cut it short, but I had Inter Arma on my mind. Also had the joy of finally meeting my buddy Lev (Lev, you're my buddy now) along with the instantly likable human wonderfulness that's John of Woe/Glorious Depravity. 

Meeting Lev was significant also because, as long-time readers of this show may now, Lev is one of those rare connective ligaments between myself and the great, wonderful, Drew Hays, may his soul always be listening to Krallice. Drew was my friend, a reader of this blog, and a brilliant artist who released a perfect EP of black metal with Lev way back when under the name God's Bastard. I was happy and honored to be Drew's champion – reviews, interviews, getting the band on the compilations not only because he was such a transcendent spirit but because he was great. I miss him a lot, think of him all the time, and  getting some time in the middle of Roadburn to work a small piece of that out with Lev was very significant to me. Also because Lev fucking rules. 

So, having performed the little grief work I could I entered the fray and readied myself to The Cavern:

My Review of Inter Arma doing The Cavern: This is going to be a complicated one. The Cavern, as long-time Inter Arma fans might know, is probably Inter Arma's best album. Yes, it's "one song," yes you don't just "throw it on." But every time you do throw it on is pulls you in and never lets go, a masterpiece of moods, dynamics and that one motherfucking riff, you know what I'm talking about. First time I got to see Inter Arma was in a pretty tiny club in DC, around the Paradise Gallows era. I remember seeing these beasts of men shredding the place to pieces and thinking to myself "This is like seeing Led Zeppling in a club." Now, I know Americans are funny with grandeur, and I know Americans have a profound cultural prohibition against "the big idea" or "the big work." Not to say those works don't exist – Moby Dick, for one – but even when they do exist they are constantly in their own way for the sheer guilt of having dreamt big. Inter Arma was born as a huge band, that serves a huge purpose and that makes huge music. The Cavern is them as their huge-est, and to see them play a room of that size, with so many people in the audience, and with so many moving parts on stage (another singer, a violinist, a gong, you know), just seemed right.

I'm not even talking about the performance yet, as you may have noticed, just the setup. It was the setup in which to seem them unleash the biggest version of them. And what happened, pray tell, when it was finally unleashed? In my eyes, and this is given the fact that I'm a Roadburn newbie, this was a historic performance. People in that room will speak of it in the same way people speak of seeing Neurosis in a club in 1995, or whatever legendary moment I can't think of right now because I'm tied and at the airport. It was well above and beyond a concert, it was a holistic, whole-grabbing experience the likes of which I can only compare to two of the best concerts I have ever witnessed in my Life (RATM 1997, Swans 2010). 

So, yeah, it was a nice time. And since, again, I found myself thoroughly fucked up after that show I did what any sane person would do to find some solid ground and video called my kids. Chaos, obviously, ensued on our living-room couch as they wrestled and manipulated each other to get to talk to me in what was clear – me sitting on the rail next to the 013 – that really had nothing to do with me and their need to fuck with each other. My middle son then ran out of the room crying because his big sister wouldn't let him hold her phone to talk to me. She had suspected, you see, that he would take advantage of the opportunity and fuck with her phone. I promised to her he would never dream of such a thing, and so being the lovely big sister she is she gave him the phone. And what happened when he got the phone? He put one of those face-distorted snap-chat filters and chaos ensued again, only this time they also looked ridiculous when they were fighting. I laughed so hard, I don't remember the last time I laughed so hard, I almost died, and this while my daughter is also being mad at me for so-called supporting his mischief and me swearing I think it's really not cool but she's mad at me and the filter is still on and I'm just dead laughing. 

So, yeah, Inter Arma put on one of the greatest metal shows in history, but it's possible my kids beat them.

After that mayhem and after stuffing my face with fries for the who-knows-what-time I readied myself for more soul destruction, this time from Warning:

Review of Me Seeing Warning: Recently, in writing about the new single, I said something about Warning being life music. It isn't "oh shit a new album" it's "oh shit, a new friend." And that's how I approach Warning shows or really any show with Patrick. Is it crushing? It is. Are the words beautiful? They are. Is Patrick the most approachable, relatable hurt-soul in the cosmos? He is! But the experience of the show itself isn't and will never be "holy shit that was sick." It will be meeting an old friend, a happy family reunion. And that's what it was for me.

Between Patrick the Master of Weep and the next show I was already kind of getting sad again. Re-entering the atmosphere is a hot thing, as astronauts and Mike Pike will tell you, and I was feeling the heat. I talked to some dear friends – the lovely Mor and Roy and some other guy whose name escapes me, maybe Alone? Is that a name – and made my way to my last show that was, again, a kind of getting together with friends. And that show was:

I Saw Lijkschouwer at the Skate Hall and You Didn't: Lijkschouwer and kind-sorta sister project Teardrinker were vacuumed into my soul this past year. It began with my love for the Teardrinker EP, and then getting in contact with the lovely (in fact, the loveliest) Gijs who plays drums for both (also vocals in Lijkschouwer), and then proceeded to premiering the new Lijkschouwer single on the most recent compilation as well as having Teardrinker there as well. So, they were family before I even got there. But being there at the show, a broken man, an old man, planning on chilling to the side, and then seeing Gijs and Gijs introducing me to the good people an Ontaard and Throwing Bricks, two incredible bands that I had the honor of hosting on this site a while ago, and suddenly I was up front, again, rocking out, again, and just thinking about life. About my kids, about how brilliant Lijkschouwer are, about how lucky I was to have heard them and then to have met them and the wonderful Kim and just basically everyone involved with anything having to do with these beautiful, special people. 

The show was incredible, the sense of love and community that seemed to define it was very real and very heartwarming and my heart needed warming. What really fixed me, I think, was being approached for my Ustalost shirt by the lovely Toyah, only to find out she actually knows – or, figured out – who I am and that she now only reads the crap I write but appreciates it as well. It was so, so nice of her, and so generous and just great. I can't express how much that really brings me joy, the idea that me rambling or interviewing or whatever actually matters to anyone. So, thank you Toyah. You did a very special thing.

Later, with Toyah off to see CTTBOTO, I hung out with Lijkschouwer some more as well as with Kim, who might be my new best friend, not sure, but I have a feeling they're the kind of person who everyone loves. And so I'm one of those people now, apparently. 

That's it. The deed has been done. I came to Roadburn. It happened. I can't recap, it's impossible, not only because it was awesome but because like any profound experience, one that involves not just art but people and emotions and love, the effects are only understood in time. So I'm giving myself that time. What I can say is that I am overjoyed to have met so many wonderful people, to have seen so much great art, and to have indulged in all the shit I'm not supposed to consume anymore. 

If I met you, if we talked, my experience was made possible because of you. Thank you.

Oh, and if you need unwinding music: None has a great new drone release. Check it out here.

PART II: SOME MUSIC

Nightmarer – "Hell Interface," from Hell Interface (Mathy Disso Death Metal – Independent). It took me a while to form an opinion of this new Nightmarer album, which I have found to be almost always the case with this band. But the formed opinion is: Might be my favorite releases by them, and this track my favorite track by them. Breathing space amid the manic destruction is key here, I think, and it makes for a riveting, violent listen. 

Imipolex – "Altar of Ruin" (Avantgarde Black/Death Metal – Independent). The brilliant Imipolex return with a one-off track (hopefully from a bigger release), following their magnificently weird Acts of Vulgar Piety. Every genre slapped together in a progressive blender and music that is just bursting out with spirit and creativity. And this case here, fucking violence.