Hatebreed, 3 Inches of Blood, Darque Carnival & The Makai - Live

I arrived at the show pretty late. What can I say, I needed some farmers market tamales and it was happy hour, which we all know usually turns into happy two-to-three hours. Besides, I was in no hurry. I'm not much of a metal/hardcore kinda guy these days. I pretty much stopped going to these kinds of shows the last time American Nightmare...er, I mean Give Up The Ghost played around here. I don't even know how long ago that was.

A few quick beers and I was ready for the heavy.

We managed to catch the last half of 3 Inches of Blood's set. Between the singer looking like one of the Downtown Plaza's homeless residents and the drummer's Police T-shirt (yes, Sting's Police), I was thoroughly intrigued. I found it hard to believe such an incredibly Bruce Dickinson-esque voice was coming from such a large, hairy, cut-off denim jacket clad man. I'm also convinced that he was singing about petting puppies and eating ice cream; there really is nothing to be angry about when your band is this fucking good. The musicians were tight, in that good old-fashioned metal way. The techie-ness of the drums was matched only by the insane guitar work displayed by both players. The crowd was way into it. Way too into it, even. Shirts came off that should have stayed on. Half-naked metal nerds are not as attractive as you'd imagine. Bad tattoos and sweaty dudes aside, the show continued.

I went in search of a cold Jäger shot (this was the Jagermeister tour, after all); I thought it would put me in the right mood for Hatebreed. It might have even made me want to take my shirt off and dance around with an angry expression on my face; or it might have caused a strong desire to go pump some iron. In any case, I was completely destroyed when I discovered there wasn t a drop of Jäger in the building. What? No Jäger at a Jäger-sponsored tour? Now I knew why there were so many angry white dudes running around.



I ran into former Synthesis columnist/current tattoo extraordinaire Seth Singletary who gave me a quick rundown of the first two bands:  The Makai was first. They were badass. Everyone liked them. Then Darque Carnival played. They sucked. Everyone booed. They sounded like something you d hear on Z-Rock, but they weren t as heavy and they were all like 40 years old.  While I was bummed to have missed The Makai, I was far happier to have missed a bunch of old dudes running around the stage trying to recapture their youth by playing shitty, uninspired metal riffs.

The theme from Rocky began blasting over the system, signaling the impending arrival of the evening's headliners. The crowd went nuts.

Hatebreed was Hatebreed. What more is there to say? Every song sounded the same: fast verse, a slowed chorus that featured some sort of catchy, bro-ish chant and a heavy as eff breakdown somewhere in the middle. Between songs, Jasta would spout off the typical hXc rhetoric about friends, family, having heart, courage, a brain and a dog named Toto, Dimebag Darrell, unicorns, same-sex marriages and ice cream.



I had more fun standing outside the Banshee watching fans of the band throw their bikes into the air and dance around in the middle of the intersection after the show. Cars and people: Now that's a mosh pit.

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