Despite being technically on call, I made my way in for this, because 1) Morne; 2) nobody called during the period of maximum danger; and 3) if I stayed in the house, I'd continue to subject myself to a risky and fattening food experiment that will be detailed in a future post. Regardless, T in, T over, and then some time killed sitting around on the sidewalk, as the club didn't open up the doors when they allegedly said they would.
Doors did come a little after 1, and, ensconcing myself somewhere that I wouldn't get in the way of the bands loading in, I tucked into a plate of BLT and fries and a couple Gansett porters. Dark beer, meat, bread, and veg, and the damp chill of midday as the bands get set up; like I'm getting started on Party.San a couple months early. This meal set is seriously recommended for other people at Church for day shows; no doubt the rest of the brunch menu is cooked to the same standards of quality, but this sandwich is also a bargain on volume at $7, and the beer's in a container that won't injure anyone if you end up accidentally bouncing it off the floor later.
Presently, the bands started up; Nachzehrer first due to some external commitments.
Built mostly out of new material (seriously, look up the new stuff on the band's various social-media and other sites, the new record is going to be killer), this was a solid set that was probably limited a little by the early hour and drummer fatigue -- between Nachzehrer and InTheShit, Alex had done, when this set wrapped, four sets of blastbeat-heavy material in 36 hours. Going forward, endurance and quick turnarounds are going to be important for the band, but that kind of workload's ridiculous and not to be anticipated. Exhaustion and opening slot aside, this was still a quality performance of black metal vitriol to go with the crust-death, doomcore, and sludge-death hateblasts on the remainder of the bill.
This was a day show, so there was Serie A on the TVs, AC Cagliari. In this break, the game started, and the Isolani got an excellent chance through, but the forward with the ball stopped with it rather than one-touching it at goal. That's how you place 11th, idiots: not shooting at AC Milan when they hand you a golden opportunity on a plate. This is a legitimate reason for swearing at the TV for five minutes straight, even in a game between two teams you don't care about, rather than another sad symptom of the unquenchable rage tap.
Blood of the Gods [5.5/7]
Another sharp but not transcendent set, this was a step up from the last time I saw the band, and a little more easily identifiable as crust from the increased prominence of punkier elements. This set, like Nachzehrer's (and, actually, all of the openers), felt a little short, but it was pretty class all the same; looking forward to seeing these guys again, but I'm not exactly 100% sure on when that's going to be.
BOTG wrapped after about 25-30 minutes, and the fitba was at 3-0 for the home side at about 36 minutes in. Genarro fucking Gattuso was on the scoresheet. This is what happens when you don't pull the fucking trigger against the big clubs.
Now Denial [5.5/7]
Continuing the punkward swing, these guys set out a decent set of doom-rock obviously more grounded in hardcore than the metal that provided the base for the other overlapping bands on the bill. Despite the tangential North Shore connection (the guy listed in the liner notes of their Fuck 12" as a member for "Immoral Support" is a friend of friends and, more importantly up here where parochialism is everything, from my town), I'm not sure that I'd go seeking this band out, based on the style they play, the bands they usually play with, and the general direction of my interests, but they did a good job here and put up some pretty class music.
Having heard Now Denial, I went and picked up the aforementioned record and did merch generally, getting a CD from Morne and a patch basically free from BOTG for buying some Appalachian Terror Unit and After The Bombs material off their distro.
Morne, as anticipated, completely crushed. Dark floods of graveling sludge, death and and grind melted down into a suffocating paste of aural violence. They may not play out so often, but performances like this definitely make it worth the while. A night show might have had a different feel, but this set on a dismal, grey afternoon hit the spot just about exactly. Full on killer.
Things having closed up, I started hiking back into the transit system, and eventually back to the north. I wasn't completely recovered for this show, and knock-ons from this (and the stresses of the on-call stand) essentially knocked me out for the end of the week following; I missed Summoning Hate, Bone Ritual, and Defeated Sanity (to endless regret) on three succeeding nights. Nocturnal is tomorrow...and then I go camping at the weekend, and probably miss Revocation in fucking Foxboro the night before.