Well, it seems that I just can’t get enough of sold out shows lately. Yet another 3+ hours of standing butts-to-nuts with sweaty metal dudes who have absolutely no concept of the term “personal space”. Oh well, it’s Mastodon… I’ve done it before, and chances are, I’ll do it again next time around.

Surprisingly, the band have continued to stick it out at The Metro (capacity 1,100) these past few tour cycles, rather than graduate to the larger (capacity 1,300) House of Blues (and by now, you should know that if/when Mastodon do graduate to the HoB, someone else will be ghostwriting my review).

Intronaut opened this evening’s performance with a solid set of (their unique brand of) progressive sludge. I’m a fan of these guys, and was happy to finally get a chance to watch bassist Joe Lester work his magic in person. Based on the few youtube clips of I’d seen of the band, I wasn’t really expecting much in the vocal department, but they actually turned it out. The duel-vocal approach served the songs well (as did the massive knob tweaks that happened midway through the first song… come on Metro, sound check should take care of that shit). Intronaut’s setlist was very heavy on Prehistoricisms, and though I would’ve loved to hear something off Null, their brief showing did a great job satisfying my Introneeds. One thing in particular that impressed me, was the general attitude the band conveyed while onstage. No bitching at the sound guy, no heckling the crowd… just honest sincerity. A rare thing indeed.

Kylesa was up next, and though I’d listened to Time Will Fuse Its Worth a few times, I wasn’t entirely familiar with their catalog. So, it’s safe to say, I (more specifically, my ears) was not prepared for the sonic onslaught that followed for the next 45+ minutes. Kylesa are heavy as hell. Two drummers, 3 full stacks, and guitars tuned down to “who-the-fuck-knows-how-low” (and yes… for all you horn-dogs out there… a hot chick with a guitar). Good, good stuff here. Vocals could use a bit of finesse, but it’s easy to look beyond the vocals when a song like Hollow Severer is ripping your face off. I’m definitely going to have to check out their new one soon.

As previously discussed, Mastodon have come a long way these past few years (certainly since I first saw them play a Remission-heavy set in front of about 50 people at the sorely missed Fireside Bowl), and this evening’s ridiculously ambitious set showcased what the band has been up to since. I (as it seemed most of the crowd) was unaware going in, that Mastodon was planning to perform Crack the Skye in its entirety. A pleasant surprise, as the band pulled out another 10 songs from their back catalog afterwards (though it made a long night even longer… hey… I’m old and my feet hurt). In addition, Mastodon took a page from the “Neurosis Book of Live Performance” by incorporating video and synths into their set. Both of which worked very well and made an enjoyable set even more so (I probably don’t need to mention the playing was spot-on). And guess what? They closed with Hearts Alive. Yep… it ruled. Don’t be jealous. Oh wait… maybe you should be.

Justin’s Rating:

King says: “Back in my day, we didn’t need no stinkin’ video screens to entertain a crowd. Just fog machines, gothic sets, upside down crosses, skeletons, fake blood, a cape and some hairspray.”

Chris’ Review:

My previous experiences seeing Mastodon live had me looking forward to another opportunity to enjoy them at this venue, one of Chicago’s best for its size, usually considered a treat for seeing a ‘big’ band. This long night almost didn’t live up to my high expectations, but Mastodon saved it in the end. Gosh, those guys are good.

Arriving early to see Intronaut allowed us to enjoy their proficient execution of a familiar style of [progressive sludge] (thanks, Justin), but with an aggressive edge to set it apart from the mediocre masses of this genre.

Intronaut’s just-right set was followed by some technical difficulties which was then followed by Kylesa’s set. By this time the main floor of Metro was filling in but still comfortable. Kylesa’s almost straight-ahead style and two-drummer attack provided a great contrast to Mastodon, however, the effect was diminished as Kylesa’s set stretched out a bit longer than necessary.

Even more unnecessary was the interminable set change to Mastodon. As soon as Kylesa finished, the main floor packed in as the rest of this sold-out crowd arrived for the headliner. Don’t accuse me of being old and crabby for saying this, because I’ve been saying it since I was young and crabby: long set changes are a disservice to everyone (except maybe the bar). Why are we punished for actually wanting to see all the bands on the bill? I could show up a couple hours after the show starts and hear the headliner with fresh ears, but as a music lover, a chance to see an evening of well organized, thoughtfully packaged live acts is a main reason I pay the ticket price and truck my ass downtown for a show. On a weeknight, mind you. Alright, that did sound pretty old. While I’m on the old-man rant, another problem at a sold out Metro show is the time spent standing in a butts-to-nuts stress position if you want to be out from under the balconies, where the sound is usually better.

Finally, with the opening notes of Oblivion, Mastodon started their highly anticipated performance. One’s opinion of the main set would probably depend mostly on one’s opinion of Crack the Skye because that’s what they played, from beginning to end. While I like Crack the Skye overall, I think its songs do wander a little bit without hooks, which gave this live show quite a prog-rock feel; enjoyed more intellectually than viscerally. About 3/4 into the set, I had the idea that if this were Mastodon’s debut, this crowd would have lost interest much earlier. The band delivered an almost technically perfect performance as usual (to my ears a couple vocal parts of the new material weren’t quite pulled off live), but the material set the energy level of the set at a fairly subdued feel. As noted in my rant above, my personal discomfort may have had as much cause for this as the music.

After Crack the Skye was completed, Mastodon took a short break and their ‘second set’ which featured material from Blood Mountain and Leviathan (and “March of the Fire Ants“) rocked more confidently. While I may be criticizing Mastodon for taking an indulgent turn with their material, I think the epic closer, “Hearts Alive,” and the fact that I’ve looked forward to hearing it each time I’ve had the chance to see them, tells me Mastodon has earned the devotion this crowd showed.

Chris’ Rating:

King says: “Nice band, but seriously, these guys suck at concept albums. King is not impressed. And why am I not on Letterman?”

Have A Look:

Mastodon – Live at the Metro 4/30/09

Mark’s Review:

The crowd was interesting to say the least. It was an eclectic blend of “MySpace Metal” and guys that might have left their metal past go, and were searching frantically through their wardrobes for a t-shirt that said, “Hey man..I’m still pretty non-conformist!” Many of this latter group donned “Marshall” or “Zildjian” shirts, or they tried to out-metal each other by picking the “most obscure band” t-shirt they had (hence, it’s the most Dying Fetus and Nasum shirts I’ve seen at a concert). I also saw a guy with a leather Testament jacket SIGNED by Chuck Billy and Alex Skolnick (FTW!). But despite some differences, everyone in the crowd was there to see the grindcore masters Carcass return to the stage. It has been over 10 years since they last toured, and I’ve been waiting to see them since 1994. When I heard last summer that they were reuniting for some European shows, I hoped that maybe, just maybe, they might tour the states. When they announced the “Chicago-area” date, there was no way I was going to miss it. Hell, even if I lived in Gurnee I would’ve driven down! (PWNED!) Editor’s note: Touché.

Like any suburban venue, the Pearl Room in Mokena struggles to stand out against the larger, more credible Chicago concert halls. The promoters figured that in order to get fans to come out on a Sunday afternoon, they had to construct a bill that not only featured 5 opening acts, but a “second stage” that featured a wave of atrocious local acts playing rehashed and sloppy thrash metal. That being said, the Pearl Room is a great venue for metal. It has great sound, no seats, plenty of room and hot waitresses… so basically it’s the anti-House of Blues. Plus it’s near my hometown, and if it existed when I was in high school and living with my parents (or until I was 25 and STILL living with my parents), it would have been my Mecca and Valhalla all rolled into one.

After painfully tolerating the unending wave of opening acts, Carcass finally took the stage. Fill-in drummer Daniel Erlandsson started into Inpropagation, and suddenly I wasn’t 31 years old anymore. Despite my leased SUV and iPhone, I was transformed back to that nerdy, high school metalhead that was obsessed with Heartwork and Necroticism. Jeff Walker, Bill Steer and Michael Amott delivered in every way. The solos, the voice, and riff upon riff were all there as they blasted through classics such as Carnal Forge, Pyosified, Corporal Jigsore Quandary and Embodiment. Walker was hilarious in between songs with his dry British stage-banter, and because Steer was unable to sing most of his parts, he carried the load vocally. He sounded awesome, and the extra touches of reverb and delay produced some truly unbelievable screams. To every wankers delight, the guitarists added their own flair by exaggerating the squeals and bends to many of the Heartwork tunes… it was unnecessary, but so damn cool.

Everything about the show was a dream come true, the setlist, the venue and their performance. It was truly a return to power, and for me and many others a return to my youth. So I think this review will be an easy one:

Mark’s Rating:

King says: “Seeing Carcass play or seeing carcasses play?… either way you’re golden!”

Matt’s Review:

I must admit that I was initially a little bit shocked to see a packed house at 5:30pm on a Sunday evening behind the same Denny’s restaurant that I used to chain-smoke cigarettes and drink coffee in 15 years ago – back when I was just an awkward, acne-ridden, hormonally-challenged, moppy-haired, metalhead teenaged kid who pondered little about the future… other than trying to find someone over 21 who would be willing to buy my friends and I beer and (more) cigarettes before the weekend rolled around. Ah, the memories… it’s hard to believe that Carcass originally called it quits around that same time and – long after I lost the acne, the mop, and became a responsible adult (well, somewhat anyways) who still listens to a lot of metal – are just now getting back together for a full-fledged tour with 3/4 of the classic “Necroticism” thru “Heartwork” lineup intact.

We got there early enough to check out the opening bands Psycroptic, Samael, and Black Dahlia Murder – as well as a couple of other ’second stage’ acts in the other room of the venue not even worth mentioning, let alone writing a full sentence about. Although I never really got into Samael, they did sound solid overall. I was pretty blown away by the precisely virtuosic musicianship of both Psycroptic and Black Dahlia, although I could really do without both of their frontmen, which I will explain later…

For an increasingly jaded prick like myself, the anticipation to see a reunited Carcass was much stronger than I’ve felt for any other band in quite a while. Knowing the talent of all the musicians in the band, it was a given that I was going to see a group of finely-polished crafty veterans playing (at worst) respectable versions of their back catalog while I watched in comfortable content. Instead, I was enthusiastically blasted with an energy-filled non-stop onslaught from the first notes of the opening song “Inpropagation,” all the way up until the last notes of the closing epic masterpiece “Heartwork,” each and every song in between – such as Carnal Forge, Corporal Jigsore Quandery, This Mortal Coil, Embodiment, Incarnate Solvent Abuse, and Death Certificate, to name a few – flawlessly played with minimal stops in between. Frontman/bassist Jeff Walker’s voice has not lost an ounce of it’s punch and intensity after all these years. His humorously witty banter during the rare breaks was also a very refreshing change of pace from the meat-headed and cartoonishly predictable “I wanna see some action in that fuckin’ pit” yelping from the B.D.M. and Psycroptic frontmen before, during, and after every single friggin’ song. Fill-in drummer Daniel Erlandsson (Arch Enemy) proved to be more than capable of handling the job and is definitely one of the more solid metal drummers in the business, by far. The real treat for me though – being a guitar player and all – was seeing the flawless guitar virtuoso duo of Bill Steer (who was apparently sicker than a dog that night) and Michael Amott (who is apparently a redhead these days) in the flesh. Symposium of sickness and blood-red hair aside, it was truly an honor to be in their presence and be reminded of why I got a boner the first time I heard “Heartwork” as a teenager (I did say that I was hormonally-challenged, didn’t I?).

All in all, I couldn’t have possibly asked for anything better that night, except for maybe punching ‘that guy’ 10 feet behind us who kept insisting that every album besides “Reek Of Putrefaction” ’sucks balls.’ Ah well, I guess it could have been worse – Crowbar or Mortiis could’ve been the opening acts!

Matt’s Rating:

King says: “Vegans playing metal? What’s next, an evil clown singing about torturing little girls? B-B-Brilliant!”

Mark’s Review:

I couldn’t believe the amount of total and utter douchebags that are attracted to Meshuggah! I figured that the crowd on a Sunday night would be filled with prog-metal nerds discussing time signatures, diminished-note arrangements and internet message boards. Instead, the House of Blues was packed with young ass-clowns sucking down beers and pushing to get into a pit that was non-existent (how can you mosh to something in 7/9???). Also… when did girls get into prog-metal??? Did I miss this memo? And I’m not talking about your typical plus-sized she-man with black leggings and an Andromeda t-shirt… I’m talking about regular, hot girls that look like they just got off of work at Hollister. Where were these chicks in 1994 when I was pinned between two sweaty, fat guys in jean jackets headbanging their hair in my face during Corrosion of Conformity? Well, I guess Obama promised change, and here it is. It’s obviously a different time now than it was 15 years ago, which is about the last time Cynic toured the US.

Cynic took the stage after young, tech-metallers The Faceless got things underway. The swell of anticipation covered the crowd as the droning tones and meditative notes of Nunc Fluens began to amplify. By the time Sean Reinhert pounded out the opening fills in A Space for This, you could tell that Cynic was not fucking around, they were making up for lost time. Paul Masvidal and Co. blasted their way through a setlist that perfectly blending songs from 1993’s debut Focus, and 2008’s masterpiece Traced in Air. His vocoder-vocals and headstock-less guitar were dead-on, and he wasted no time with stage banter, letting a pre-recorded “transcendental Yogi” do most of the guiding. Their sound was loud, controlled and confident, and they benefited from by far the best house mix of the night. Highlights were definitely Uroboric Forms and Veil of Maya, which exploded from the monitors and showed off Reinhert’s unbelievable chops. I’ve been listening to Traced in Air pretty much non-stop since it came out, so ending the night with Integral Birth was amazing. Unfortunately, Cynic left the stage to the taunts of the previously-mentioned douchebags, who were happy their “gay” set had come to a close. I mean, sure, Masvidal is a little effeminate, but c’mon, would you yell that at Halford??

I was there to see Cynic because, for me, they were the main course. But I like Meshuggah, and figured it would be like eating a ridiculous dessert after a steak dinner… unnecessary but very enjoyable. I loved obZen and listen to Nothing and Chaosphere pretty often, so I really was anxious to see how they would perform these impossible songs live. Opening with Pravus, Meshuggah quickly took control over the crowd, but there was something missing… VOLUME! Meshuggah does not use cabinets, they pipe everything through the monitors in order to obtain an ultra-clean sound. This is great, but coupled with the tuning on their baritone guitars, led to volume levels that were so low, I could hardly hear anything. Once they began Bleed, I think the sound guys pumped things up a bit, but the fact that I was having conversations with out yelling, was a problem. Now, I was downstairs at the House of Blues, and Justin said the sound was much better upstairs, but it was still a letdown. You see, I think Meshuggah’s power is the fact that their rapidly changing rhythms and swirling riffs seem to engulf you and become this evolving storm that traps the listener. When I listen to an album, there’s so much chaos you lose track of what is up and what is down, all while Jens Kidman is screaming at you. Without the volume to fully crush the audience, I felt a lot of that effect was lost.

Mark’s Rating:

King says: “That guy from Cynic uses a vocoder?? Hmmm, I guess that’s ok…”

Justin’s Review:

Here’s the thing… with the exception of the sound there, the House of Blues fucking sucks. For a venue that is held in such high regard by the general public, H.O.B. is a shitty place to try and see a metal show. Especially one that’s sold out. The layout there is terrible, and unless you feel like being crammed into the main floor or manage to be in the front row of any other section of the venue, you’re shit-outta-luck.

It’s a rare thing to walk into a venue 15 minutes before the show even starts and have absolutely no place to move or see. Such was the case this evening. As Mark already made clear, Meshuggah seems to have some sort of magical allure that brings nü-metallers out of hibernation, ready to get their drink and mosh on. I simply don’t get it. Is it because their guitars go to 8? Is it the token bald singer?? What the fuck??? I haven’t seen that many stereotypical dipshit metalheads in one place since the last time I saw Slayer. The d-bags were out in full effect, and that certainly didn’t help my attitude or my sight-lines.

The Faceless opened the evening with an impressive array of instrumental finger-banging. Considering half these dudes were probably pooping their diapers when …And Justice for All came out, they certainly know their phrygian scales and shit like that. They lost a little muster once their singer came out, and overall, the hyper-tech-death shtick wore thin after the first 15 minutes, but overall not bad.

By the time Cynic were about to take the stage, the crowd was really starting to get out of control. I swear, you’d think we were at a Justin Timberlake concert surrounded by 14-year-old girls or something, because everyone seemed to want to push their way onto the main floor (it just so happened that we were standing in the middle of the entrance to said floor, so that didn’t help). Apparently, Paul Masvidal & Co. really ARE a prog-snob’s wet dream. In fact, by the time we made it to the upstairs balcony, I think I caught a glimpse of Mark with his hand down his pants. Of course, he might’ve just been adjusting himself, because Cynic put on a boner-inducing show. Rather than reiterate Mark’s synopsis, let me just sum it up by saying, if you have the chance to see these guys live… do so. Cynic rival Neurosis in terms of being both an extremely tight AND incredibly dynamic live band. Drummer Sean Reinhert in particular was a real treat to watch (or in my case… listen to. I’d like to point out that, even though we made it upstairs, we still couldn’t see shit. The only thing we had a better view of was one of the various tv monitors H.O.B. utilizes to run a multi-camera feed of the show).

After the unusually long changeover, Meshuggah hit the stage, tuned down and ready to destroy. Unfortunately for them, the only eardrums bursting this evening were from people getting punched in the head down below. As Mark points out, Meshuggah were left sounding a little flat… especially when compared to Cynic. That being said, there were still plenty of things to enjoy:

• Watching them pull off Bleed live… very impressive.
• Meshuggah has perfected what I deem the “full-body-bang”… sort of like head-banging, but with your waist rather than your neck (I attribute this to very very heavy guitars).
• Meshuggah’s lighting guy. This dude knows his shit. In fact, i wouldn’t be surprised if they had the lighting cues triggered from Tomas Haake’s kick pedal.
• The homage to Tool’s set design. No matter what you think of Tool’s music, it’s difficult to deny how awesome their visual aesthetic is. Meshuggah agrees.
• My cohorts in the balcony attempting to head-bang in time with New Millennium Cyanide Christ. Hilarious and disturbing… sort of like watching Elaine dance.
• Straws Pulled at Random… that song fucking RULES.

Despite an evening worth of solid sets, I’m still going to think twice before venturing out to H.O.B. any time soon (damn you Opeth & Enslaved). I spent $100+ dollars for (2) tickets, parking and (2) drinks… all to basically watch the show on tv all night. Add this to the fact that they don’t allow cameras, and charge $5 for coat check (per coat). LAME.

Justin’s Rating:

King says: “Progressive Metal… good, Corporate Venue… bad!”