Totally high on High on Fire. All photos by Kimberly Chun.
"Purple is the color of sexual frustration," quips one English SXSW conventioneer to two ladies asking about their wardrobe choice in the elevator. Not so over at Stubb's and Vice's metal showcase yesterday, March 13. I missed Napalm Death, damn it all, but made it to see High on Fire totally kick arse! Lordy, who knew Matt Pike and company had it in 'em? All assembled would have to confess: they totally blew away metal-punk grandpappies Motorhead. (OK, I only stayed for a portion of Motorhead's set but chances looked slim that they were going to kick up more dust.)
"This song goes out to all my friends who came here from Oakland!" Pike exclaimed before launching into a brute, pummeling rendition of "Speedwolf." Holy mother of fuck...
You can't envy Lemmy and his weathered road warriors, following that. But you can admire the devil horns getting thrown up front.
Then it was over to Ms Bea's to catch Brooklyn booking dynamo's shows - I got there too early to see the East Bay's Gowns, but saw a bit of Ponytail. Plenty of gusto there - though the atonal vocals are an acquired taste, me thinks.
Down the street, off an alley was a raucous, drumset-raising set by Israel's Monotonix was coming to a close. Crust punks, longhair anarchos came together with dogs rambling underfoot.
When Dinosaurs Rule were ripping it up with umpteen members onstage and dueling dual vocalists. Too bad the officials appeared to be tagging the organizers when I was leaving. Rats.
Down the hill and across the tracks at the Scoot Inn, the "How's Your Booze" party with Heavenly States had wrapped - the unofficial parties there had wound down apparently - though I stepped into a Carson Daly (?!) fete at a place called the Compound where Amoeba-approved country outfits were performing in what looked like a rusticated out roadhouse-barn. Scoot Inn, though, looked like they had an ace array of Load artists performing Saturday in a "Blowcase" - so watch out.
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