MIDNIGHT MALICE CD RELEASE SHOW
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MIDNIGHT MALICE CD RELEASE SHOW with MOKOMOKAI and THE HORNED
Show review author: the Augurian Photography: the Augurian, Published: Apri 8, 2014 Click here for the link to the interview between members of Mokomokai and Robert G. |
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MIDNIGHT MALICE
CALEB BEAL - lead guitar/lead vocals CHRIS NASCIMBEN - lead guitar GLENN FIVE - bass/backup vocals HUNTER RAYMOND - the drums Label: Independent midnightmalice.bandcamp.com/ www.facebook.com/midnightmalice MOKOMOKAI
JOHN ELLIS - Guitar, Vocals JEREMY PASTIC - Bass J.P. CONTOIS - Drums Label: Independent www.facebook.com/Mokomokai mokomokai.bandcamp.com/ THE HORNED
SEAN BILLINGS - Lead Vocals/Guitar JACOB MARACLE - Bass STEVE WORTON - Drums, Backing Vocals Label: Independent www.facebook.com/TheHorned thehorned.bandcamp.com/ |
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THE SPRING COTILLION OF TARTARUS: Thawing ice, the arrival of the winged creatures and the emergence of the sun god from behind slate grey skies may be symbolic of the changing season, but a Midnight Malice party on an April evening should also be included as an official rite of transition to all things vernal. Summoned from our caves and tree dwellings by the combined alchemy of Rose and Blurton, we trudged in winter pelts to the twisted and snarling henge known as the Bovine, swiftly populating the cavern and its neighboring land mass as the terrified condolitti scurried for cover. And yes, there is much credence to the story that Cronos Lant once, inadvertently,sent his slab of Amato pizza (eye of newt and feta combo) into a backflip while entering the club one night and, subsequently, cursing the inverted heavens,..but that is all part of the rich history and phantomic aura of the Bovine.
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Tonight, a new story in its ledger: The unveiling of the long awaited Malice silver coin, carefully paraded in by their entourage and placed upon a guarded and humble altar, establishing a collective tension that resonated around
the room. And as the clock struck 10, the invited clan of The Horned scaled the stage and ignited the room with a wall of sublime fuzz and Kilmeister-esque raspology, proceeding to baptize the crowd with a bushel load of solid
numbers worthy of their two pronged cognomen. And indeed, this was excellent preparation for what was to be.
Scattered among the hordes and emerging symbiotically, the power-trio phenomena known as Mokomakai took to the raised level like knives to a roast. And if, perchance, you have been in deep hibernation, you would be
wise to take note that Mokomakai are the keepers of the anthemic and highly addictive 'Poison Whiptail' song which, single-handedly, seems to be re-establishing the Northern tundra as the new reckoning ground of metal. Fresh from an East coast tour, with a waft of Screech and codfish trailing them, tonight marked their triumphant return to the hog-land.
Audiences have been left in awe with the incredible crystal-breaking voice of lead guitarist John Ellis, that has rendered sound systems defeated and demoralized. Combine that with a rhythm section powerful enough to stir Mothra and Godzilla into battle and yet handle every intricacy with perfect jazz-like reservation, and it's readily understandable why the industry
is watching these strato-locals closely as potential breakout artists. Tonight, and as reliably as ever, they elevated the bar to precarious heights and left the volk gasping for breath. Normally, that would be enough to deflate the spirit of any mortal headlining band,...and yet,..enter Midnight Malice.
Always formidable, always energized, Priestian and pitch perfect. Here they were once again, but this time with a noted artillery change which only served to re-establish their rabid fan base. That assistance arrived in the form
of mercenary bassist and ANVIL alumni, Glenn Five, one of the most respected instrumentalists in the genre. Instantly, the dynamic presence of Caleb Beal and Chris Nascimben responded to the turbonic blast initiated by Glenn and
drummer Hunter Raymond with equal intensity, ultimately lifting their new material into a professionalism and energy beyond what was expected, and the good vibe stoked the crowd into a frenzied mirth. Covering the trove of new
material from their Proving Grounds CD, Midnight Malice were in full control and enjoying every wild minute.
Bodies began to pinball and nods of agreement circulated the room, and at it's peak intensity and in the waning minutes of the set, an inverted tangle of moshing legs and black boots managed to reach up into the ceiling of Yuletide decor and proceed to dismantle the web of colored lights, dimming the room ceremoniously. Cheers and laughter, and the vernal rite was firmly complete.
Despite the labyrinthine confines and restricted sonic levels of the Bovine, it was a memorable night indeed, and one for the ledgers. The triple bill is always a precarious balance, but tonight the recipe worked perfectly with all bands contributing and making it more than what anyone payed for. For that, all were grateful.
Returning to the evening air, the customary wind chill had seemingly dispersed. There was a mildness and warmth we could barely remember, and indeed the vultures circled above once again. All was good.
the room. And as the clock struck 10, the invited clan of The Horned scaled the stage and ignited the room with a wall of sublime fuzz and Kilmeister-esque raspology, proceeding to baptize the crowd with a bushel load of solid
numbers worthy of their two pronged cognomen. And indeed, this was excellent preparation for what was to be.
Scattered among the hordes and emerging symbiotically, the power-trio phenomena known as Mokomakai took to the raised level like knives to a roast. And if, perchance, you have been in deep hibernation, you would be
wise to take note that Mokomakai are the keepers of the anthemic and highly addictive 'Poison Whiptail' song which, single-handedly, seems to be re-establishing the Northern tundra as the new reckoning ground of metal. Fresh from an East coast tour, with a waft of Screech and codfish trailing them, tonight marked their triumphant return to the hog-land.
Audiences have been left in awe with the incredible crystal-breaking voice of lead guitarist John Ellis, that has rendered sound systems defeated and demoralized. Combine that with a rhythm section powerful enough to stir Mothra and Godzilla into battle and yet handle every intricacy with perfect jazz-like reservation, and it's readily understandable why the industry
is watching these strato-locals closely as potential breakout artists. Tonight, and as reliably as ever, they elevated the bar to precarious heights and left the volk gasping for breath. Normally, that would be enough to deflate the spirit of any mortal headlining band,...and yet,..enter Midnight Malice.
Always formidable, always energized, Priestian and pitch perfect. Here they were once again, but this time with a noted artillery change which only served to re-establish their rabid fan base. That assistance arrived in the form
of mercenary bassist and ANVIL alumni, Glenn Five, one of the most respected instrumentalists in the genre. Instantly, the dynamic presence of Caleb Beal and Chris Nascimben responded to the turbonic blast initiated by Glenn and
drummer Hunter Raymond with equal intensity, ultimately lifting their new material into a professionalism and energy beyond what was expected, and the good vibe stoked the crowd into a frenzied mirth. Covering the trove of new
material from their Proving Grounds CD, Midnight Malice were in full control and enjoying every wild minute.
Bodies began to pinball and nods of agreement circulated the room, and at it's peak intensity and in the waning minutes of the set, an inverted tangle of moshing legs and black boots managed to reach up into the ceiling of Yuletide decor and proceed to dismantle the web of colored lights, dimming the room ceremoniously. Cheers and laughter, and the vernal rite was firmly complete.
Despite the labyrinthine confines and restricted sonic levels of the Bovine, it was a memorable night indeed, and one for the ledgers. The triple bill is always a precarious balance, but tonight the recipe worked perfectly with all bands contributing and making it more than what anyone payed for. For that, all were grateful.
Returning to the evening air, the customary wind chill had seemingly dispersed. There was a mildness and warmth we could barely remember, and indeed the vultures circled above once again. All was good.
