“I hope you’re doing well,” sneered Eyehategod vocalist Mike Williams, his voice foaming with contempt.
For over 30 years the New Orleans sludge metal pioneers have caused chaos with their nihilism and fetid riffs. After making their Australian debut in 2012, chaos has consistently ruined plans for subsequent returns Down Under.
Finally making good on their promises, fans braved the unbearable climate to witness the legends in the flesh.
Local openers The Black Swamp crowded the stage as they played their party-starting sludge riffs. As the guitarists took up the stage, singer Luke Hosking hung back next to their amps, rocking to their grooves. Finally, he pushed his way to the front and roared, “I am the mountain,” the crowd raising their glasses to the explosion.
Laughter filled Crowbar as a recorder tunelessly played Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Go On’, but the laughs turned to full-throttle fury when Sydney trio Black Rheno emerged.
Mariano Palomares’ guitar howled with each discordant note, and drummer Doug Martin’s sprinted on his kick pedal, his blast beats making skulls rattle. Vocalist Ryan Miller gave an animated performance, skulking and thrashing across the stage. As he screamed, his bald head became a maze of popping veins leading to his scowl.
Feedback moaned as Eyehategod guitarist Jimmy Bowers plugged in. He faced his amp, letting the noise grow as he took a long swig of his drink. Once satisfied, Jimmy, bassist Gary Mader, and drummer Aaron Hill lurch into a slow groove, each low-tuned note felt in fans’ throats.
The trio were in complete sync with each other, switching from one crushing groove to the next without missing a cue, putting as much force into their music as moshing fans put into shoving each other.
Mike Williams’ voice curdled in his throat; every rasp accompanied by thick flecks of spit. As the crowd raged, Mike appeared to battle himself. His hands strangled the mic in its stand, which he shook with violent force. Closing his fist, he punched himself in the head, followed by firmly grabbing his skull and thrashing his body.
His self-masochism wound up fans who followed suit and unleashed upon themselves.
A final flurry of speeding hardcore sent Mike into meltdown. After picking up his mic stand and dragging its base across the ceiling, he hid behind Jimmy’s amp and thrashed.
As the final shriek of feedback disintegrated, Mike emerged and smiled at the crowd. “We really appreciate you being here,” he said, sounding genuinely sincere.
It’s a stark contrast to the misanthropy of their set, but just like chaos, Eyehategod is unpredictable and the smiles of sweating fans showed the chaos was worthwhile.
