When last we left our “hero,” he
was bound to the giant novelty typewriter of Skull Fest which was
heading into its third day. Who will swoop in to save the day?
Continue on for the exciting
conclusion of my Skull Fest adventures.
. . .
Night Three: Spirit
I ended up skipping the afternoon
matinee at Babyland knowing full well that I would need my wits about
me for the evening show at Spirit. Killer Of Sheep was on the bill
so that meant the possibility of lugging drums was in my future.
Staying home for a while was probably
a good idea. As the exhaustion settles in, it starts to open the
door for the depression to creep in and if that had happened I wouldn't have left the
house until Monday morning for day job. I'm guessing that was part
of the funk that led to me leaving after De Rodillas the night
before.
Apparently, my body was in need of
nutrients after two days so I hit Onion Maiden for takeout and
devoured an inadvisable amount of food after a morning of musical
palette cleansing. The new Oh Sees and Sleater-Kinney records added
to the Bowie At The Beeb box
set made for a much needed respite from the screamy-shoutiness of
Skull Fest.
The Bowie BBC
sessions are a lifesaver. I'm not trying to make the case that David
Bowie was the lynchpin of the universe or anything but have you read
the news since his passing?
My
self-care routine continued for another three hours because my copy
of Avengers: Endgame
showed up in the mail so I was able to nerd out before show time. After three viewings, that dopey comic book movie still knows how to
make a grown man cry. As much as I should have used that three hours
to write and edit photos, my brain needed the downtime and
distraction to recharge.
After
finishing off a pot of coffee, I was off to 51st
St. to see what the night had in store. And boy, was there a lot
ahead for me.
I was able to
bypass the security check since I was “with the band.” I felt
gross playing that card but at least it got me out of having my nuts
grabbed in an unfriendly manner.
Greg The Drummer's
kit was already set up when I got there so all there was for me to do
was sit around and wait for the first band to go on. Unfortunately
for me, Greg's kit was being used by all six bands that were playing
which meant I'd have to be there all night so as to not leave Greg in
the lurch on load out. And it did make sense to use his kit since he
playing in two of the six bands anyway.
The Detainees were
up first and were definitely worth checking out. They've got a much
looser, less aggressive way about them and were a great change of
pace from the crustiness of the other bands.
Killer Of Sheep
played second and quickly reminded me why I dig that band so much. It had been way too long since I had seen them and I had been
jonesing since May when they opened for Eyehategod.
I got what I hope
is enough pictures and went to my post on the side of the stage. The
kick drum started to walk away on Greg during the songs and he had to
keep moving it back in place between each one. That is one of the
things that bothers most but there isn't much that can be done
outside of using a long ratchet strap wrapped around the kick and the
throne.
I had had enough
of it so I knelt down in front of the kick drum to hold it in place. This way it would free up Ollie, the singer, to go off and be Ollie
without having to put his foot in front of it and not be able to
move. Luckily, someone “borrowed” a cement block from the gas
station next door so I no longer had to serve as a human paperweight.
After Killer Of
Sheep, it was revealed to me that I had a Caustic Christ sized hole
in my heart that I didn't know needed filling. The last time I saw
Caustic Christ play was at the Oakland Beehive when they opened for
D.R.I. which had to have been around 2000 or so. That was also the
night that I met Kurt Brecht and talked to him about writing for a
while at the merch table.
My Caustic Christ
records were always in my listening rotation but I didn't realize it
until they crashed into “Mirror Punching” while I was standing
stage right that, yes, in fact, they really were that good. And my
epiphany lasted all of five songs because that's when the power went
out.
My first thought
was, “Oh, shit. I kicked the plug out of the wall” because I was
standing next to an outlet. This lack of electricity had to somehow
be my fault even though I was standing still.
Sadly, it was
nothing as simple as plugging something back in. There was a fast
moving storm that moved through Lawrenceville and took the roof off
of a building. The debris from the building took out a transformer
and power to most of the neighborhood along with it.
The second half of
the Caustic Christ set was scrapped and the organizers went into
damage control in an effort to get the show back on its legs. While
I was sitting around to see how things would play out, it dawned on
me that I had a camera so off I went to Peter Parker the shit out of
the storm damage. This also gave me a chance to get some distance from
the venue. Since there was no A/C, it got really hot really fast so
almost everyone was hanging around outside trying to entertain
themselves.
I picked the right
direction to start walking because it wasn't long before I saw the
flashing lights and kept walking toward them. The storm had removed
a the roof from a building on 48th St. and not so gently
put it down on the sidewalk on the other side of Butler St. The
streets were cordoned off so cars and pedestrians had to detour down
the narrow side streets.
By the time I had
gotten back to the club, a few camping generators had shown up and
extension cords were being run back and forth.
It took a bit of
creativity but Sheer Terror was able to play with only the vocals
running through the PA which was hooked up to one generator and the
amps were plugged into another.
Due to the delay,
the remaining bands had to play abbreviated sets because there was
also a curfew on the show even though it was 18 and over. Set lists
went out the window and the three remaining bands were calling
audibles to get their time in.
There was finally
a stroke of good luck when the power came back on during Drop Dead's
set. Which was a good thing just to get some air flowing around the
club. There was so much humidity in the room that it looked like
someone had just mopped the floor.
Poison Idea
finished out the night and I was glad that I got to see them since
this is supposedly going to be their last tour. As soon as they walked
off stage, Greg and I ran onto the stage packed up his drums and
headed for the exit.
. . .
Interlude:
Here's
a brief history lesson for the unfamiliar that may get lost in the
weeds. This is all coming from memory so there might accuracy
issues.
At one
time Aus-Rotten members included Dave Trenga (vocals), Corey Lyons
(bass), Eric Good (guitar) and Matt Garabedian (drums). The band
split into two with Dave and Matt forming Behind Enemy Lines and Eric
and Corey going off to start Caustic Christ.
This
means that all four members of Aus-Rotten were playing Skull Fest at
some point over the course of the weekend.
. . .
Night
Four: Cattivo
As much
as I wanted to hit the afternoon matinee to see Loose Nukes, I had to
pass in order to run errands and get things ready for the coming
week. Hydration and nutrients were once again in high demand. A mountain
of sauteed cauliflower covered with General Tso's sauce and kale was
on the menu for dinner.
I
almost didn't make it out of the house. By 6:30, my body was
starting to rebel against the abuse I had been putting it through and
wanted to get reacquainted with my couch. I figured it was one last
show so out the door I went. If I'd had enough, I could always head
home.
This
final night of Skull Fest was also the thirtieth anniversary
celebration for the label Profane Existence. Not only have they been
releasing punk and metal records for the past thirty years, they are
also the perpetrators behind the recent Aus-Rotten reissues that
sound amazing.
After
the first two bands, the depression had come bursting through the
door like a pre-racist tirade Kramer. The person carrying on at the
top of their lungs about the cocaine bender they had been on all
weekend did not help my mood either. I put the camera away and was
about to bail but I forced myself to hang around for Behind Enemy
Lines. It was time to end my streak of not seeing them play over all
these years.
Behind
Enemy Lines is easily in the top ten bands that Pittsburgh has ever
produced. Lyrically and sonically on point all of the time. Caustic
Christ guitar player Bill Chamberlain, who was also in Behind Enemy
Lines at one time, sat in for a few songs to end the set.
Members
of Behind Enemy Lines left the stage, except for Dave and Matt. Corey and Eric walked onto the stage with their instruments.
From my
perch behind the stage right speaker stack, I was about to witness
Aus-Rotten playing live for the first time in I don't know how many
years. Suddenly, the exhaustion and depression fell away and were
replaced with giddy anticipation.
Over
the twenty some years that I have been going to shows, I had been in
rooms in which the crowd had completely lost their collective shit. Or at least I thought I had until Aus-Rotten slammed into
“Xenophobia.” The term “ape-shit” would not adequately
describe the energy of the crowd.
Then
they went into “Fuck Nazi Sympathy” and I thought the club was
about to become a hole in the ground. I had to put the camera away
and help hold the speaker stack that was almost knocked over from the
amount of movement in the crowd.
Aus-Rotten
only played two songs but they provided the much needed release of
energy that I think most people in the room have been feeling for the
past few years. There were people leaving the pit in tears when the band was done.
I have
listened to those two songs so many times over the years that they
have seeped into my DNA but I had chills and was in a daze for few
minutes after all was said and done because I had never seen seen
them with my own eyes before. I don't know what the legacy of
Aus-Rotten is or what other people think of their records but that
band carries a lot of weight with me.
I
staggered back to the car and made my way home even though there was
still one band left to play. The hour was getting late and the alarm
was set to go off sooner than later. When I did get home I still had
the shakes from Aus-Rotten and only managed an hour of sleep before I
had to head into day job.
Having
to spend eight hours surrounded by the stupidity of corporate
Amerikkka after seeing Aus-Rotten was damn near impossible. It was a
feat of strength every time someone opened their stupid face in my
general direction not to yell, “FUCK YOU!!! I saw Aus-Rotten play
two songs last night so FUCK YOU!!!” Those people would never
understand because it didn't involve their fantasy league or
“reality” television shows.
. . .
The
organizers and volunteers of Skull Fest are owed a large debt for
putting the fest together. It is a massive logistical undertaking
and that's before things outside of their control start going wrong.
From dealing with skittish club management/security to having trained
medical volunteers with NARCAN at each show. Since I normally stay
home when it comes to these things it was amazing to see the amount
of work everyone was putting in to pull it all off and rolling with
the unexpected when they had to.
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