My clarity concerning this event is going to be tested and my metal mantel tried because on this particular occasion I had imbibed one too many intoxicants before entering the pungent smell that was to eventually overcome The Whisky. On this appropriately cold night Satan's henchmen and masters of all that is nasally intolerable-Watain were here to flog Hollywood into merciless submission.
First up to Baptize those among the unbeknownst in the incensed sangria of local L.A. black metal was Luna Occulta. Reminding me of BEHEXEN conducting a black mass with early GORGOROTH this rampaging cavalcade of distortion merchants battered through a glorious ode to all things ancient, deviant and perpetually macabre. A rip roaring assault upon the senseless. I was not familiar with RITUAL COMBAT'S heaving, artillery like war hymns. I did witness them opening for DARKENED NOCTURN SLAUGHTERCULT many moon's prior but memory fails me. The band is led by the lunatic fringe of Psycko (ex NOKTURNE) a grimly ravenous miscreant whom I will always support. Definitely a force of nature, just shy of requiring a stationary chain to contain his salacious wrath.
BLACK ANVIL must be given reptilian kudos because for a three piece ' and ' a former hardcore band to boot they commandeer an unrighteous racket paying as equal homage to CELTIC FROST as to Autopsy. Very doom laden indeed and spiced up like a cadaver about to be salted and consumed by evidence erasers. Eliciting an uproarious mix of debates on the Internet because of their recent conversion to the dark, errrr.....shall I say black side of metal. But all skepticism aside they compose a stark miasma of contrasts guaranteed to get craniums a' banging. Following BLACK ANVIL were the grand curators in the museum of Frost worship-GOATWHORE. Like the former they uphold tradition willingly, pushing boundaries no further than the mid 80's yet curtailing what could be deemed stagnant with superior musicianship and the advantages of technology.
Heralding the imminent arrival of lascivious spirits- E (Front man of WATAIN) conducted a necromantic rite to thus induce negative energy into the arena. And I must confess that from the fishy odor emanating from the woman's lavatory (or a decomposing body hidden in the walls, take your pick), the putridly toxic meshing of decade old unwashed stage outfits, cauldrons of fermenting pigs blood and the incense enhanced fog drifting from WATAIN'S communion were enough to knock the wind from all unworthy of Satan's invisible presence. Performing a plethora of funerary dirges from "Sworn To The Dark", "Casus Luciferi" and an assorted abundance from "Lawless Darkness" the glorifiers of Luciferian decadence enthralled their gathered acolytes, providing not only audial eargasms but a visual stimulus the bland confines of the whisky has seldom ( if ever ) witnessed. Pyromaniacs must have been in thralls of ecstasy during “Total Funeral" when the trinity forks spat seemingly endless jettisons of flames towards the ceiling, threatening to encroach on the safety of the amassed hordes. But I suppose that the promoters forsake human wellbeing for promises of profit and considering the show was sold out they bade the devil well his dealings. “Legions of the Black Light" was a defining highlight as the first two rows of craniums were spastic in virtual cohesion, giving praise the unruly and animalistic way-by thrashing their great, unwashed manes in unison to the beat with reckless abandon.
When it was concluded all filed out very unmilitary like into the night with visions of a cursed eternity just beckoning at the back of their thoughts.